CHAPTER 3. TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES
I heard the doorbell ring, and then a couple of minutes later Sam called to me, "Aly, could you come out here?"
I walked out to the living room. Mr. Russell and Mr. Marshall stood there with Sam. They all looked at me.
"Alyson, do you know anything about who's been stealing from the Gas-n-Sip?" Sam asked me.
I looked up at him, and then at the others. I could feel my face get hot and knew I was blushing.
"Aly," Sam said in a serious voice, and his face had that same look as when he'd scolded me about the library fines. I didn't want to get into any more trouble, and I didn't want Sam to be disappointed again, and I didn't want them to say that they couldn't trust me again. It was time to come clean about all this.
"I, uh, I- it wasn't me, honest!" I exclaimed.
"We know that, hon," Mr. Marshall said, "We just want to know if you knew who it was."
"Uh—how-how do you know?" I asked suspiciously. I looked at the men and Sam, who were all watching me.
Mr. Marshall showed me a black and white photo of the inside of the Gas-n-Sip, of a girl putting something inside her jacket. It looked like Shelly but her head was partly turned away. "There's finally photo evidence, but we're not 100 percent positive who this is."
"Well, uh, it was, uh..." I looked down at my feet, "It was, uh, Shelly, and, uh, Will." I said. I glanced up, "Shelly would try to get everyone else to take stuff but mostly kids told her no."
"Which kids were stealing?" Mr. Russell asked.
"I only saw Shelly and Will, she tried to get Joey and Patty and me to, but we all said no."
Mr. Marshall nodded. "Good."
I looked up at Sam, who was still watching me, but I couldn't tell what his expression was. "You-you believe me?" I asked.
"Yes," Mr. Russell nodded too, "My kids said the same thing."
I exhaled. "Oh," I said quietly.
"Well, thank you, Alyson," Mr. Marshall put the photo back into his jacket pocket. "You helped us out here."
"What- what's going to happen?" I asked, "To—to Shelly? And Will?" Shelly had mentioned something recently about overhearing her parents talking about buying a paddle.
Mr. Marshall and Mr. Russell glanced at each other. "That's for...their parents and Mr. Randall to decide," Mr. Russell said.
"Thank you, Sam," Mr. Marshall held out his hand, and Sam shook it. Sam let them out, and then closed the door hard and turned the deadbolt.
I turned to walk back to my room, feeling relieved that the truth was finally out. I didn't have to hide any of that any more.
"And where do you think you're going?" Sam said, and his voice was hard.
I stopped and turned to look at him. I'd never heard him use that voice before. "What- what's wrong, Sammy?" I asked.
"What's wrong? What's wrong? What's wrong is that you've been lying this whole time, young lady."
I cringed when he called me young lady, and my stomach twisted, because Sam only ever called me that when he was angry with me. And boy did he look angry now.
"I- I didn't lie-"
He sighed angrily and rolled his eyes. "Yes you have, Aly, a lie of omission, remember? Where you know something is wrong and you don't say anything about it? This has been going on for weeks, Alyson, almost a month, and Mr. Randall has been at his wit's end trying to figure things out! And all this time you knew, and you could have said something, and you chose not to!"
He walked over to the couch. "Come here, Alyson," he said in a low voice.
"Wh-why?" I was suddenly suspicious.
"Because you deserve a spanking for this, and I'm going to spank you, and because I told you to! Now get over here!" He pointed next to him, like Daddy did with me, like Dean did with me.
His hazel eyes were dark and his jaw twitched.
"But Saaaam-" I whined.
"Aly, now," he said, and the hard voice was back.
Tears filled my eyes. "Please, Sam-"
"Do I need to start counting?" His voice was loud. He had never counted before, that was a Daddy thing, a Dean thing!
"No, you don't have to count!" I said tearfully, and I hurried over to him.
He sat down on the edge of the sofa and then he was pulling me over his tall knees. My feet dangled in the air and I grabbed on to his calf for balance. I was already crying, I hated when Sam spanked me- and I knew I'd upset him and disappointed him, again.
He put his hand on my back, holding me down, and then his huge paw smacked my bottom for the first time.
