Day of Reckoning

Thursday morning, Joe left for school a few minutes early. He wanted the time to make an appointment with Miss Jones. He also wore his long-tailed shirt, his thickest long johns, and his heaviest denim pants, just in case. After talking to Pastor Fletcher the prior afternoon, he'd decided to come clean about his submitting all those reports and essays he'd recycled from Adam's work years before. He still felt a bit ashamed of himself, but his embarrassment was overshadowed by his sense of heroism at admitting his wrongdoing and daring the consequences. Somehow, his self image had transmuted from being a "craven heel" to something vastly more "noble".

Joseph arrived at the schoolyard, took off his saddle and bridle, putting them on the rack behind the schoolhouse where a small paddock let him release Cochise for the day. There was no reason for students' horses and ponies stand under tack for six unnecessary hours, rather than just relax with a halter on, with hay and water to enjoy. Finished, he knocked quietly on the classroom's back door, as he watched Miss Jones writing assignments and information on the blackboards, preparing for class.

She turned at his knock, smiled when she saw him, and said, "Yes, Joseph, what is it? Come in," as she turned back to putting up her notes.

"Miss Jones?" he began, walking towards her. "Are you available to speak with me after school today? I'd like to talk to you about something."

He could not see her smile as she finished posting her materials. "Yes, I'm free after school. I'll be glad to make an appointment with you. What do you want to talk about?"

"Um..." Joe hesitated, "just some school stuff, Miss. I'd rather wait until then to talk about it."

"All right, Joseph, that will be fine. Your father is out of town this week, isn't he? And your brother Adam as well?"

"Yes, Miss. Pa should be back Sunday night. Hoss is looking out for me til then."

"Well, that will be fine, Joe. We'll talk after school then," she said, turning to smile at him with a dismissive nod towards the front door so he could go play until she rang the bell to start class.

The school day passed for Joe with a very weird sense of time. Sometimes, Joe looked at the clock and it barely felt like time was moving at all. Then other moments, it felt like the day was racing to a close. He didn't know if he was waiting for a paddling or not, and the closer it came to three o'clock the more his seat and legs seemed to feel tingly or numb. He felt more and more fearful as the day progressed, until about 2:30 when he took a really deep breath and decided to just quit worrying about it. He'd pulled pranks and tricks before, and even gotten into fights, knowing ahead of time he'd get his britches tanned. This wasn't any worse than that, so he'd just hold his nerve and trust everything would work out all right.

Three o'clock finally came, Miss Jones dismissed the class and the children all left. He just sat quietly at his desk as Miss Jones had walked other students out the door. Calmly she came back, sat down behind her desk, folded her hands, looked at him with a calm friendly expression, and said, "There we go, Joseph. Now, what did you want to speak to me about?"

Joe realized his throat had never been so dry before, as he started to speak and could only muster a raspy croak. Clearly, he couldn't have this conversation sitting down, so he stood up and tried again. "Miss Jones?" he managed to say. "I need to talk to you because I've done something wrong. I didn't realize quite how wrong it was until the assignments we've been doing this week, but now that I know, I knew I needed to tell you. I didn't mean to be... I mean I didn't really think of it as cheating... but I've been turning in work that was actually my brother Adam's from years ago. I'm really sorry, Miss. I won't do it any more."

"Well first thing, Joseph, let me thank you. It takes real character to own up when you've done something wrong, and I appreciate your honesty very much," she smiled and nodded with her approval.

Joe felt very relieved to see her take his admission this way. He didn't feel near as embarrassed and ashamed as he did a minute ago.

"Now, Joe, what you did was very wrong. You know that, right?" she asked, gently.

"Yes'm," he nodded, looking at his toes.

"You've been doing this quite a while, yes?" she saw him nod. "How many of your reports or essays have been Adam's?" she asked.

"I don't know for sure. It's been quite a few, though," he answered, honestly.

"It's eleven, Joe. Eleven of your reports and essays were Adam's. As time has gone by, I've noticed how much more mature this writing is than your verbal answers or test responses. So last Friday I took these eleven papers over to Mrs. Wilson's house, Adam's former teacher, to ask if they looked familiar to her. She recognized them as his work, and that's why we've been studying dishonesty this week. I wondered if it would prompt you to speak with me."

"Oh," Joe said, a bit deflated.

"Don't get me wrong, Joe, I still give you full marks for your honor and honesty in admitting this to me, without my asking you about it. That goes VERY far with me. I'd sooner my students learn integrity and character than any rule of math or grammar. So, we'll just consider this as full credit for you, all right?"

Joe smiled as he nodded.

"But now, we need to figure out how to move forward from here. These are eleven separate assignments, Joe. Do you acknowledge, freely, that you have cheated on these assignments?"

"Yes'm," Joe nearly whispered.

"I didn't hear you. What was that?" she prompted.

"Yes, Miss," Joe said more clearly.

"So I have here eleven separate episodes of your cheating, is that right?" she said, as she stacked his separated assignments in front of them on her desk.

Joe gulped as he saw the implications here, but he was already committed. No point trying to back out now. "Yes, Miss."

"Have I been clear about cheating, and its consequences in this class?" she asked, her voice still gentle, but brooking no foolishness.

