An Old-Fashioned Education (2 page)

BOOK: An Old-Fashioned Education
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“Certainly,” Pollyanna said, although inside she was still seething. But she felt a sense of satisfaction, too. She had more than one laptop; she’d give him the older one. The newer one had a wireless card. And then there was her iPad; the kids would love that. But she’d have to wait. She’d not expected Walt Springer to react so have such an intense reaction to what she thought should be every kids’ birthright.

“We have the latest set of encyclopedias and a whole library of other reference material,” he said. “In fact, we have so much that last year we added a little library onto the school.”

There was no mistaking the pride in his voice and Pollyanna felt herself touched in spite of her misgivings.

“Look,” he said. “I know that our ways may seem different to you, but you said in the interview that you had an open mind and Ms. Perkins, let me tell you right now that you are going to need it. When I said we were a simple people, I meant just that; not only will you not find technology here, but you won’t find political correctness, either. We live in much the way that our forefathers did. We work the land. The families here are led by strong men and the women accept that in a completely submissive fashion.”

Pollyanna shook her head. “Whoa, wait a minute. What do you mean by submissive?”

The snowcat ground around a corner. Ahead in the forest, Pollyanna could see cabins. They looked homey, welcoming. Lights shone golden through the windows.

“Exactly what I said,” he replied. “The women here are submissive.”

“You didn’t say anything about that,” she replied. “And I am not a submissive person, so don’t even think–”

“I’m talking about our wives,” he said. “No one is asking you to be submissive, except to the rules. And I believe you’ve already promised to abide by them.”

“Yes,” she said haltingly.

“So you’ve agreed in your own way to be submissive.”

Snow was falling in huge fat flakes now. Above them, the fir canopies were already getting a coat of white.

“Why do you feel the need to tell me this?” she asked.

Walter Springer guided the snowcat into a big pole barn and cut the engine.

“Because,” he said, “the fact that you brought the laptop tells me something about you. It tells me that you may have ulterior motives, and that you weren’t as on board with our philosophy as we’d hoped. We screened our potential teachers for a reason, Ms. Perkins. We wanted a teacher here who would replace the one we lost. We wanted a teacher who would support our values, even if she did not completely understand them or agree with them. We wanted someone open-minded, someone who would not betray us.”

“Is that what happened with your former teacher?” she asked. “Did she disagree with the way things were done around here?”

“Not every person understands our way of life,” he said.

“But is that what happened?” she asked again.

They stared at each other through the dim light of the cab.

“If you must know, Ms. Perkins, yes, that’s exactly what happened. The teacher you’re replacing betrayed us all. She betrayed our community and she betrayed the children in her care.” He looked away. “Two in particular.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “Did you try to work things out with her? I’d like to know, because we may have differences. Communication is important.”

“Every effort that could be made was made,” he replied. “But things will be done differently this time around. I intend to make sure we are not betrayed again, so you can expect me to run a tight ship, Ms. Perkins. A very tight ship. And if that ship is rocked, you can expect consequences.”

She grew quiet. “Can I ask one more question? What was the teacher’s name?”

He paused, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if he was going to answer.

“The woman you’re replacing is Melissa Springer,” he said. “She was my wife.”

 

Chapter Two

Pollyanna didn’t feel so confident anymore. What had she gotten herself into? Snow was already coating the ground and the forest around the little compound was so thick that even if it weren’t below zero and snowing she’d never find her way through it. And to top it off, the man who’d hired her had a chip on his shoulder following the departure of the teacher she was replacing—the teacher who had also just happened to be his wife.

Walt Springer had warned her not to defy him, but as Polly settled into the little cabin that had been erected just for her, she found that her resolve to do just that was growing. True to his word, Walt had confiscated the laptop she’d brought. He’d taken pains to unapologetically reiterate the community’s long-held belief that too much technology led to social detachment, reduced physical activity and a diminishment in imaginary play among children.

“When they’re older, they can make the decisions for themselves as to whether they want to use that stuff,” Walt had said.

Polly had bitten her tongue to keep from arguing that preschool kids were learning computer basics these days, and when and if the Pepper’s Hollow children every left they’d find themselves surrounded by technology that everyone around them was already using with ease. She also wanted to tell Walt that he was a hypocrite; he and the other board members of the school had interviewed her via teleconference through a local service in the nearest town a hundred miles away, so they apparently had no problem using computer equipment if they needed it. She mentally compared them to some Amish people she’d heard about who used buggies on principle but who could still be caught clandestinely hitching a ride in a car to town.

But she said nothing, and now as she unpacked her bag and pulled out the second laptop and the iPad she’d secretly hung onto, she tried to think of the best way to incorporate technology into her lessons without the parents—particularly Walt Springer—finding out.

