Foster Forest (15): Mistakes They Made

Lizzie glared at the two girls who stood next to their social worker in the front room. Ms Becky seemed to be talking comfortably with the young woman with the black hair, and the smaller of the two girls was looking around the room, her blue eyes wide as she took in everything that the Foster Forest home had to offer. They were pretty, and both girls had the same dark, dark brown hair and blue eyes. The older girl was quite tall; in fact, she was taller than Ms. Becky, and very slender as well. She might be mistaken for a grown women if she had the curves that came with adulthood. The younger girl was petite, not much taller than Lizzie was herself. Her hair was shorter, cropped close to her head in a very grown up style that the ten year old didn't particularly like. The older one's hair fell close to her waist in twin braids.

At once Lizzie didn't like them. For one thing, she didn't like the way that the older girl was dressed. Her skirt was too short and she was wearing a blouse with a neckline that showed off the little swell of her budding breasts. The younger one wouldn't have been so bad except that she kept staring at everything as though she was in awe. Worse, Becky was smiling at both of them from ear to ear and spending time talking to the social worker.

The founder of The Forest had been so irritable lately that Lizzie had just been avoiding her, though that was nothing new. The home without books, however, caused the ten year-old to branch out more and seek other things to do. There was nothing to read since the fire that had consumed all of the books from the library, so she'd been forced to play outside with Jackson on the new playground equipment and even to spend time with Peter cleaning up the kitchen and scrubbing down windowsills and baseboards. It was boring and it was tedious and there were things she would much rather be doing.

It was bad enough that nearly the past week had been spent with Cody in a bad mood because of nightly punishments. Lizzie wasn't supposed to know about that, but she heard the grown ups talking often enough, and she'd caught on. Cody was in big trouble for the book burning, and before that for the stuff that he'd had on his computer, before that got taken away too.

Lizzie hated Cody. She would have been indifferent if he hadn't risked taking his laptop into the library that day while she was reading. The images on the screen were so disgusting, and they reminded her of how much it had hurt. At first Cody scared her, and she'd thought that maybe he would be just like the one guy, the guy who had called her Beth. To make matters worse, Cody was insistent on calling her Betsy, which not only rubbed her the wrong way but it also reminded her of being called Bethy, which was a name reserved for those special occasions when he...

Blinking several times rapidly, Elizabeth brought herself back to the present. She stood up from where she had been sitting at the bottom of the stairs watching and eavesdropping and went into the kitchen. Peter had been through earlier, scrubbing everything in a mad fury, and the usual lock was on the fridge to keep Jackson out. She sighed, bored out of her mind. She couldn't even eat when she was in one of these moods! Lizzie glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly four o'clock. Dinner would be ready in an hour anyway. In the meantime, there wasn't much to do. Cody was in the Great Room and she was pretty sure she'd seen Jackson follow him in there. She didn't want to be near the two of them, and she wasn't in the mood to go wandering around outside. She only hoped that perhaps Peter was at the bookstore buying the things on her list so that she'd have something new and different to do. One more day of cleaning and she thought she might crack.

"Liz!" Becky called, and Elizabeth felt a flood of relief rush through her as she trotted out into the entrance to see what her guardian wanted. The social worker, she noticed, was gone, leaving only Becky and the two girls, with Cody and Jackson off in the other part of the room. She put on her best smile, beaming up at the older girl and then the younger, the one she thought might be a year or so older than her.

"Hi," she said, turning her attention up to Becky.

"Lizzie, this is Felicity," Becky said, gesturing toward the older girl. Felicity just gave Lizzie a "look" and rolled her eyes away, crossing her arms over her chest. It was obvious that she wasn't in a position to be particularly friendly to the ten year old, and Lizzie just gave her a snotty look right back. "And this is Carly," Becky went on, acting as though nothing had happened. 

When Elizabeth turned her attention to Carly, the other girl was smiling, her blue eyes twinkling. Lizzie had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. What was the big deal, anyway? Hadn't this kid ever seen someone near enough to her own age? As though she didn't see the rolling eyes and evil looks the three girls were giving one another, Becky put her hand on Lizzie's back. "I thought you could show Carly to her room while I get Felicity settled in," Becky suggested. "She's going to be in number six, right across from you. Do you think you could do that for me?"

More chores. That was the only thing that Lizzie could think. It hadn't taken very long for Becky to show her true nature, pushing the children into the slave labor that she'd found was common in foster homes. Peter and his incessant cleaning, and Becky with her insistence that everybody "get along." It wasn't Lizzie's style, and she resented it. Instead of saying that to Becky, however, she shrugged her shoulders and said "sure." No point in risking getting punished over something so stupid, and it wasn't like there was anything better to do. She was hardly going to go hang out with Cody and the fat kid.

