Just Another School Part II by Just_Me

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SGT Gonzales and I started out of the room, and I stepped on a pile of hair, and my foot slipped out from under me. I went arse over tea kettle, and wound up on the floor. SGT Gonzales doubled over in laughter, and my hatred for him at least doubled in size.

Once he stopped laughing, he snarled, "Get your ass up, and let’s go." He led me into another room, and some of the weirdest clothes I’ve ever seen were laid out. It looked like they had taken all the clothes from the character Steve Urkel on "Family Matters".

Sgt. Gonzales said, "I think these will fit you. Try something on."

"I thought I’d be given a uniform."

He snarled, "You are not allowed to think, you are only allowed to do as you are told. In addition, you are not worthy of a uniform, cretin." He smirked. "In case you don’t know what a cretin is, it means, ‘a stupid person’ and your actions have proved how stupid you are. Now pick something, and get dressed."

He continued, "When you have proven to me that you are worthy of a uniform, I will issue you one. As of right now, these clothes are your only option, and you will not be allowed to go naked, as I understand you like to do. If I have to, I will Super Glue clothes onto your body. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sergeant."

I picked up a hot pink t-shirt that was at least four sizes too big, and then looked at the ugliest plaid shirt ever made by man. Each shirt was worse than the last. I held up a pair of pants. They were at least ten inches too short. A horrible green sweater looked like it had been used to feed the moths. I could smell the previous owner’s feet coming out of hideously ugly two-toned shoes. Rainbow suspenders were laying there, along with a pair of ridiculous glasses without lenses.

I just randomly picked things, and put them on.

I turned to SGT Gonzales. "OK, I’m dressed. Are you happy?"

"Not quite." He handed me the suspenders and glasses. "These are a part of your uniform. If you are seen without them, it will be five licks with a board, applied to your bare ass. Is this clear to you, cretin?"

"Quite clear, sergeant."

As we walked out, he handed me a hat that looked like it came from a Chinese farmer. "You will wear this intermittently while digging the ditch. We don’t want you to burn that precious fair skin on your rich little brat neck."

I plopped it on my head, and plodded out the door.

The comments I got in the hallway made my face turn bright red. I tried to act nonchalant, but the deep blush let everyone know that I was hearing them.

I spent the whole afternoon digging my hole, but it was a thing of beauty. Everything was as perfectly square as I could make it with just a shovel.

I also don’t think I’ve ever sworn as much as I did that afternoon. The damned chili bowl haircut was more trouble than my long hair had ever been. The longer part on the sides kept falling into my face, and there was nothing I could do about it. It wasn’t long enough for me to tuck behind my ears. Sweat soaked the hair, and made it even worse.

After finishing the hole, and it was deemed satisfactory by the colonel, I had to refill the hole. Once the colonel released me, I ran to the mess hall. I have never been as hungry as I was that night. I don’t think I even tasted anything. I just gobbled up everything on my plate.

After dinner, I spent half of the night learning the basics of drill: how to march, what to do (and not do) while standing in formation, attention, at ease, left face, right face and bunch of other stupid crap.

SGT Gonzales kept his word. Right before lights out, he came to my room with a laptop. My picture was plastered all over the school website.

I seethed most of the night, trying to think of a way to pay him back.

The next morning I tried to do something with my hair, even though I had nothing but my fingers to comb my hair with. I thought, "I wish I had some styling gel to keep this mess out of my way. I could maybe slick it back and make it look less horrible. " I smirked. "Nothing you could do would make it look less horrible, but the gel might make it more functional."

I did the best I could, and walked out of my room, and straight into COL Sparks. He bellowed, "Cadet Dumbo, this is a military installation, and the bed heads look is not military."

"Sir, no shi…crap. I have no comb, but I’ll be happy to stay hidden until my hair looks presentable. Maybe I could start some dreads."

"Not in my world will there ever be a cadet with dreads, and what do you mean when you say you have no comb?"

"I wasn’t issued one. What am I supposed to do with my hair without a comb?"

"You mean Sergeant Gonzales didn’t give you a comb?"

"Sir, yes sir."

