Walking into her classroom, Belinda was shocked to see someone had drawn a cartoon of her being paddled by Principal Ferguson on the blackboard. She knew immediately who had done it. She had recently filled in for the art teacher, Mr. Fox, when he was recovering from surgery. Tammy was in that class, too, and Belinda knew she was an amazing artist. Belinda shot Tammy a dirty look, and realized for the first time, with her curly red hair, sea green eyes and pale complexion, she looked like a teenage version of her mother. She should had known she was Rachael’s daughter.

Looking back at the blackboard made Belinda’s blood boil. She was dying to say something to Tammy, but she knew whatever she told her, she would repeat it to her mother. Rachael had just given her the worse paddling of her life. She never wanted to give her a reason, to do it again.

She decided to pretend the drawing didn’t bother her, and picked up an eraser and erased it. Then turning back to the class, with her paddle in her hand as a warning, told them, “I know some of you would love to see a teacher getting paddled. But that’s never going to happen. We’re all responsible adults. Only naughty, disobedient students are paddled here.”

Belinda then walked over to her desk and sat down. The minute her fiery red rear touched her hard wooden chair, she flew back up, her eyes as big as saucers, shouting, “GOD IN HEAVEN, THAT HURTS!”

Belinda felt like a swarm of killer bees were using her rear for target practice. She hopped from foot to foot, trying desperately to rub away the sting, moaning pitifully. Her entire class was laughing uproariously at her antics. Through watery eyes, she saw Tammy smiling, “Are you sure, Miss Krüger, principals NEVER paddle teachers?”