"Cody Aaron, I'm going to get Felicity settled into her room," Becky said. "I want that grate to be completely cleaned out before supper. You know what happens afterward."

Though her back was turned, Lizzie turned her head around and craned her neck to see the red flush rise to the back of Cody's neck. She smiled to herself and nodded her head with satisfaction, because she also knew what was coming next. Though she was certain that Jackson didn't have a clue, and of course the new girls were in the dark, Lizzie still took a great deal of pleasure in Cody's pain. As far as she was concerned, he deserved every lick that he got from Mr. Peter.

"Yes ma'am," she heard his reply, and then she started toward the stairs.

"So... Are you gonna give me a tour or what?" the dark haired girl said.

Lizzie blinked several times as she tried to remember the girl's name. Carla? She was good with names but she'd only heard it once, and the name didn't sit well with her for some reason. "You mean... Like show you were everything is? Ms. Becky only said to show you where number six was so that you could get your stuff unpacked. I guess it's already up there, cuz I don't see any bags."

"That guy took them up," the girl said, looking over her shoulder in the direction the two had just come. "You know, the one who's cleaning the fireplace. He took my bags up. Ms. Becky asked him to."

Lizzie shrugged. That must have happened before she'd come down the stairs. All she knew was that Cody wasn't supposed to be on the girls' floor. She'd make sure to mention something about that at dinner. Maybe his punishment would be extended out even further. She couldn't heard the spankings, but it was enough to know that he was getting it. One day he wore shorts and she was pretty sure she'd seen a mark on his legs. "He's not supposed to be on our floor," Lizzie said importantly as she started up the stairs. "The girls stay on the second floor and the boys stay on the third floor. Ms. Becky calls them the first floor and the second floor, just so you know. I think it's cuz she's not from here, you know, originally. I think she's from England or something like that. Anyway, we aren't allowed to go on the second floor and the boys aren't allowed on our floor. But if they come on our floor, you aren't allowed to hit them or anything. Just go and get Ms. Becky," Lizzie added, remembering the time that Jackson had shown up in the bathroom while she was taking a shower. She'd smacked him in the mouth, and they'd both wound up getting spanked for it. The memory made her cheeks heat up, and she turned her head away to hide her expression.

A moment later Lizzie and Carly were standing outside the door to number six. Lizzie had never been inside, and when she pushed the door open, she was somewhat displeased to notice that the room was just as nicely decorated as her own. She didn't have very  many personal things to make the room "hers" and so far nobody had offered to get her any of the things she so very much wanted and needed. The best thing would have been to have her own book shelf where she could put books that had her name written on the inside. But things, the special "effects" that other children had, were mostly given to them by parents, and her parents had been dead for almost as long as she could remember. Reflecting, Lizzie counted in her head. Yes, six years they had been gone, and she could no longer quite remember her Papa's face, and the last picture she'd had was long gone now.

"Okay, well this is it," Lizzie said. Not wanting to hang around and chit chat, she turned to go, but Carly's voice called her back.

"Do you like Ms. Becky?" Carly was asking as she dragged a suitcase up onto the bed.

Lizzie stared at the suitcase with some jealousy. She'd come with some old plastic bags. Not in the mood for conversation, she just shrugged her shoulders. "She's really strict," she said. She didn't want to talk about the spankings, especially if it let on that she'd gotten more than what she thought of as her fair share. It was embarrassing enough that she'd gotten any at all, but sharing that kind of information seemed as though it was crossing a personal line.

Carly shrugged. "My dad was pretty strict, too. I didn't get in trouble much, but just last month Fissy was in his office screaming her head off because he took a switch to her."

"A..." Lizzie shook her head, not sure that she wanted to know.

"You know, a switch. Like a branch off a tree used for a spanking. When you're really bad. I think Fissy took the car or something. She doesn't have her license yet. Have you been here long?"

Lizzie shrugged her shoulders again. "No. Three months. I been lots of other places. Some of them I stayed longer, some of them not so long," she said, tracing her fingers over the pattern on the bedspread.

"This is my first place," Carly said. "My dad died last month and we were staying with our aunt but she couldn't handle Fissy. I think she's been drinking. Felicity. I call her Fissy. I think she's been getting into the liquor cabinet and... Well, she was getting in a lot of trouble."

Lizzie looked up, impressed. Her eyebrows raised a little bit, and she had to force the expression off her face in an effort to look casual again. "There's no liquor here," she said seriously. "Ms. Becky wouldn't let it, and I think Cody would probably drink all of it anyway. He's the one who was cleaning out the fireplace," she added quickly.

"You don't like him," Carly said perceptively.

"Nope," Lizzie said. "But I gotta get downstairs. It's almost supper time and I been helping Ms. Becky make the food and set the table. She's probably got your sister all set up and ready to go anyway. Maybe you can talk to her and get her to help you unpack." It crossed Lizzie's mind a moment later that perhaps Felicity was doing her own unpacking, and she wasn't sure where she'd been placed.