"I’ll have his ass on a plate for my breakfast. Return to your room. There will be a comb there shortly."

I snuck to Col Spark’s office, and listened to the ass-chewing he delivered. "I don’t want your excuses. I realize a comb is not issued to every cadet, but you were the one who gave Dumbo his haircut. You should have realized he couldn’t maintain military standards without a comb. Listen carefully, we pay you to give our cadets what they need, and it’s your job to make sure everything they need is delivered to them. I would advise you to think, and make sure you don’t forget anything else. Is that understood?" His last comment was, "I want that comb in Dumbo’s room within a minute. Dismissed."

Hearing SGT Gonzales getting dressed down made me feel good. I thought, "Take that, you sorry bastard. It’s not full payback, but it’s a down payment. Watch out, the rest will come to you. I will get you, you sorry bastard."

I ran back to my room, and barely got there ahead of the sergeant.

He handed me a cheap, flimsy comb. I sneered at it. "I hope you have a good supply of these. As you know, my hair is thick, and I’ll probably break a dozen of these a week trying to get them through my hair. I guess I’ll have to let COL Sparks know every time I need a new one."

He shuddered. "Please don’t. I will go buy you a very good comb tonight, and bring it to you tomorrow. Just try to make due with this until then."

I chuckled, and thought, "I’ve got this bastard where I need him now. I know what his weak spot is. He’s afraid of COL Sparks."

I had to admit to myself that I was a little afraid of him too.

I got to put all of that drill instruction I had received the night before to use during first formation.

COL Sparks started the formation with, "ATTEN-HUT!"

"Cadet Greene, Brent R., front and center."

I thought I executed the moves perfectly, but evidently, he didn’t think so.

"Cadets, let me introduce to you the newest, sloppiest member of the Corp. He is only to be referred to as ‘Dumbo’. Is that clear? Not Cadet Dumbo, not Plebe Dumbo. Just Dumbo."

The platoon roared, "SIr, yes sir."

"Please welcome him appropriately."

He flicked my ear so hard that I turned red.

The catcalls started, and seemed to go on forever. Some of the better ones were, "Where’s your feather, Dumbo?"

"Dumbo, do you need your mommy?"

"He belongs in the circus, but not in the main tent. With those ears, he belongs in the freak show."

"It looks like he has a mushroom instead of a head on his neck."

I stood there fuming, thinking, "I’ll get the bastard if it’s the last thing I do."

After letting the crowd shame me for a while, he finally stopped them.

"Dumbo, you may return to the ranks."

For the first time, I wished I had a uniform. I stood out like a sore thumb in my Steve Urkel outfit.

COL Sparks kept baiting me. "How many of you were foolish enough to fall for my nice guy routine the first day?"

Cries of "Boo! Boo!’ filled the quad.

He pointed at me. "Not a one of you fell for it, but that clown did. Give him a round of applause for being the stupidest jackass on the planet."

I had to stand there while they applauded, thinking, "Well, I guess I know what it feels like to be humiliated now."

You would think I would learn, but evidently I’m incapable. I went to class after formation, opened my big mouth and popped off in class. Someone whispered a snide remark to me during the lecture, and I may have rather loudly said, "You can suck my extra long dick."

LT Simpson bellowed, "Dumbo, report to the front of the class."

I sauntered up, confident that my quick wit would get the best of this asshole teacher.

"Remove your clothes, Dumbo."

"Like hell I will."

"You so badly want us to believe you have a large penis that you had to brag about it in front of the whole class. If, in fact, your member is as big as you claim, you should want to show it off."

He turned to the class. "Listen up. Dumbo here has a history of flaunting his nudity, like he used to flaunt his hair. Wouldn’t you like to see if his penis has shrunk as much as his hair did?"

My first thought was, "Damn! Did they tell every teacher my entire history?" Then I let his comment about my hair piss me off. The round of applause the class started giving made me even angrier. A few guys even gave wolf whistles..

I shrugged. "Gladly. I hate these nerdy clothes anyway." I looked at the class. "I hope there’s no virgins in here. What they’re about to see might shock them."