He’d said women in the community were “submissive.” Polly scoffed at the recollection. It was time the residents of Pepper’s Hollow got it through their collective granola-crunching heads that not everyone would assimilate into their backwards culture, even if they were trapped there for the winter.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Polly called out to the visitor that she was coming as she hurriedly stuffed the laptop, iPad and assorted cords back into her suitcase. For good measure, she leaned down and slid it under the bed before walking through the cabin’s one room to open the door.

A beautiful woman with long auburn hair stood on her stoop. She was smiling and holding a basket.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Noni.” She held out a hand.

Polly accepted the handshake. “Hi. I’m Polly.”

She stepped aside. “Please come in out of the cold.”

Noni stepped in and looked around. “Wow, they did a good job.”

“Excuse me?” Polly asked.

Noni gestured to the interior of the room. “The cabin,” she said. “I haven’t been in here since they finished it. Walt and the guys decided a single teacher would need his or her own cabin and so they built this after …” Her voice trailed off and then she suddenly handed Polly the basket, as if eager to change the subject. “I brought food. There’s flour, sugar, you know, all the staples you’ll need. I put a few loaves of bread and some jam in there, too.”

Polly took the basket. “Thanks so much.” She paused. “It’s okay, Noni. I know about Walt’s wife. He told me.”

Noni’s eyes widened. “Really? I’m surprised. He never talks about it.”

Polly walked over and put the basket on the kitchen counter. “Well, maybe he’s ready to move on. Having a spouse leave is hard, but it can be an important lesson if it teaches us to be more careful of how we treat others.”

“Oh, it wasn’t him,” Noni said, her tone almost frantic in its defensiveness. “Walt loved Melissa very much. He adored her and gave her the guidance and protection every woman dreams of.”

Polly turned. “Are you sure that’s what every woman dreams of?” she asked. “Some women dream of making their own way. Perhaps that was Melissa’s dream.”

Noni stopped, her expression slightly dazed, as if such a peculiar thought had never occurred.

“I shouldn’t be talking about this anyway,” Noni said quietly. “I just wanted to bring you the food. Sometimes I forget not to gossip, and if Paul finds out I did, then I won’t sit down for a week.”

Polly shook her head, confused. “What?” she asked. “Who’s Paul?”

“My husband,” Noni said. “He knows I struggle with gossip.”

There was another knock at the door and Polly turned, exasperated, to answer it.

“Mr. Springer,” she said. “Hello.”

“Ms. Perkins,” he said, and then looked past her. “I see Noni’s already come to welcome you.”

“Yes,” she said. “She brought me food.”

“And if you need anything else, don’t fail to let me know,” Noni said, hurrying out the door. Polly looked past her and the turned to Walt Springer. She wasn’t sure of just how to ask what she wanted to ask him other than just to come out and say it.

“Mr. Springer, do the men in this community hit their wives?”

He crossed his arms. “Why would you ask a question like that?”

Polly took note that he did not instantly deny it.

“Because Noni just said something rather odd, and as a professional member of this community, I’d like to know whether I should be concerned about the safety of the women and children here.”

The door was still cracked a bit and Walt closed it. Then he walked over and tossed another log on the fire before turning back towards Polly.

“Did Noni say her husband spanked her?” Walt asked.

Polly was surprised at how directly and calmly the community leader addressed the topic. He didn’t seem at all defensive; in fact, his tone was almost challenging.

“She alluded to it, yes,” Polly said. “And if that’s the case then Noni needs to be in a safe place and her husband needs to get some counseling for his anger.”

“I’ve known Paul for thirteen years, Ms. Perkins,” Walt replied. “I’ve never seen that man lose his temper. He’s the most thoughtful person I know.”

“So you’re saying she lied?”

“No,” he replied. “I know that Paul has spanked Noni when she deserved it.”

“Now you’re contradicting yourself, Mr. Springer.” Polly felt herself getting angry. “You can’t say he doesn’t lose his temper and then turn around and say you know he’s hit her.”

“Hit her? No. A spanking is not the same thing as hitting.”

“Hitting is hitting, Mr. Springer,” Polly said.

“Hitting is hitting,” he agreed. “And we did have one man here seven years ago, who struck his wife in anger. He hit her across the face one night during a fight. He was asked to leave, but only after he got a few punches in the face from his male neighbors. Violence against women is not tolerated, Ms. Perkins. However, loving correction from a male authority figure to a disobedient female in his charge is not just tolerated, it is absolutely encouraged.”

Polly was silent for a moment. “You know, I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” she replied when she found her voice. “No wonder you people isolate yourselves up here! If you tried living like this, the men of this community would be hauled away, and rightfully so.”

She went to the bed, reached down and pulled out her suitcase. “I’m sorry, Mr. Springer, but I can’t stay here now knowing what I know. I need to get back to civilization.” She turned. “I demand that you take me to the nearest town. I may not have been able to help the kids here the way I’d hoped, but once I get the attention of the necessary authorities you can be sure they will.”