"Please Sam I'm sorry!" I wailed, crying harder as he spanked me a couple more times.
I was expecting it to be over, that was how Sam spanked me, a few quick swats and he'd let me up. This time, though, he didn't. His humongous hand kept falling, and because it covered most of my rear end, my whole butt was stinging in no time at all.
"You do not lie to me, to any of us," Sam said sternly, "I'm very disappointed in you, Aly, that you've lied about the library books, you've lied about your chores, you've lied about the kids you were hanging out with, and now this! You've been lying about this for weeks! You should be ashamed of yourself!"
I wailed again, wordlessly. I was ashamed. I felt horrible and guilty because Sam was so upset with me. So much for telling the truth.
"When Dad gets back you're going to tell him about this," Sam said decisively. He stopped spanking me.
"Noooo!" I whimpered.
"Yes," he said in that hard voice, "He's going to find out anyway, but you're going to tell him that you knew, and we'll see what he has to say about it."
"Please, Sam, no, can't we just-"
"Are you suggesting that we keep this from him? Really, Alyson? Really?" he sounded angry again, and he tilted me further forward on his lap and then his hand descended even harder, and I howled as he peppered my bottom with more sharp spanks.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorrrryyyy!" I howled.
"I thought we were done with this, Alyson," he said, holding me over his lap, "I thought that with Dad deciding on your punishment with the hairbrush, that that would be enough to get you to stop lying. But I guess not."
"I—I didn't-" my chest hitched, "I wasn't—trying-to lie," I said miserably, "N-no-one was saying any—anything. E-everyone j-just kinda a-agreed to not s-say any—th-thing."
"I'm guessing that all the kids in the neighborhood are in trouble tonight," Sam said, "When Dad and Dean get back you're going to come clean, and tell Dad everything. Is that clear?" he asked sternly.
I sobbed aloud, knowing how angry Daddy was going to be with me. "Y-yes, Sam."
He pulled me up to sit on his lap finally, and I threw my arms around him and cried, feeling relief and guilt flood me. I was relieved to not have to keep holding in the secret about the kids stealing, but I felt awful that I had lied for so long, and that my brother was now upset with me again.
"You're still grounded too," Sam told me, "Straight home from school and in the house all evening. No playing with any of the neighborhood kids."
"Yes, S-sam," I agreed.
"I don't trust any of them and I think they're a bad influence. Maybe if you're not around them, you'll stop lying."
"Okay," I sniffled. I'd agree to anything if it meant that my brothers and father would start trusting me again and wouldn't be angry with me any more.
~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~
I sat on the sofa, Daddy and Dean and Sam all standing in front of me. Daddy and Dean were both frowning, identical expressions of anger on their faces. Sam had just told them about the Gas-n-Sip and the neighbors coming to talk to us.
Daddy put his hands on his hips. "So you were lying this whole time."
I chewed on my lip, feeling myself blush. "It—it wasn't a lie, technically-" I said weakly.
"For crap's sake, Aly, how many times to we have to go through this!" Dean burst out.
Daddy held his hand up. "Dean, stand down, I'm handling this."
"Well, Dad, you're not the only one who's been dealing with her and this—this bullshit! This has been going on for weeks, while you weren't here!" Dean turned to Dad, holding his hand out.
"And you punished her when you caught her in a lie, and now I'm dealing with it." Daddy said reasonably, "And it will be dealt with very shortly," he said sternly, giving me a glare. "Young lady, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I—I'm sorry!" I burst out, not knowing what else to say.
"Sorry for lying, or sorry you got caught?" Dean growled.
I stood up suddenly, feeling angry. "How come you guys can lie and I can't!" I shouted, clenching my fists, "If I get spanked, then you—you all should get spanked too!"
"We already explained the difference to you, about the lying that I do on a case, and about white lies. You shouldn't be lying, because you are a little girl, and I need to be able to trust what you say, and if you lie to me, then I can't. You shouldn't be lying, because I've told you not to. I'm not sure why you're being so stubborn about this, so I'm telling you flat out: No. More. Lying. At. All. Is that clear?" Daddy looked at me sternly.