I casually removed my Steve Urkel clothes, gave what I thought was a sexy pose, and turned around to the class. "Have any of you ever seen anything like this?"

"Students, please do not respond." He pointed at me. "I will not tolerate this lack of respect. You have been taught to assume the position of attention when speaking with an officer. If you do not immediately do that, you will get your first bald spot."

I assumed the position, and Colonel Rizzo shifted his focus away from me. "Class, you might find this instructive, so pay attention while I show you something."

He typed a few seconds, and then projected what was on the computer onto a wall. It was a picture of a fully engorge horse penis. Then a bull, followed by an elephant. "Now class, do you think the lowly specimen of humanity you see in front of you compares to this?"

Charles yelled, "Cadet Dumbo has a teeny wienie! I’ll be willing to bet he wishes it was as big as his ears!"

I started to run out of the class. "Do not break rank, Cadet Dumbo."

I kept walking.

"If you take one more step, I will have the sergeant at arms hold you over the desk, while I deliver twenty resounding licks to your bare ass."

I leered at him, and then took one more step. "What are you going to do now? I took one more step." Then I snarled. "If you touch me, I’ll sue you and this school."

"I think you won’t do that, and I will show you why." He reached into his desk, and pulled out a piece of paper. "Each of your teachers has a copy of this. Please come read it to the class."

He handed me the paper, and at first it didn’t make sense to me. The reality hit me, and I snarled, "That son of a bitch! I’ll get him for this, if it’s the last thing I do."

"We’re waiting, Cadet Dumbo." Then he stared at me.

Somehow I found the courage to read it.

"From the desk of Charles R. Greene IV

To whom it may concern:

I hereby give Mt. Pisgah Military Academy (hereafter referred to as "the academy) the right to discipline my son, Brent Robert Greene, in whatever fashion the academy deems necessary to break his will, and make him see the consequences of his actions. This includes corporal punishment, shame, mental manipulation, manual labor or deprivation. The academy is authorized to conduct its business in whatever form it deems necessary, without threat of legal action on my part.

I reserve the right to pursue legal action only in the event that there is injury sufficient to require hospitalization, cause blood loss, broken bones, internal injury or death. As long as these boundaries are not exceeded I authorize the use of any punishment the cadre deems necessary."

Signed, Charles R. Greene IV

"As you willingly admitted, you disobeyed a direct order from an officer who has rank on you. Are you going to take your punishment like a man, or do I have to get someone to hold you down?"

I bent over the desk, and immediately experienced the worst physical pain I have ever felt, as time after time his wooden board slammed into my bare ass.

I couldn’t stop the tears, but I didn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of hearing me scream. I do have to admit he forced some grunts out of me.

After he hung up the board, he called out, "Cadet Dumbo! Attention!"

I immediately sprang to the position of attention. However, I could feel the object in question shrinking. It was almost as if it wanted to hide in shame. I also felt like I was shrinking.

"Now class, let us continue with our discussion." He called on the person I hated most in the class. I had already learned her nose was so far up the cadre’s ass that her nose almost came out of their mouths. "Cadet Johnson, what are your thoughts about Dumbo’s obsession with the size of his endowment?"

"Sir, it has been my impression that men who obsess over their endowment are missing something else in their life, either physically or mentally. I’m wondering what Cadet Dumbo is missing that makes him willing to act in such an inappropriate manner?"

"That’s an excellent observation. Dumbo, would you care to offer any insight into her observation."

I issued a terse, "No, sir." My thought was, "That bitch has it coming to her, and I hope I’m the one who gets to deliver it."

He continued, "Cadet Black, what are your thoughts?"

"I’ve heard that gay men often overcompensate because they fear their lack of masculinity."

The bell rang just then, and I was saved from further humiliation.

I don’t know how COL Sparks knew about it, but he was waiting for me in the hall. "Did you enjoy your introduction to our way of breaking your will?"

"As a matter of fact, SIR, I did not, sir."

"You will like it even less after you receive your other punishment."

"SIR, that bastard just tried to kill me. I think that’s punishment enough."

"Disrespecting an officer just increased your punishment. Follow me."