She shrugged and started for the door. "Ms. Becky will call you for dinner," she said. She opened her mouth to offer to talk more after supper, but then she shut it again. There wasn't any point in saying something she didn't mean. It would just get her cornered by the new girl later on, and she didn't feel like talking to her anyway.

Lizzie found Becky in the kitchen, just putting the macaroni casserole into the oven. It would be about twenty minutes before supper was ready, and she set about putting the silverware on the kitchen table, careful to add two place settings at each of the two new chairs. Soon enough if there were any more residents they were going to have to move into the semi-formal dining room for their meals. The idea wasn't appealing to Lizzie, who had gotten used to being able to sit close to Peter when he joined them (which was often lately), but she recognized that she didn't have a lot of choice in the matter.

"What do you think of Carly?" Becky asked as she pulled glasses down from the cupboard and began to set them out on the table.

Lizzie shrugged. "She's okay." She couldn't understand why grownups felt the need to talk about these things. As though they were going to be instant friends or something like that, just because they were close in age.

As though echoing her thoughts, Becky said, "I thought the two of you might be friends. She's twelve years old and she just lost her father last month."

Right. Because Lizzie could so relate to somebody who had lost their father just last month. She could hardly remember her own, except that she'd called him "Papa" and he was the first person to ever call her Liz or Lizzie. She'd had six years to convince herself that she didn't feel an empty pit whenever she thought of him or whenever she saw other kids with their fathers.

Lizzie had never been relieved to see Cody before, but when the two boys burst into the kitchen, covered in soot, she breathed a sigh and slipped away from Becky. At least now maybe the conversation could end. She didn't like the new girls and she certainly didn't want to talk about them. There wasn't any point, they weren't going to be friends, and she didn't want to get to know them, either.

"Hey Ms. Becky!" Jackson said excitedly. He pounced toward her, throwing his arms around her waist and leaving a smear of black soot on the back of her blouse. Becky laughed and dropped a kiss onto his forehead before leveling her gaze on Cody.

"I'm done," the older boy said. "If you want to check it..." he shrugged his shoulders. There was dirt on his shirt and he looked a mess. Lizzie wrinkled her nose. He smelled too, with the faint smell of old fire and smoke.

"Okay," Becky said in a firm tone of voice. "Both of you head upstairs and get your clothes changed and wash up for supper. We're having macaroni and cheese with garlic bread tonight. About ten more minutes, so hurry up. Lizzie, go and get the other girls. I want to make sure they don't miss their first meal here. I tried to make it special."

The smile she cast on Lizzie was genuine, and the ten year old couldn't help but smile back, her brown eyes brightening slightly as she spun on her heel to go and fetch the other two girls. She raced up the stairs and just gave a brisk knock on each door, calling out to the girl inside that supper was ready in ten minutes and that they should wash up and come downstairs into the kitchen. Then she was off downstairs again.

Lizzie slid into her seat next to where Peter always sat. He hadn't arrived yet, and that seemed rather unusual. Lately he'd been at dinner every night, and she knew from the quiet looks that passed between Becky and Peter that the punishments were happening once the meal was over, while Lizzie helped Becky clear the table and Jackson complained about not getting to have seconds or any dessert. Cody hadn't been coming to supper, but during the day the adults were keeping him so busy with chores lately that Lizzie only felt a little bit of resentment that he wasn't helping with the clearing up.

Elizabeth wasn't particularly planning on talking to anybody at supper that night. She didn't feel like socializing with the new girls, especially the chatty younger sister. Just because they were at the table together didn't mean that they had to talk to one another. Peter and Jackson were the two big talkers in the house, and usually Becky and Lizzie just sat back and listened. She didn't know how (or how much) the new girls were going to change the dynamic in the house, and it was on her mind when Cody came down the stairs.

Lizzie rolled her eyes, though her interest piqued when Cody went to sit down at the table. She watched him as inconspicuously as she could, her eyes following his movements. He stared at the hard kitchen chair for a long moment and then slowly sat down. His face screwed up in a dramatic wince, and his face became red as he settled his weight onto his backside. She couldn't help but smirk as her suspicions (based on what she'd heard the grownups talking about) were confirmed.

The two new girls weren't much behind Cody, and Lizzie turned her head to watch them enter. The older girl looked nervous, her blue eyes scanning the area rapidly, while the younger girl pulled out the chair next to Lizzie and sat right down. The ten year old rolled her eyes and bit her lip. The dark haired child seemed to get the point and was quiet, but the silence didn't last for long as Jackie and Peter strolled into the kitchen, chattering as was so common between them. Peter plunked down on Lizzie's other side, and Jackson went to his usual space, leaving an open seat for the older of the two new girls. She seemed to hesitate for a moment and then she sat down.