"Yes," I said sulkily, even though I still didn't quite understand it.
He raised his eyebrows at my tone of voice. "All right, young lady, enough," he pointed to the hallway that led to the bedrooms. "Let's go."
I stood up and walked to my room, Daddy following me.
He stood in the middle of the bedroom, looking around. "Where is the hairbrush?" he asked tersely.
"Uh-" I had hidden it, because I didn't like looking at it.
He walked over to me and stood there looking down at me.
"Alyson Elisabeth Winchester," his voice was quiet and hard, "Look at me. Where. Is. The hairbrush."
I turned my face up to his and looked at his stern eyes for a moment, "I—uh-I don't know," I said, glancing down, "I guess it's lost."
He sighed. "Alyson. You are not a good liar. You have never been a good liar."
"I'm not lying!" I risked a glance at him, and he raised his eyebrows at me.
"Oh, so now you're denying that you're lying to me? The hole you're digging for yourself just gets deeper and deeper, young lady," he crossed his arms, "You have to the count of 10 to "find" the hairbrush. And if you don't, then I guess I'll have to take my belt off, and use that instead."
I gulped.
"One..." he said slowly, "Two...three...four..."
I walked over to the dresser, my face flaming with embarrassemnt. I bent down and opened the bottom drawer, dug around amidst the clothing, and then pulled out the hairbrush. I closed the drawer and then brought it over to him.
He took it from me. "I see," he said. He took my shoulder and turned me towards the bed, then walked us over. He sat down, set the brush beside him, and then pulled me over next to his right thigh. He unsnapped and unzipped my jeans, and then pulled them and my underwear down to my knees.
I knew then that this was going to be bad, starting on the bare.
"Daddyyyy," I whined.
"I've already said what needs to be said," he said simply, and tipped me forward over his knees, and the spanking began. I burst into tears as his hand began to fall. Dad's hard hand spanking your bare butt was just about the worst thing ever.
Then Daddy began to lecture me as he spanked. "I make the rules to keep you safe," he said, "And I expect you to follow those rules. I need to be able to trust that you're going to obey me, and do the right thing. And most importantly, family needs to be able to trust each other. With all the lying you've been doing, I feel like I can't trust you. Things are going to be different now and I'm going to be a lot more strict with you."
"Dad-dyyy," I whined again, my chest hitching.
"You brought this on yourself, young lady. This is it, no more lying and misbehavior. You need to learn to stop and think before you lie, think about how much trouble you're going to be in when you get caught—because I will find out, young lady—and figure out if it's worth it to your rear end."
And then he started to spank me again, turning the glow on my butt into what felt like an inferno. I pleaded and wailed and apologized and kicked my feet, but none of it helped. It felt like I was there over his lap for hours.
He put his hand on my lower back for a moment. My chest was heaving with sobs at this point and I had my arm wrapped around his calf.
"You're getting 9 for lying," he told me, "Plus three extra- for hiding the brush, and then lying about it, and then denying that you lied."
"Daddy I'm sorryyy!" I wailed.
"I thought about doubling it, but I think that would be too much. However, if you continue to lie, Alyson, that is an option that may need to happen."
"Nooo pleeease!"
He leaned over and picked up the brush. The first swat landed on my already tender bottom, and I howled. Did I say that Dad's hand on your bare butt was the worst thing ever? No, the worst thing ever was Dad swatting your already spanked butt with a hard wood brush.
I didn't count- I couldn't keep track of the swats- but all of a sudden, I felt like I just couldn't deal with any more. I twisted, and I jerked my body, and then I had slid off of his lap and was standing there staring at him. He hadn't been expecting that I would move like that, I think, and he hadn't been holding me that tightly.
He stared at me, as if he couldn't believe my audaciousness.
"Get back over here," he growled, and he reached out and yanked me forward. I landed back over his knees with a yelp, and then, instead of the slow, methodical swats he had been giving me, the brush cracked down hard, suddenly and quickly, three times on the lowest part of each cheek. And I shrieked and burst into tears again, kicking my feet.
I felt him move as he set the brush back on the bed.
"The hair brush stays on your dresser, young lady," he said sternly, "If it gets moved again, you will get double. Is that clear?"