I was led to the site of my original haircut, and SGT Gonzales was waiting for me.

"Sergeant, this half-wit just referred to an officer with a pejorative, and disrupted his class with an unseemly outburst. Those are each punishable offences. I told him his first offense would be a two-inch bald spot on his crown, and each additional offence would increase that by one inch. Shave a three-inch circle."

I tried to pass if off, and act tough. "You’re not going to change me. You might as well just go ahead and shave my head. I ain’t gonna conform to your stupid rules."

"You have not earned the right to be treated like a real man. Real men take responsibility for their actions, and accept what life deals them, just like I did. I accepted the fact that life dealt me a bald card, and I acted responsibly. When, and only when, you chose to do the same, you will have the option to shave your head. Until you behave appropriately, you will deal with a monk’s haircut. Do you understand me?"

"Whatever…" I quickly added, "Sir."

I thought about fighting them, but didn’t. I knew my hair was so messed up I was going to have to cut it all off at some point, and then grow it back.

COL Sparks handed me the can of shaving cream, and looked at his watch. "It is now 1054 hours. At 1254 hours, you will be standing at the position of attention in front of the mirror in the latrine, with shaving cream already applied to your bald spot. Every two hours after that, you will be standing in the latrine. Someone will be there to bring you a razor and watch you, to make sure you do things properly."

He grinned at me. "From now on, you will be referred to as ‘Friar Dumbo’. Do not answer to any other names. Did I make myself clear?"

"Sir, yes sir."

To say that shaving my head every two hours was a pain in the ass would be a massive understatement. However, once I saw they were serious about it, I tried to keep my mouth under control. I really didn’t want a full MPB to go with my bowl cut.

I didn’t manage to keep my mouth shut though. Within two weeks, the top of my head was completely shaven, and the fringe around the side was getting smaller and smaller. I truly looked like a friar, since they kept the semblance of a bowl cut throughout the whole time.

I made it through two months, and then one day, I thought, "I can’t do this any more. I’ve got to get kicked out of this school. What can I do?"

I was sitting in science class, and got bored. I politely raised my hand, and LT Andrews said, "Yes, Friar Dumbo?"

"Could you talk about something interesting? I’m about to die of boredom."

I could see he got mad, and he muttered, "Piss off, Dumbo."

Well, that made me mad. I walked to his desk, and pissed on his book.

I spent the next several hours digging another 3X3X3 hole. Just as I was finishing up, I saw a snake in the grass, and an idea hit me. "The bastard used what I told him during our first conversation against me, and now I’m going to use what he told me against him." I chuckled. "This just might be what gets me kicked out."

I caught the snake, and walked into Col Spark’s office, with his secretary following behind me saying, "You can’t go in there!"

I threw the snake on the colonel, and laughed when he shrieked in terror. "Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it." I paused a second, and then ended with, "Sir."

To his credit, he didn’t say anything. He just grabbed me by the collar, dragged me to a closet, and locked me in. I was fine with that. I was tired from digging the ditch, and took a nap.

I woke up when COL Sparks opened the door. "Follow me."

He stopped in front of my room. "You’re probably going to think what I’m about to say is pure BS, but I mean it when I say I really regret having to do this. In fact, the idea of what I’m about to do makes me sick, and this will probably haunt me for the rest of my life, just like it’s going to haunt you."

"Friar Dumbo, get ready to face your fears. You are in solitary for the next twenty-four hours." He opened the door.

I looked in my room and saw what seemed like hundreds of spiders. They were everywhere, in cages, and crawling around on my bed, desk and floor. I screamed, " I can’t, COL Sparks. I just can’t! Please don’t make me do this!" I fell to my knees, and sobbed, while crying hysterically.

He pulled me to my feet, and hugged me tight. "You’re right. You can’t face this, but we can. Together, you and I are going to face our greatest fears."

He stepped back. "Look at me. Once you face your fears, you won’t need to hide behind this destructive facade. Your natural confidence will come to the top, and you’ll be able to deal with the world like the kind, compassionate winner I know you are at the core of yourself. Please help me find that person, and break the chains that are binding him."