"Yes, Miss," Joe held his voice steady as he started doing the math in his head.

"Very well. THIS then," she placed one hand on the stack of Joe/Adam's work, "is now counted as a Zero in my grade book. That is going to drop your grades in five subjects to a high D or low C. That would not be a Report Card I know you want to take home." Miss Jones knew the Cartwrights well, and their viewpoint on both scholarship and school deportment. "Certainly not when grades that low are due to malfeasance. THEREFORE, I have written a paragraph on each of these works, asking a topic question and giving some direction on how to answer it. You are to take these home with you, and using the resources Adam originally used for these works, write YOUR OWN essay or report responding to what I've asked. Is that clear, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Yes, Miss," Joe answered, gratefully.

"You will be required to do twice the work it originally called for, that is 1000 word reports and essays, where the first time it was only 500. Also, they will all be marked down one full grade point. That is, if you earn an A on a paper, it will only be credited a B, and so forth. Don't even think about turning in a D level paper. It will just give you another F. Is THAT understood?"

"Yes'm," Joe answered, a bit discouraged.

"I am going to forego your sitting here in detention and writing lines. I consider your courage in admitting this on your own, and staying after school for this discussion, to be an adequate exercise in lieu of that punishment. All right?"

"Yes'm," Joe nodded, feeling a bit better.

"But now, to the crux of the matter... This is hard for me. You've earned a paddling, and a note home. Now, I know your pa's rule about getting punished in school. If I paddle you here, you're going to be hided when you get home, aren't you?"

"Yes'm, or at least I will be when Pa gets home and reads your note," Joe nodded a bit sadly, though resigned.

"I'm sure it's no surprise to you, Joe, that many of our students live with that same rule, as did I when I grew up, and I appreciate it, as does any teacher. Parents affirming and reinforcing a teacher maintaining discipline makes our classrooms and lives much safer and easier. At the same time, however, I give GREAT credit to your having owned up to this simply as a matter of conscience, not because you were caught. This is also complicated by the fact that it's not just a single episode of cheating, like copying off a neighbor's test paper. Plagiarism is a more subtle form of cheating than most, a lot easier to rationalize to yourself than copying or making cheat notes. Against that is the number of incidents. So it's hard for me to determine what's fair to you, as a paddling. What do you think about it? How many swats do you think you should receive, since it's your conscience that's hurting on this?"

Joe could hardly breathe. How could his teacher ask him, "how many swats?" He desperately wanted to say something like... "Two". But he shook his head at the thought. That would be silly. So he seriously tried to think the question through. He tried to think like his Pa, or like Pastor Fletcher. He figured, if he was taking a licking from either of them, he'd be looking at 10 to 20 licks for this. And he figured they'd be hitting him a lot harder than Miss Jones. She was just a "slip of a thing" as people say. Her paddle was pretty mean, and he'd heard it applied a time or two, but it didn't sound as bad as a belt whupping, and guys who got it didn't usually cry out or limp afterwards. Finally, he thought about how bad he was feeling to be a liar, or thief, or cheat. Putting that all together...

"Ten, Miss. I think I deserve about ten swats for this. Or maybe, eleven, if you want to do one for each assignment," he declared with a clear tone of voice.

Miss Jones looked at him with a bit of surprise. "Really, Joe? I was thinking more like five. Eleven swats with my paddle is enough to be memorable for quite a while. I've never given that many here before."

"I'll be more than happy if you don't, Miss. But you asked what I felt like I deserve, and that's my honest answer. Like you said, it wasn't just once. And it wasn't like I didn't hide it from the beginning, so Pastor Fletcher said that's one way to know something is wrong from the front. I'd take at least that from Pa, or even from Adam. Besides," Joe looked down with a bit of a smile, "maybe if I take a good waling from you with the paddle, my Pa might..." his voice trailed off.

"Go a bit lighter with his belt?" Miss Jones smiled as she completed his thought.

"Uh, huh," Joe nodded.

"I see. All right, I tell you what. I'm going to think about this a mite. I want you to do the same. You head on home for now, and take these with you. Get started on the make up work tonight. I'd like one of these... any one you choose... turned in tomorrow. After school tomorrow, I will paddle you and write the note for your Pa. It's a terrible punishment to have to wait for punishment, but you've earned it by repeating this fault for so many weeks. Come prepared to stay after school tomorrow, and ride your softest saddle unless you want to have Hoss drive you. Understood?"

"Yes, Miss," Joe nodded, with tremendously mixed feelings. It was a great relief to know he was not going to get paddled with that thing that hung on the wall behind her desk... at least not right this minute. But it was awful knowing that he'd be feeling it tomorrow, sure enough.

"All righty then, on your way!" she said, as she stood to start getting her things in order to head home and Joe headed for the back door to saddle Cochise. "And Joseph," she interrupted him on the way as he turned to her, "This was very well done, young man. I'm very proud of you. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Miss Jones. I'll be here," he sighed, and made his way out the door.

A/N: I enjoy the Bonanza universe, and hope you like some of these short sniglets that bounce past my mental movie screen from time to time. Please feel free to comment and/or review. Thanks for reading, hopefully enjoying! Grace to you, Gentle Reader! - Mort