I said to myself; does that mean he has spanked the boy before, or intends to spank him again?For the love of God, the velocity with which he had spanked him made me think the poor kid had been sentenced to death by corporal (not capital) punishment!All the more so, as the more the boy cried and begged him to stop, the faster and harder Tammik seemed to spank him, as he ordered him to I nervously turned my head sideways to see the boy – who could not have been more than about fourteen years old – crying uncontrollably like a baby; his bottom was fire engine red all over, and turning more crimson-like with every smack, but Tammik did not let up and continued to spank him fast and furiously.
I’m not even a great swimmer or good at running, though I suspect that that, too, is due to my dyspraxia and – whilst not being intentionally clumsy – never too sure, how best to coordinate my feet.
PE was just about bearable at the primary school I attended from the age of four until I turned eleven, but at my last secondary school it soon proved to be intolerable, as I was routinely bullied by the other boys for being the weakest link in any team game and by a succession of PE teachers who, like the evil Tammik, assumed I was been intentionally slothful or clumsy in their lessons.
I laid face down on my bed and began rubbing my bare bottom to assuage the pain, and began sobbing all over again, as I reflected on my first PE lesson and first after-school detention at Walthamstow High School for Boys. My new Form Master, Mr Holmes, and all the other boys in my class seemed to be pleasant enough, and my first lesson of the day – English, with Mr Webster – had gone well too; not that I had expected it to go any differently if I am to be honest, as I have always enjoyed English as I enjoy reading - even if Shakespeare himself can be a bit of a bore - and various folk have told me I am good at writing.
My second lesson of the day, History, had also gone reasonably well, even though my new History teacher, Mr Morris, was rather dry compared to my History teacher in my previous school.
There was something not quite right about the whole thing; something which made me more than just suspicious that Tammik was not simply punishing the boy, but almost certainly physically and possibly sexually abusing the boy.
I wanted to say or do something, but was too afraid to do or say anything.At least none of my previous PE teachers had actually spanked me for being below-average ability in their class – though, often, I was left to scrub-out the communal shower stall, naked and on all four’s for all to see and jeer, after me and my peers had finished showering after class – as punishment for under-achieving in class, throughout the five years I was there (from the age of eleven to sixteen).The Tammik creature, however, appears to be a throwback to the 1950s when, by all accounts, corporal punishment in schools was liberally used to reprimand boys who failed to meet the expectations others had of them.I couldn’t stop thinking what he had said all afternoon.It was most unlike me, to face an after-school reprimand, even if I do say so myself, as I am generally well-behaved at home and in school, so it came as quite a shock to be told to report to him later in the day.For the record, I am no more interested in being competent at metalwork (in CDT) and speaking in some foreign language than I am in being some semi-professional footballer/gymnast (in PE), just because some fat kid continues to make himself ever more obese by pigging-out on unhealthy foodstuffs rather than consuming a healthy diet! I’m going to have mine as soon as it has finished browning in the oven as I’m ravenous but I will put yours to one side and you can always heat it up later after I’ve gone to work.