I tried to look in the room, but the tears blinded me. "You’ll go with me?"

"Hell, I’ll lead the way."

He took a step toward the door. "Are you coming?"

I paused and thought. "Sir, let me show you that I’m a man. I want to walk in first." Then I giggled. "Will you hold my hand though? I need all the support I can get to do this."

He held out his hand. "That’s my soldier." For the first time he used my name. "Let’s do this, Cadet Greene."

At first, neither of us said anything. FInally, COL Sparks said, "I don’t know if you noticed, but I prepared the room for both of us. Look over there."

There were two snakes in a cage and a python on the outside. He said, "Thank you for showing me I need to face my fears as much as you need to face yours. Like I said, we’re going to do the next twenty-four hours together."

That was the longest night of my life. I can’t begin to explain the terror I felt, both from the spiders, and the things I faced in myself. Col Sparks and I talked all night long.

An alarm went off on his phone. "OK, time’s up. Let’s go to my office for just a few minutes."

Once we were seated, he started the conversation with, "You were a damned fool to trust me the first time we met, and I was disappointed that you did. If you were half as smart as you think you are, you would’ve seen through me in a minute, instead of sitting there thinking I was cool."

He kept going. "I’m extremely sorry I had to put you through that, but I’m not sorry I did it. You were on the fast track to prison or the graveyard, and I did what I had to do to break you."

He shook his head. "I’ve been doing this a long time, and I knew I had to break you to reach you. Some kids will let you in without all the heartache I put you through, but you weren’t one of them."

"Cadet Greene, I want to get serious now, deadly serious. Yes, I’ve broken you, but I want to help you reshape yourself into the wonderful person that I know you have hidden inside you. Will you let me do that?"

Tears and snot were everywhere. "Please, sir. help me."

"Welcome back to life, Cadet Greene. If you’re ok with it, the first step we’re going to take toward getting you back into the human race is getting rid of that stupid haircut. Are you with me?"

The biggest grin of my life spread across my face. "SIR, YES SIR!"

We walked to the "barbershop". He picked up the clippers. "Do you mind if I do this? I want to be a part of your recovery."

"Sir, smartass me wants to say I don’t care who does it, but honest me would like to say please and thank you."

He buzzed my hair off quickly (not that I had much hair left to buzz), and every clump of hair felt like a weight off my shoulders. I felt lighter, and peace flooded through me. Somehow, I knew things were changing for me.

He stepped back. "You look like a cadet is supposed to. What an improvement. Do you want to see?"

"SIr, yes sir."

He handed me a mirror, and sheer joy flooded me. I hadn’t realized how much shame I carried because of my "hairstyle". A huge smile spread across my face. "Thank you, sir." I reached up and ran a hand over my whole head, thinking, "Thank god there’s no more fringe."

I looked at it a little longer. "SIr?"

"Yes?"

"May I ask a favor, sir? Would you shave my head? I want to honor a hero, and I’ve heard imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

A smile as big as mine transformed his stern face into a kind, loving visage. "I’ll be honored. Let me go get a razor."

"Sir, one more thing. Can you leave the door open? I’m kinda tired of shut doors."

The smirk on his face said a lot. "I can understand that. I’m tired of them too."

He returned with a couple of razors, shaving cream, towels and a bucket of hot water.

"Ready?"

I nodded. He put one of the towels in the hot water, and then wrung it out. After wrapping a couple of hot towels around my head, he said, "I’m going to let those set for a few minutes, so it softens the hair up."

COL Sparks seemed lost in thought, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. Suddenly he blurted out, "I honestly thought you would’ve shaved your head at some point during all of this, just to piss me off. Why didn’t you?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Permission granted."

"I honestly thought about shaving my head several times, but always answered the thought with, ‘Don’t do it. It will give COL Asshole the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you. Just live with it, and torment the bastard a little’."

He grinned. "It was a torment. Making sure someone was there to check that you were shaving your head every two hours was a real pain in my ass!" He looked at the ceiling. "Please god, don’t ever let someone else tell me they hate a bowl cut. I don’t want to go through that hell again."