"Y-yes s-sir," I sobbed.
"You will not lie to me, Alyson. You will stop lying, period. I don't care how many times we have to do this."
"M' sorry, Daddy," my chest heaved as I spoke.
He lifted me up, and set me on his thigh. When I winced, because of my sore butt touching his leg, he lifted me in his arms and held me like I was a baby, with one arm around my back and the other under my knees. He cradled me against his chest and I sobbed, clutching his flannel. He held me, stroking my hair with one hand, and murmuring every so often that it was okay now and that he knew I could be a good girl, until I had calmed down.
I vowed to myself to do what he said, to stop and think about what I was going to say, to consider if it would be worth it to lie. I wanted my family to trust me and I didn't want them to be disappointed in me any more. I told myself that I was going to stop lying.
~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn~ ~
It was a week after the big reveal about the Gas-n-Sip and the stealing, and Daddy had come down hard on me. I was grounded to the house, I had an early bedtime, I had daily chores. My books had been taken away and I wasn't allowed to watch t.v. I had to be respectful at all times, and of course, no lying.
Then there had been the added humiliation of them going through my room and all my stuff. The missing library book had been found and I'd gotten a spanking for that. I'd had to explain that the new book I had was from my teacher- I had won it when we played a game of "Spelling Jeopardy" in class, and Daddy had checked with her about it- and also had to explain that the flower-shaped eraser in my pencil bag was a gift from one of my classmates. I'd gotten spanked a couple of other times but the hairbrush had stayed on the dresser and not been used. I was beginning to think I could actually change and stop lying.
Dean and I came into the house, and I dropped my backpack on the floor.
There was a stack of mail strewn across the coffee table, and on the top was an envelope that had been ripped open and an unfolded official looking document.
Dean picked it up and looked at it, and said, "Oh, shit, Sammy," under his breath.
In the next moment we both heard it, the slight metallic jingle and then the unmistakeable sound of a loud WHAP! and an indrawn breath. It came from the direction of the kitchen, and before I knew it I was running there.
I felt Dean's hand on my shoulder just as I reached the kitchen door, and my eyes took in the scene- Sam was leaning over the kitchen table, gripping the far edge with white knuckles. His pants and underpants bunched around his ankles, somehow making his long legs looks shorter. I caught a glimpse of his reddened butt, before Daddy turned to us and stepped in front of Sam, partly blocking him from our view. Daddy was holding his belt in his hands, folded in half.
"Sammy!" I cried out, and he turned his head from where it had been buried in his arms. Our eyes met, and I could see tear tracks on his cheeks. Then he shook his head slightly, and re-buried his head in his arms.
"Did you know about it?" Daddy demanded, taking a step towards Dean.
"Uh- uh-" Dean stuttered.
"It was during that hunt in Iowa last month, when I was gone for almost two weeks, and I never got a phone call letting me know that one of my sons had had a run in WITH THE POLICE!" Daddy bellowed the last part. I shrank back against Dean.
"Uh, no, sir, I didn't. I- I would have told you, you know-"
"You sure about that?" he asked, looking closely at Dean. "Do you need a turn here after I'm done with Sam?"
"No, sir, I didn't know, God's honest," Dean said.
Daddy huffed. "If I find out that you're covering for your brother, you're going to get it, and then he'll get it again as well, so you think about that."
"Yes sir. I mean, no, I'm not covering, I swear," Dean amended quickly.
"You're dismissed, I need to finish dealing with this," Daddy said, turning back to the table and Sam.
Dean gripped my shoulder and pulled me back, and into the living room again. "C'mon," he said, and took my wrist.
As Dean fumbled with the doorknob, I heard the little jingle of Daddy's belt buckle and then the loud, flat WHAP! again, followed by a small strangled groan.
Dean shook his head, pulling the door open, and we hurried outside, and got into the car. Dean sat for a long moment, and then started the car, sighing and shaking his head.
"What happened?" I asked, "Why was Sammy in trouble?" I asked.
"He got a speeding ticket, and didn't tell Dad. Or me. He didn't pay it, he hid it, and something came in the mail about it today."
