Red walked over to Casey and Michael Kelso. He stuck his hand out for Casey to shake.
"Thanks for bringing these dumbasses home, Casey."
"You're welcome, Mr. Forman."
"Your father phoned us, of course. He said for you to drop off the foreign kid, since he didn't call their house, and then bring Michael straight home."
"Ok. Will do."
Red turned and stared at Michael for a moment. "Your father is not happy. I have a feeling that you, Eric, and Steven are going to be feeling about the same tomorrow."
"Yes, sir," replied Michael quietly.
"Well, thanks again," Red said as he turned and walked toward the garage.
Casey took the keys from his pocket and rattled them.
"Time to go," he called out in a sing-song voice. "Fez, we're dropping you off. Come on."
Fez nodded and climbed in the back of the van, while Michael got in the passenger's seat.
"Will your host parents be upset, Fez?" Casey asked.
"No, I don't think so," the boy responded. "I told them that I didn't know when we would get back from Chicago."
"They knew you were going and they were cool with it?" Michael asked, sounding jealous.
Fez nodded again.
"Man, I wish I was foreign," whined Michael.
Casey chuckled, glancing at his brother.
At Fez's house, they watched the boy knock on the door and waited until he was ushered inside.
"Well," said Casey, smiling ominously as he restarted the van. "There's no place like home. There's no place like home."
"Man, why are you enjoying this so much, Casey?" Michael snapped.
"It's not that I am enjoying it, little bro. It's just I think this is a new level of trouble for you. Like remember when I tried to enlist in the army to go to Vietnam when I was 15? Or when Tommy accidentally set that back field on fire with those illegal fireworks?"
Michael blanched, "Dad went crazy. Tommy claims his left buttock has never been the same since. ...I hope Dad's not that mad at me. It was kind of my life goal to never get in that much trouble."
"I don't think that you'll be in nearly that much trouble. After all, Tommy and Sully have always set new standards for chaos. I mean, your trip was a serious misjudgment...but...no one nearly lost their houses because of it."
Michael laughed quietly. "So you think I'll get a hiding?"
"No doubt," Casey replied instantly. "You made Mom worry, and Dad worried even more than Mom. You're definitely getting a whipping."
Michael sighed and stared out the window. The sun was coming up and the town was still quiet. They passed the brick library and the shops on Main Street. Nothing was open, except for the diner and the bakery. The trees were just starting to change color in the August weather. At least the gang had had one last big adventure before school started. Michael nearly groaned when he realized that they would probably all be grounded until school started again.
The van slowed and turned into the Kelsos' driveway. The house was large with a wide front porch. From the cab of the van, the boys could see their father reading the morning paper in one of the front porch rocking chairs.
"We better go over and speak to him," said Casey, sounding resolute.
After a moment, he added, "Listen, man, if there is anything that I have learned over the years, it's that you shouldn't try to argue your way out of trouble. That'll get you nowhere. He's got his mind set on punishing you. Just apologize and say you deserve it. That's the only hope you have of him maybe going easy on you."
Michael nodded. "Ok, I will."
The boys walked up the front porch and greeted their father.
"Hi, Dad. Got the kids home safely."
"Hey, Dad," Michael said quietly. "Sorry you were worried. I knew you would be upset with me when you saw I snuck out, but I was hoping that you wouldn't notice until I got back." Michael paused and looked at his father, who sat quietly watching his boys.
When his dad said nothing, the teenager continued, "I know I deserve a whipping. Do you want me to go get your belt?"
His father set the newspaper aside and ran his hand across his tired eyes. "No need to do that, Michael. I'm still wearing one I can use." With that, the man stood and began unbuckling his belt.
"Thank you, Casey, for helping bring Michael home safely. You can go on to bed, if you like."
"Ok, Dad." Before he left the porch, Casey added, "Hey, Dad, …don't kill him, okay?"
"I'm not making any promises," his father said darkly.
Casey grimaced and shrugged as he made eye contact with Michael. Sorry, man, he seemed to say as he headed in the house.
Michael looked at his father, who held his belt in his hand. The boy walked to the porch rail, unbuckled his pants and let them fall to his ankles. As he started to bend forward, he heard his father gruffly say, "Boxers too."
The teenager felt his face get hot as he pulled his boxers down also. The morning breeze felt cool on his naked skin. Thankfully trees and plenty of land surrounded the property, so there were no nosy neighbors around to see his punishment. However, Michael's siblings would be up soon and he hoped they wouldn't peek through the windows to watch.
"Son," his father began his lecture. He always explained why the boy was about to be punished. Usually, it was obvious to Michael and he just wished his father would just get on with it. So the teenager rested his head on his right arm and listened.
"You're getting this spanking because you ignored the fact that you were grounded, snuck out, and went to Chicago. Your mother and I were worried sick. You are grounded until Labor Day. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir, I understand. Sorry, Dad."
Finally, the belt whistled through the air and smacked Michael's upper thighs. He felt the sear of leather wrap around the side of his leg. That lick would leave a mark. His father stepped back to adjust his aim. Thwack! Pain across both cheeks. Again the belt landed in nearly the same spot. When the leather whacked the same spot again, Michael whimpered and shuffled his feet.
"Stay still," his father commanded, swinging the belt down so it hit slightly higher on his son's bottom.
Michael was shocked at how painful the belt was as it smacked his behind over and over again. He felt its sting especially across his upper thighs and lower bottom. He would have a hard time sitting after this punishment.
Although he tried not to cry out or beg, finally Michael could not take the pain. "Please..." was all he said. After three more lashes, his father finally stopped. He could hear the man breathing hard as he rethreaded the belt through his pant loops.
"Pull up your pants, son," his father said.
Michael bent over and pulled his pants and boxers up at once. He yanked each into place and nearly cursed as his heavy jeans scraped the tender skin.
"Do you understand why you were punished, Michael?"
"Yes, sir, I do," the boy said quietly. He wanted to sneak away to his room to cry in shame and pain.
His father pulled him into a hug and then tousled his hair. "Alright, then. Go apologize to your mother and then go to bed. This afternoon you, Tommy, and Sully have some yard work to do."
"Are they in trouble too?"
"Yes, Tommy and Sully got arrested last night because they were drag racing. I swear those boys will be the death of me."
Michael nodded grimly and walked inside. His face burned when he realized that all of his siblings and mother were in the dining room having breakfast and had heard everything.
His mother walked over and he buried his face in her shoulder.
"Sorry, mama," he whispered.
"All is forgiven, my dear. Come eat breakfast and then go rest."
The boy saw Tommy pat a cushion on the chair where he usually sat. His older brother, he noticed, was also sitting on a cushion.
"Hey, at least you weren't around for the fireworks last night," Tommy whispered when Michael sat down. "It was the worst whuppin' I ever got. Sully, too, and that's saying something!"
"Well, that one was pretty bad. I wanna stay on Dad's good side for…as long as I can."
"Yeah, maybe until next month," Tommy chuckled.
"Or maybe next week," Michael smiled.
"Listen, dummies," Casey said, leaning across the table. "Try not to do anything too stupid before tomorrow."
Everyone at the table laughed.