I laughed. "Old me wants to stand outside the doors and wait for the next cadet with long hair to come in and tell him to tell you he hates a bowl cut." I grinned. "Don’t worry, Colonel. Your secret fear is safe with me. I’ll take it to my grave with me."

He whacked me on the top of my almost bald head. "You’d better keep it. This is one fear I don’t want to face."

He reached up and pulled the towels off my head. "Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

He spread shaving cream over my head, and for the first time I felt a razor going over my head. The sound of the razor removing the stubble from my head sent chills down my spine. (I still love the "skritch" sound of a razor on my scalp.)

He handed me the mirror. All I could think was, "Oh, my god. I thought I was handsome before, but I look even better now!’ A slow smile spread across my face.

I reached up and felt my scalp. Nothing in my life had prepared me for how amazing it felt to rub my hands over my head and feel nothing but skin on skin.

COL Sparks was looking at me expectantly. I toyed with the idea of being a smartass, but honesty won out. "I love it sir. The only thing that would make it better would be if I had a mustache to go with it."

"I agree, but unfortunately, school rules forbid facial hair on cadets, but I fully expect to see one start growing on your face the day after graduation."

"You know I hate the fricking rules, but you can count on a mustache being on this face after graduation, sir."

He looked at the door and barked, "SGT Gonzales, you may enter now."

SGT G walked in with an armload of military clothes: uniforms, hats, t-shirts, socks, underwear and boots. He laid them on the table, and walked out of the room without a word.

I stood there staring at the clothes, my mind refusing to accept what my eyes saw.

COL Sparks’ eyes glimmered with mischief. "Cadet, why are you standing there wearing a Steve Urkel costume? Did you not realize this is a military academy, and that uniforms are required at such schools?"

I looked at him. "Really, sir?"

"You’ve earned the right, Cadet Greene. Now, if you’re not in uniform in five minutes, I’ll have you digging another hole."

"Sir, I can do it in three!"

I didn’t even think about asking him to leave, I just started stripping…but as you can tell from my story, modesty has never been my thing.

It felt so good to get out of the costume. I stood proud in my uniform, and for the first time, I wondered what it would feel like to wear an actual, bonafide, U. S. military uniform. I thought, "That’s an idea. You might want to consider it."

After getting into the uniform, I turned and executed the most perfect salute I was capable of.

He returned the salute, and said, "Welcome to St. Pisgah Military Academy, Cadet Greene."

"Sir, what’s today’s date?"

"February 17th. Why?"

"Sir, I just want to make sure it’s not April Fools Day."

After his laughter died down, he hugged me. "You’re going to be alright, kid. If you still have a sense of humor after all I’ve put you through, you’re going to be just fine."

I never dreamed I would be so happy to get my hair buzzed off, but that was the happiest day of my life…and in many senses, the real start of my life.

He started talking to me. "Son, I knew you were stubborn the day I first met you, but honestly, I had no idea how stubborn you could be. I’ve never had anyone last more than two weeks under my mean persona, and you lasted two months. I really thought you were going to be my first failure. May I give you a piece of advice?

"Yes, sir."

"Try to channel that mulish obstinance of yours into something positive."

"I will try, sir…and thank you for working so hard on my behalf."

On graduation night, COL Sparks came up to me and congratulated me. "Here’s my phone number, and I want you to do me a favor."

"Yes, sir. Whatever you want."

Give me a call a week or two before your twenty-first birthday. I want to be the one to buy you your first legal drink." He smirked. "Notice I said first legal drink. I would bet everything I own that you’ve had more than one drink on the illegal side."

"Sir, I plead the fifth of that one, but I would love to have that first legal drink with you."

He turned to walk away, and then executed an about face. "Brent, I have to say, I’ve had a lot of kids come through here that made me proud, but I have never been prouder of any student than I am of you. The turnaround you’ve made is one for the record books, and I’m proud to have been a part of it, and even more proud of what you’ve done."

Tears filled my eyes. "Thank you sir, and thank you for not giving up on me. I’ll owe you for the rest of my life. If I can ever do anything for you, all you have to do is ask. I’ll do what you need, or die trying."