Everyone looked at Becky expectantly, and she gave a gesture with her right hand. "Well? Food no good? Come on, eat up!"

Dinner passed slowly for Lizzie. She didn't say much and in fact tried to stay out of the conversations that the others were having. Peter and Jackson talked for a while about how the little boy had been helping Cody with his punishment chores, and Lizzie perked up a bit when Peter shot Cody a scolding look that seemed to indicate that he shouldn't be getting the younger boy to help him with chores that were assigned as a punishment. Lizzie felt a hint of butterflies in her stomach, and she couldn't quite identify where they were coming from. She squirmed in her seat and glanced at Ms. Becky, who seemed to be watching her, and then back over at the older new girl, Fissy (that was what Carly had called her earlier). Fissy was just moving her food around on her plate and not eating much at all, and then she finally pushed it away and left the table.

Becky sighed, and it looked as though Peter was about to say something, but then he shut his mouth. "Nevermind," Becky said. "I'm done too," she added, picking up the plates and taking them to scrape and then rinse for the dish washer. "Come on, Lizzie, you can help me out. Carly, you too unless you have more unpacking to do."

"I'll help," Carly said, joining Becky at the sink. "I can wash if somebody wants to dry."

"We have a washer," Becky said.

Behind them, Jackson was still chattering. Lizzie wasn't paying attention, though she thought she heard him say something to Peter about "c'mon, I'll show you!"

She turned around for a moment, shaking her head. Lizzie wished that she didn't have all the stupid after supper chores that she and Carly were doing right now. Cody seemed to do most of his stuff during the day, and now Fissy was being allowed to head off to her room, too. Only the most basic chores were done by the younger kids, with the teens doing the harder work. Jackson was still too small to do much of anything at all.

The work was done quickly with only three people, and Lizzie was about to head up to her room, where she kept a small notebook full of stories she wrote herself. Just as she reached the stairs, she heard Peter's voice saying something to Becky. She didn't register the words, and a moment later was in her room, settling in with her notebook and her pen to jot down her ideas.

***

With the girls headed up to their rooms to settle in for the quieter part of the evening, Becky popped a mug of water into the microwave to get hot so that she could enjoy her nightly cup of tea. A quiet time had naturally evolved in the house, especially over the past couple of weeks. Peter didn't get the same peace that she did, at least not when he was dealing with Cody's misbehavior, but she thought it helped all of them shift into the mindset of night time and going to bed. She'd tuck Jackson in within the next hour and a half, and then Lizzie and Carly an hour later. The teens could stay up a bit later, though she liked to have the lights out by eleven. Without the television (even on the weekends), things were nice and calm around the house. She liked it that way.

She was about to put the tea bag into the mug when Peter came into the kitchen. His face was red, and he pushed Jackson along in front of him. "Becky, you need to hear what Jackson just told me. I think there might be a problem with Cody. A big problem."

Becky groaned inwardly and put her cup down on the kitchen table, then slipped back into her seat and dunked the tea bag. She liked her tea black and strong, so she allowed it to steep and made a "come on" gesture at Peter, letting him know that he should hurry up and keep talking. He was eating up her valuable quiet time. Cody had already been such a big problem that it didn't surprise her that there was more going on, and she raised both of her eyebrows at Peter, waiting for him to explain.

"Jackson, tell Ms. Becky what you told me," Peter said, pushing the boy forward gently.

The little boy looked from one adult to the other, a confused expression on his face. Whatever he was about to reveal, he didn't think it was that big a deal. "Umm... Cody was showin' me in the fireplace where there's the... The thingy that you pull to open the... thingy. He said it was stuck, but we cleaned up the whole fireplace real good. It's real clean now," he added, looking hopefully at Peter as though expecting praise.

"They did a good job," Peter said absently. When he met her eyes again, his blue eyes were steely and hard. "The 'thingy' that he showed me was the flue. When the fire started, nobody had opened the flue. The smoke was billowing out into the room. If Cody started the fire, I'd say he'd have opened the flue rather than risking us all smoking out."

"That's what he said it was!" Jackson said triumphantly. "The flue!"

Becky wasn't sure that she was following Peter's train of thought. They'd been through this. She was outside with Jackson when the fire was started. There was no way that Jackson was the culprit. Peter had been in the kitchen (and besides, she trusted him not to do something so stupid). Lizzie loved the books that had been burned, so she was out. That left Cody, who also had a motive to start the fire himself. Lizzie was the whistleblower who had gotten him in trouble for the pornography on his computer (and for having the computer online). "Okay... and?" she said, confused.

"He denied setting the fire, Becky. The flue was closed if the smoke was billowing into the room. Anyone who has half a brain (and Cody does) would have opened the flue before starting the fire so that the smoke wouldn't come back into their faces. If he knew where it was to clean it and close it when doing the job he was given, then why wouldn't he have opened it then?"