Dean drove to the Gas-n-Sip up the road and we went in and he bought me a chocolate bar and a granola bar for Sam.
When we got back into the car he turned to look at me. "See, Aly," he said, "This should be another lesson to you about why you shouldn't lie. Sam doesn't tell lies about anything, but he knew that the ticket was gonna get his butt roasted, so he hid it, which is lying. I don't know if Dad would have belted him if he'd come clean from the start or not, but you can bet that Sammy made it ten times worse on himself by not telling Dad when it happened. And now Sam's probably going to be restricted from hunting for a while too."
When Sam or Dean messed up on a hunt or didn't follow orders, Daddy would do things like ground them from hunting. They'd have to do chores like clean the weapons over and over and make lots and lots of salt rounds, and they'd get stuck at home with me, which I didn't mind. Sam was usually okay with that but Dean would start to get antsy because he enjoyed going on hunts. Dean rarely messed up any more and he never lied to Daddy about anything.
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I stood on Patty's front porch awkwardly. She stared down at the ground.
"Well, I gotta go. I mean, we're leaving," I told her.
She looked up at me. "Leaving? Like for good?"
"Yeah," I said.
"How come?" she leaned back against the railing and grimaced.
"For my dad's job, he, uh, moves around a lot," I blushed, because I was lying, but then it was about what Daddy did, and I was supposed to lie about it.
"Oh. Well, see ya."
"Um, not really," I said, and we both laughed. I handed her a plastic bag full of my school textbooks. "Can you take these in to school for me?"
She took the bag from me. "Sure."
I looked at her face, suddenly curious. "Hey, did you get- uh, did your parents, uh, talk to you about the Gas-n-Sip an' the... stealing and all?"
She made a face and then blushed. "Yeah...an' I've been grounded and- stuff ever since 'cause I lied, and then I got in trouble about school too..." she looked up at me, "I can't lie about nothin', my mom always finds out. And boy, when she does-" she stopped and shook her head.
"Yeah, my Dad is the same way," I agreed.
The door opened and her Mom leaned out. "It's time for dinner, young lady," she said.
"Yes ma'am," Patty said, turning to go inside, "See ya, Aly," she said over her shoulder.
I walked off of her porch and down the sidewalk.
As I walked back to the house, I saw Joey dragging a large plastic trash can to the curb in front of his house.
"Bye," I called to him, and he waved.
He walked back to the side door and I noticed his mother standing there with a wooden spoon. "This is the last time you lie about chores," she said to him, and swatted his butt with the spoon as he walked into the house.
I heard him say, "Aww Mom!" and then she called, "Find a corner and plant your nose in it!"
So it wasn't just me who lied about stuff, chores and homework. I walked up the steps of our house and went inside.
"Did you say your good-byes?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," I told him.
"All right, get changed into your pajamas. We're going to be driving through the night," Daddy told me.
"Yes, Daddy," I said, trying to sound agreeable. I changed into my pajamas, checked the little bedroom that I had occupied one last time, and then followed my brothers out to the car.
I climbed into the back seat next to Sam and he handed me a pillow and blanket.
"I'm not tired yet," I said.
"You will be later," he smiled at me.
"We ready to go?" Daddy glanced back at us in the rear- view mirror.
"Yes sir," Sam replied, and I chimed in, "Yes, Daddy."
I looked out the window at the houses as we drove through the neighborhood. I hoped that where ever we ended up next, there were nice kids. I didn't want to end up getting into the kind of trouble I had gotten in this time around.
I looked over at Sam and leaned my head on his shoulder. He was two weeks into his month-long restriction from hunting, and I was enjoying having time with just him and me.
I knew that with this move I had a new chance to behave, a new chance to do the right thing, a new chance to always be honest. And I was going to try my hardest to turn over a new leaf and not lie any more. I had realized that adults could lie, and sometimes they had to lie for jobs and stuff, but when you're a kid it's just not worth it.
I was silently glad that I hadn't gotten into any trouble recently, because being in the Impala for hours on a sore butt was no picnic. I curled up on the seat and pulled the blanket over me, and Sam put his arm around me.