Walt Springer didn’t move. Instead, he stood there studying her.

“There’s already four inches of snow on the ground,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said obstinately. “You have that snow machine. You can make it through. And it’s illegal for you to hold me here so you have to.”

“Tell me, Ms. Perkins,” he said. “What did you mean when you said you wouldn’t be able to help the kids the way you’d hoped?”

Polly was piqued that he’d ignored her demand to leave. She didn’t feel that she owed this man an answer, but at this point she also didn’t feel that she had anything to lose. If he wouldn’t take her back, she’d hook up her computer with the wireless card and email for help if she had to.

“I lied, okay?” she said. “When you described your community, I saw a great chance to educate not just the students, but a bunch of parents who were denying their children the right to ride the wave of technology the rest of the world is surfing.

He regarded her before speaking. “Do you remember in the interview how we stressed the importance of honesty in communication?”

She looked down. “Yes,” Polly replied. “But however wrong you think I am, what’s going on here is more wrong.”

He stepped towards her. “Ms. Perkins,” he said. “You know nothing of us. You’ve not met a single member of this community aside from me and Noni, but you’re going to base your opinion of us on something she said–”

“And you confirmed!” Polly replied hotly. “You admitted that the women here are beaten.”

“I did not.” His voice was dangerously low now. “Our women have never been beaten. They are spanked if they flagrantly and defiantly break rules they agreed to obey.”

He was closer to her now and Polly felt herself backing away in spite of herself.

“As far as I’m concerned, Ms. Perkins, that describes you quite accurately.”

Polly made to move past Walt Springer, but he took hold of her arm.

“Tell me,” he continued. “What would you do in my position? What would you do after you assured the others on the board that you’d found a perfect person to fill a position, flew that person out at both community and personal expense and then found out that they’d lied not just to you, but to everyone else?”

Polly’s heart was pounding. “I’d send them back.”

“Believe me, I’d like to,” Walt said. “But that’s not an option. We don’t have much in the way of technology up here, but we do have a radio and it appears that the snow you see outside is the leading edge of what locals call a hundred year blizzard. You’re here until spring at least, like it or not. And because I take responsibility for this community and you’ve revealed yourself to me as someone who cannot be trusted, I’m going to do something I would not ordinarily do to a woman who is not my own.”

Polly tried to jerk her arm away. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He ignored her. “I’m going to spank you,” he said. “You seem to think women here are beaten, but I’m going to show you exactly what happens to them when they break the rules. Afterwards, you can decide if you want a repeat. Come spring, if you still think women here are abused then I’ll haul you down to the valley and you can unleash any authority on me that you like. But for the moment, I’m the only authority around here.”

He pulled a chair from the table and sat down, pulling Polly over his lap. At first, she was too shocked to resist, but when his arm went around her waist in a restraining grip, she panicked and began to struggle. But it was no use. Walt Springer was strong, and when he began to spank her, all she could do was kick and curse. Polly was wearing blue jeans, but the denim fabric only staved off the burn of the punishment for a few seconds. Soon a stinging heat suffused her bottom and quickly grew from painful to unbearable.

“Stop!” she cried, but was unable to do anything to make that happen. Walt continued to spank her, his arm seemingly robotic in its assault. Polly pushed against his leg, the floor, anything she thought might give her some leverage to escape. But it was hopeless. The burning pain in her backside had pushed her beyond indignant cries into pathetic sobs and apologies, which were at first perfunctory and then heartfelt.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she cried. And she was, for even though she couldn’t believe what was happening, in the back of her mind Polly knew she’d been wrong to lie to Walt Springer and the others. She’d been wrong to come to Pepper’s Hollow with her own agenda when she’d assured them all that she was on board with their philosophy. Maybe, she thought, this was karma paying her back. But if it was, karma hurt. Karma hurt a lot.

“Please let me go!” she cried again. She was feeling weak from fighting Walt and slowly gave up. She no longer pushed against him or the floor but instead just kept her palms down and cried out as her bottom absorbed the impact of each punishing blow of his hand. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stopped. Polly felt shaky and disoriented as he tipped her back up to standing. Her hands flew back to rub the sting out of her backside, but Walt caught her wrists and restrained them in front of her.

“No,” he said. “You’re going to feel this for a while. In fact, I want you to go over here–” He got up and led her to the corner of the room. “–putting your pretty nose in that corner. And while you’re there I want you to think about how you’d feel if you were in our situation.”

Polly said nothing. She was too afraid to. But behind her she could hear a zipping sound and her heart sank as she realized that he was going through her suitcase.

“Computer,” she heard him say. “Gadget. Another gadget. Wow, Ms. Perkins. When you mislead someone, you really go all out.”

BOOK: An Old-Fashioned Education
9.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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