"I don't know..." Becky said. "Why?"

Peter looked frustrated, and he shook his head from side to side. "My point is that he would have opened it. Cody wouldn't have left the smoke coming out into the room and just calmly gone up to his room to play his guitar. Cody didn't light the fire."

"Okay," Becky said slowly. She was having a difficult time understanding what Peter's point was. "If Cody didn't start the fire, then who did?"

"We know it wasn't you or... Jackie, go on up to your room and put your pajamas on. I'll be up to read you a story in a little bit," Peter said. Though the boy pouted, he turned and headed for the stairs with some cheerfulness regarding the promised story.

When Jackson was gone, Peter turned his attention back to Becky. "We know that it wasn't you or Jackie who started the fire," he said plainly. "And I know it wasn't me. Now we know that it wasn't Cody either. Who does that leave?"

"We know it probably wasn't Cody," Becky corrected.

Peter waved his hand impatiently. "He never admitted to doing it, and now this thing with the flue... Other than Cody, that leaves us with Elizabeth."

Becky frowned, her brows coming together as a headache began to surface and brew quickly and violently behind her eyes. She thought hard for a moment, and then shook her head. "But you said he finally admitted...."

"No," Peter said. "I said that he apologized. A subtle but significant difference," he added.

Becky felt her stomach do a slow roll, and she stood up, abandoning her tea. "So he's been punished... Three days now," she said, glancing at the calendar. "The spankings, and on top of that the extra chores that we've been giving him. All this for lighting a fire that could have burned out the whole house. Killed all of us. And either he knew how to stop smoking the house out or... Lizzie started the fire. That's what you're saying."

"That's what I'm saying," Peter confirmed.

Becky felt sick to her stomach. She blinked, and then shook her head in frustration. This wasn't a mistake: this was a disaster. She reached up and rubbed her eyes, then glanced back at Peter. His hands were crossed over his chest and he had a very intense expression on his face. "So how do we fix this?" she asked.

"We can't," Peter shrugged. "I'm not going to touch it. There is no way in hell I'm going to go up there and talk to Cody after everything I've done. I'm not masochistic and I'm not that sadistic either. He's not about to talk to me as though nothing happened. As far as Elizabeth goes, you need to be the one to talk to her. I'm too furious with her to handle her right now. But I'm not going to buy those books she wants."

"Okay," Becky said with a nod. "Then I'm going to go up and talk to them." She reached for the paddle and grabbed it off its hook. She'd never used Peter's paddle before, but as long as it was available, she was going to put it to good use tonight, that was for sure!

Becky took a deep breath and turned toward Peter. "This is going to be hard."

He nodded. "Yeah. I can imagine. Just... We'll talk about it later." He was blushing, and Becky shook her head as she turned for the stairs and made herself slowly up the two flights to the boys' floor. Jackson was in his room and she could hear the sound of a radio playing from in there. Peter had given it to him two weeks ago for good behavior.

Becky didn't even pause outside Cody's door, but just pushed the door open and entered. She didn't close it behind her, wanting to make him feel as secure as she could. Nothing she was going to do to or with him was so private that it required a closed door. When she turned around and faced him, Cody was wearing only his boxer briefs, and his cheeks were flushed a deep crimson. The blue eyes were watering, and she could see tear tracks running down his cheeks. His hands covered his modesty  and he turned slightly away from her. From that angle, Becky could see the deep welts on his thighs, and tears sprung immediately to her eyes. "Oh Cody," she breathed.

"I... Uh... I though Mr. Peter was coming," the teenager said. His eyes were fixed on the paddle in Becky's left hand.

She quickly set it down on the dresser, then moved toward Cody. "Can you sit down? I need to talk to you."

Cody's hands were shaking, and his face was unbelievably red. He shook his head from side to side, though the movement was barely perceptible. "Can... Can I stand instead?" he asked. He sniffled, and Becky's heart sank even lower. His eyes watched her every move, and she sat down on the bed, leaving the paddle on the dresser across the room. She hoped it was clear that she didn't intend to use it.

Becky sighed, then quickly clamped her lips together. She gave a small nod of her head and sat down on the bed, smoothing her skirt under her as she put her weight down. Folding her hands in her lap, she looked up at him, her green eyes wide as she studied him for a long moment. One hand reached up and tugged at her long auburn braid and then she finally nodded her head slightly, coming to her own conclusions.

"Cody," Becky said. "Can you please tell me what happened the day of the fire?"

She waited, watching his face as the lines around the eyes twitched. They were dry now and had lost that liquid quality. He shifted from one foot to the other, his hands still covering the front of himself. Finally his face went expressionless, and he shrugged.

Becky turned her head to the side, watching his face, but the movements had stopped, and she could only imagine that he'd stopped thinking it over. She sighed and shook her head. "Cody..." she said. Then she paused, struggling with the growing sickness in her tummy and the lump in her throat.