"All I need is for you to be happy, and do the best you can, at whatever you attempt. If you do that, I’ll be happy."

I was too choked up to reply, so I hugged him and left.

I left for basic training the next day. Yes, I joined the Army. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life, and figured four years in the military would give me enough time to figure it out.

On one of my return trips home from military life, Dad and I were sitting by the pool talking, when I said, "Dad, I don’t know how much money is in my trust, but would there be enough for me to establish a scholarship at Mt. Pisgah?"

"Enough and more. You could give half of it to the scholarship fund, and still not run the risk of running out of money in your lifetime."

He looked at me. "Don’t forget, I’ll be leaving you a lot too."

"I’ve been thinking about that. I’m doing ok on my own. My art is selling, and while the army doesn’t pay a bunch, it pays enough for me to live on. Someday I will have Mom and Grandma’s money. I won’t need more. Why don’t you leave my share to some charity, or Mt. Pisgah?"

"I’ll think about leaving Mt. Pisgah some, but I still want you to have something from me. I failed you once, and I don’t want to do it again." He paused for a second. "Son, you can say no, and I will understand, but how would you feel about coming to work for me when your enlistment is up? I could start showing you the company, and you could take it over when I’m gone."

"Dad, I would be honored to run the company in your name…if you think you can trust me with it, but I don’t need your money. I have your name and your love. That’s enough for me."
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Well, it looks like I’m on a roll of writing "different" types of stories.

Let me start my notes by saying that this story is entirely fictional. It started with the simple idea of a teen pulling pranks to get kicked out of school, and his father making him get a haircut as a punishment. I tried to develop that, and it went absolutely nowhere. I switched to a boarding school, and still nothing. It wasn’t until I had the thought, "Boarding school probably means rich. A rich, bratty spoiled boy might work."

The leap from a boarding school to a military academy seemed logical. It’s a likely place for a rich, bratty child to wind up when there were no other options.

I toyed with the idea of giving the story a sad ending (actually, I wrote a lot of a sad finish), but it just didn’t seem right. You’re stuck with a sappy, happy conclusion.

Since I’ve never been a spoiled rich kid, I had no idea what fears or angst they would have, so I just put some of my personal thoughts into Brent’s head.

I don’t know how I came up with the ideas for some of the shenanigans Brent pulled. Honestly compels me to admit I was never brave enough to do anything like this, and honestly, never even thought about trying antics of the extreme that Brent did.

On to the next topic. I have never been to a military school, nor have I known anyone who has been to a military school (or a boarding school). Every event at the school is from my imagination, or from my army days. I hope my making up a story involving a military academy does not become a disservice to military academies.

Before you jump on me for writing about shaming a child, let me say this. First, this story was written for entertainment, not social commentary.

Secondly, a seventeen-year-old is not a child, he’s a young man. Maybe a young man so full of himself that he doesn’t act reasonably, but he’s still old enough to be held accountable for his actions. Even the courts agree with that. Young men his age are often tried and convicted for their behavior.

However, I do NOT believe in humiliating young people. I believe that shaming a child (or teen) causes irreparable damage, and it is the cause of many people developing mental illness.

Shame may effect short-term changes, but it doesn’t address the core problems, and often leads to more, and worse, actions in the future.

In my opinion, shame either leads to rage and hatred or it causes a deep depression. Neither is going to lead to a positive outcome.

However, I am just as passionate about children being disciplined as I am concerned about them not being humiliated. Training a child how to behave properly is one of the main roles parents fulfill. However, there is a huge difference between shaming a child, and teaching a child. Yes, the child may learn from the shame, but they also learn unhealthy things that will affect them the rest of their lives. Discipline will teach them healthy habits that will benefit the child all of his/her/their life.

I would never condone anyone treating a teen like this school did.

Having said all of that, this story is not about a child. It’s about a seventeen-year-old young man who was spoiled all of his life. If there’s any abuse in this story, it’s the fact that the father never taught him that his actions have consequences. To me, that is a type of abuse, and leaves the young man bewildered when he hits the "real" world, and finds out he cannot do what he wants to, and survive.

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