"I already said 'sorry,'" Cody said in a weak voice. "Sorry."

Becky sighed again and tugged at the end of her braid. Her eyes darted over to the paddle again and then back to Cody. "That's not for you," she said suddenly, her voice a bit sharp.

Cody took a step back, and Becky breathed deeply through her nose, reminding herself of where she was and who she was talking to. "Cody, what are you sorry for?" she asked, attempting to level out her tone as her green eyes tried to meet his gaze. He was staring down at the carpet as though it was fascinating, and she gave another sigh, wishing that she could reach out to him without being rebuked.

After a moment, Cody raised his gaze and met Becky's eyes. "I ain't gonna lie," he said simply.

"Then tell me," Becky said, her voice soft. Her heart was beating too hard, hoping that she would hear him say that he'd set the fire so that the guilt could go away and they could move on. Either way the punishments would be stopped after tonight. She never wanted to see Cody like this again. "Tell me what you're sorry for," she said a bit more loudly, with more confidence in her voice.

"I'm sorry everybody's pissed off at me," Cody said, his voice hard, his blue eyes harder, then softening again as he glanced over at the paddle. "I'm sorry Mr. Peter's whipping my butt every night. I'm sorry he did it even once. I'm sorry I can't sit down at supper. I'm sorry I gotta do chores every day. I'm sorry my dad died and I'm sorry I'm stuck in this place!" His voice was vibrating with anger, and his hands had clenched into fists. There was no mistaking the emotion in Cody's voice, and Becky knew that she deserved no less than his outburst. In fact, she might have given it more if she'd been in Cody's shoes and her father was sitting in front of her.

Becky nodded her head a little bit. "Okay," she said. "I understand. I need you to tell me what happened that day."

"No you don't!" Cody snapped. He was trembling so hard now that he had to lean against the wall for support. "You don't care what I have to say about what happened that day. It doesn't matter! I'm just going to get beat and beat until I tell you I did something I didn't and nobody cares!"

"I do," Becky said. "You didn't light the fire. Peter figured it out. He told me." She let the words drop, and she looked up at the angry teenager. After a moment, she stood up. "I'm sorry, Cody. I'm sorry that everyone has been so angry with you. I'm sorry that you've been spanked every night, and worse that you've been strapped every night. I'm even more sorry that it was for something you didn't do. I'm sorry that your father died, and your mother before him. I'm sorry that you're 'stuck' here. I'm sorry that we didn't believe you in the first place. I'm sorry that you've had so many chores. I'm sorry that there's nothing I can do to make it better. I'm sorry that you're hurting." She paused. "I'm sorry that there's something else I need to do and that you won't let me hold you and make it better. I'll be here, every day. When you need me, you come find me. Peter too."

"Oh no! Because you can just up and leave. It's that easy, ain't it?" Cody snapped, just as Becky was about to pick up the paddle again and leave the room. "After all this... All... this," he said, waving his hands frantically. "I told him! I told him that it wasn't me and that asshole wouldn't believe me. Oh no! Of course not. How can we trust Cody? Cody never does anything right, it must be him who would set the stupid fire and nearly burn the house down. Of course Cody wouldn't be smart enough to open the flue. And who's stupid enough to apologize for something he didn't do? That's right! Cody again! Not as though I had any choice in the matter.

"So yeah, now everything's all hunky dory because you've figured it out. You're all great. You can walk on and move on to your 'other things to do' and I can just go on about my business like nothing ever happened. Never mind that my ass is covered in welts. Nevermind three days of hell. Nevermind how I feel! No! That's not important at all!"

Becky turned, a retort on her lips, but the tears in the teenager's eyes stopped her dead in her tracks. He blinked, and they rolled down his cheeks before he could reach up and scrub them away with the heel of his hand. Still the teenager was shaking, and he finally moved to the bed on trembling knees and fell down on it, burying his head in his pillow. She knew he was doing what he could to hide his shame. And she couldn't take her eyes off his backside, the area below his boxer briefs where the welts showed on his thighs, and the puffy area even under the fabric. Was Peter responsible for the tighter shorts? She shuddered inwardly and then slowly and carefully went to the bed and sat down on it, her hand reaching out and touching his shoulder. "Cody," she whispered, her voice low.

His body was shaking, and Becky continued to rub the teen's back for a long moment before she spoke again. "Honey," she said, bending down to kiss the back of his head. "I'm sorry," said. "I'm sorry for everything." Gently Becky wrapped her arm around Cody's shoulder and gave him a little squeeze. "I'm going to go away for a few minutes. Get up, take your shorts off, and lay back down. I'll be back in about ten minutes," she said, and then kissed the back of his head again and moved off the bed.

Becky picked up the paddle from the dresser and at the door turned to look back at him. The blonde haired fourteen year-old was still sobbing hard, and she let a tear trickle down her own cheek. The conversation she was about to have with Lizzie was going to be far from easy, and she would have preferred to stay and comfort Cody, though she felt that he might prefer to have the privacy, at least for right now.

Becky left the room, and this time closed the door behind her. Her right hand gripped around the worn wood of the paddle's handle tightly as she headed down the stairs toward the first floor of the house: the floor where the girls slept. She could hear sound coming from number ten, where Felicity would be sleeping, and she imagined that the sisters were helping one another to unpack and talking about their first day. If they didn't know how discipline was issued in this house, they were about to find out, Becky realized. It wouldn't be the most pleasant of introductions, but at least it was neither of the Slater girls going over Becky's lap tonight.

Outside Elizabeth's door, Becky paused for a moment. She wasn't angry, just disappointed that everything had worked out the way that it had. She was resolved to what needed to be done, but she wasn't going to make Lizzie face what Cody had. She would never, ever put one of the children through anything like that again. She would get this over with as quickly as she could, and then hopefully all of them would be able to move on at least peacefully. Cody had to regain her trust, and she had to regain his. It was going to be a difficult next few months.

After a moment of contemplation, Becky pushed open Elizabeth's door and went inside. She left the door open intentionally, knowing that the sound of the spanking would carry down the hall and potentially up into the second floor as well. Lizzie was on her bed writing in a notebook, and she looked up with a broad grin when she saw Becky enter. "Ms. Becky!" she said, then her face became gravely serious. "Did you know that Cody was on the girls' floor earlier? He put the things in the girls' rooms!"

Becky nodded. "I know." There was a pause while Becky processed, and then frowned deeply. "I am concerned by your need to constantly tell me what other people in this house have been up to. Especially when your tattling turns into lying. You know, like telling Mr. Peter that Cody set the books on fire in the fireplace."

Becky moved to the bed and took hold of Lizzie's arm, gently drawing her off the bed and then sitting down herself, moving the ten year old so that she stood between Becky's knees, facing her.

"What are you talking about?" Lizzie said.

"Cody knew about the flue. You open the flue so that the smoke goes up the chimney and not out into the room. I could account for me and Jackson, as well as Mr. Peter. That left you." Without another word Becky began to undo Lizzie's jeans and pushed them down to her knees. She didn't give the little girl the luxury of baring herself this time, in part because she wanted to get this done and get back to Cody. "You won't be getting that list of books, Elizabeth. I can't tell you how long it will be before we rebuild the library, but none of the rest of us really read all that much. Jackson likes stories pretty well, but we're still reading to him, and he has his books in his room. It will be a while," she added. All the while Becky adjusted Elizabeth's clothing and then calmly pulled the little girl over her knee and positioned her so that her bottom was high up over her left thigh. Not wanting to deal with a fight, Becky secured Lizzie's legs with her right leg. The child's upper body was laying against the bed, and her hands doubled up in the comforter immediately.

Not wanting to give Elizabeth the chance to struggle and get herself into deeper trouble, Becky took her right hand and pinned it to her back, securing the complacent little girl over her lap so that there was no chance of escape. "Cody's punishments aren't amusing. They aren't for fun. They hurt him, and this game you played hurt me and Mr. Peter as well. Ultimately it also hurts you, because now neither of us can trust anything you tell us. Maybe we'll have to remind you of the boy who cried wolf, and what happened to him in the end. But right now I have another lesson in mind," she said. "One that involves your bottom and Mr. Peter's paddle."

No more words were necessary, and Becky wasn't really in a talking mood. She'd already explained to Lizzie what was happening, and she'd had a long enough talk with Cody as well. Now she wanted to get this done with and go back to the child who she felt needed her the most: Cody.

Even as she raised the paddle and brought it down with a brisk flick of her wrist on Elizabeth's bottom, Becky felt torn and conflicted. She cared about the welfare of the all of the children who were under her care. She cared about them enough to try to show them the right way, and as far as she was concerned, that meant a good, old fashioned spanking. That was how her parents had done it, and too many people these days had dismissed spanking as a form of discipline. It wasn't getting society anywhere good, and so Becky believed in the firm application of hand, paddle or hairbrush to the naughty backside of an errant child.

Becky flipped the paddled against Elizabeth's other cheek. Already the little girl was squirming hard. She knew that the paddle was a nasty little thing, though she'd never felt it herself, and as far as Becky was concerned, it wouldn't take much of its use to get the desired effect out of Elizabeth. She never, ever, wanted to have to deal with the ten year-old manipulating another child into trouble again. No, she wasn't spanking for the fire, which was bad enough. Cody had been punished (unjustly) for that. Becky was spanking Elizabeth for the lies that had caused Cody to be whipped with Peter's belt, not once, but three times.

Still without speaking, Becky brought the paddle down again, each spank rounding both cheeks. She wasn't spanking hard, but crisply and cleanly, with a slow deliberateness that would be frightening and infuriating for the child who squirmed helplessly over her lap. Elizabeth was already crying. Becky could hear the choking sound of her sobs as she twisted, and that was only three spanks into the paddling. The flesh of the girl's backside was already beginning to heat up, and she could feel waves of warmth rising as she raised her hand again, the paddle gripped tightly in her fingers. It wouldn't take long before the little girl had a dark pink and very warm backside, and even then Becky wouldn't be finished with her, even if she did end the spanking there to attend to Cody.

"I care about you, Elizabeth," Becky said in a firm voice. She was surprised to find that there was a lump in her throat as she cracked the paddle down with a quick snap again. "If I didn't care about you and your well being, it would make a lot more sense for me to be with Cody right now. I don't know why you make the choices that you do, but I have a responsibility to help you make better ones."

With that the paddle snapped down again, and Becky applied it earnestly to the little girl's sit spots, that tender crease where the bottom and thighs meet. She kept up with crisp spanks, more quickly now, applying the brush just a few more times until the area was a dark pink and smoldering. She could just make out where the holes in the paddle were, and determined that the squirming child would be left with a couple of small marks for the next several days that would remind her of her misbehavior.

Becky was done. Cody needed her more right now than Elizabeth did, and she felt that the paddle had done its job. If not, then she would reapply it as many times as necessary until Elizabeth was ready to stop putting others in the position of being punished unjustly (or justly, for that matter). Nobody liked a tattletale, and that included Becky. However long it took Elizabeth to figure out who was in charge and in control, she would keep working at it.

For now, "Elizabeth, go stand in the corner, hands on your head, and don't rub your bottom. Stay there until Peter or I comes to get you ready for bed. We'll talk more about this in the morning."

Elizabeth had been silent throughtout the entire ordeal. She hadn't begged, or pleaded. She hadn't denied what she had done, nor apologized. Becky was too tired to press the issue, and she didn't want a false apology out of the little girl anyway. Wasn't that where the problems with Cody had really begun? She sighed and escorted the sobbing child into the corner and gave her a last, hard swat with the paddle before she left the room and headed downstairs to put the paddle away and get the things she was going to need.

By the time Becky reached the kitchen, she was exhausted. The headache was, strangely, gone, but she felt as though she could sleep for an entire day without waking, and her stomach was still churning. Peter was nowhere to be found, and she imagined that he'd gone upstairs to put Jackson to bed. She hung the paddle in its place, and then went into the first aid cupboard. Rummaging around for a moment she finally pulled out a tube of Aloe, the best thing she could think of. It would cool, at least, though it wouldn't do much for healing. That would take time.

Becky's heart was sad as she trekked up the stairs again, taking both flights to the boy's floor. Sure enough, Jackson's door was open and she could hear Peter's voice from inside. She went instead to Cody's door and gave it a quick, light rap. "Cody, can I come in?" she asked, allowing him, at least this once, his privacy.

"Yes..." came a small voice from inside the room.

Becky pushed the door open and entered slowly. "I'm going to close the door," she told Cody, and then shut it before turning around to see that he had done as she had asked, taken off the tight underwear and laid back down on his belly on the bed. She moved toward him and set the tube down on the night stand where he could see it, and then put her hand on his back. "I'm going to put something on you to help cool the welts off. It will feel good for a little bit, but it's not going to heal them. I'm sorry," she said, her voice dropping in volume.

The teenager nodded his head and shifted his weight a bit as Becky opened the tube and squirted some of the gel onto her fingers. She reached out her hand, and then glanced toward Cody's head. "I'm going to touch you," she said, wanting to make sure he was prepared for it. "I'm going to be as gentle as I can. If I hurt you, I want you to tell me."

When Cody nodded, Becky gently began to apply the gel to his thighs. She worked her fingers lightly only over the welts, but when she heard him sigh, she froze. "Okay?" she asked. But he nodded again, and she returned to her work.

The welts were bad, raised, with purple around the edges, and a little showing of wrap from the end of the belt where Peter had swung it carelessly. But that was the way with straps: they almost always wrapped around something, and Cody was lucky that he didn't have any serious nicks. She'd talk to Peter later on about either learning how to use it more effectively or not using it at all.

It took nearly twenty minutes before Becky was finished, and when she went to check on Cody, he was sleeping. For a moment Becky was surprised, and she nearly woke him, but instead she brushed the short hair at his temple and gave him a gentle kiss. He was sleeping on top of the covers, and she figured that he would feel better with the cool air on his rear end anyway.

With a sigh, Becky went to the door, turning back one last time to make sure that Cody was still peaceful before she slipped out of the room to get the two younger girls settled into bed.