She was just eight years old and it was a warm spring afternoon. Even though it was Saturday, her father had gone into the office. To tie up a few loose end, he’d said. Pam and Penny, who was four years-old, helped their mother with the weekend chores of bed-making, dusting, and folding and delivering laundry. Once they’d finished and after lunch, Pam asked, “Mama, can Penny and I go play at the playground?” Helene thought a moment and said, “Yes, but only for about thirty minutes because Penny will need to take her afternoon nap. I’ll come get you two when it’s time.” Pam grabbed her sandals and put them on. Penny put her sandals on by herself and just needed a little help with the stiff buckle part. They left the house and walked to the playground only four houses away. Penny ran to the swings and sat in one. “Pammy! Push me, please!” Pam was happy to push her sister for a while and then attempted to teach her how to pump her legs. Penny tried, but wasn’t able to manage to gain enough momentum to keep herself going. “Maybe when I’m five I can do it,“ she said, as she hopped off and trotted over to the twirly slide. They raced to see who could climb the steps and slide down the fastest. Penny was quick, but not always quick enough. So Pam, who was a good big sister, slowed down enough that Penny could win every so often.
After watching Penny bury her feet in the sand, Pam said, “You know, there’s another playground in our neighborhood. And it has one of those merry-go-rounds.” Penny exclaimed, “Oh, yeah! Daddy took us one time and he spinned us and he spinned us and we got sooo dizzy! I love that park!” Pam considered a moment. She tried figuring how much time they had left before their mother came to collect them. Since they had only been on the swings and the slide, she calculated that they had enough time to walk the few blocks, spin on the merry-go-round for a little while, then come back to this playground until their mother arrived.
“Hey, Penny? Why don’t we go to that one for just a little while?” Ever the honest four-year old, Penny said, “No, Pammy. Mama said we could go to this playground,” pointing at the grass beneath her feet. Pam argued, “But we can be really fast and come right back!” and studied her sister’s expression. Reluctantly, Penny said, “Okay . . .” and they headed off at a rapid pace. Every so often, Pam would get too far ahead and would stop and wait for her sister to catch up.
The playground was further than she’d remembered, but they kept going. Finally, they reached their second playground of the afternoon. Pam felt a little worried about what they had just done because she rarely disobeyed like this. Within minutes, though, she and Penny were having a splendid time on the merry-go-round and Pam lost track of time. She was lying on her back next to Penny as they gazed up into the clouds. She heard a car door slam and quickly sat up. It was her family’s maroon station wagon and her mother was walking briskly their way. Pam’s stomach dropped as she glanced at her little sister, then at her mother.
“Pamela Morgan Beesly! What on earth are you doing here?! I have been looking for you two for almost an hour!”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Pam forced out the words, as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Penny started wailing immediately. Helene took each of her daughters’ hands and led them to the car to head home. Pam stared out the window and sniffled all the way back to the house. Her mother carried a sound asleep Penny to the girls’ bedroom and laid her on the bottom bunk. Pam had been instructed to wait on the stool in the corner of the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to sit on that stool. Tears flowed freely as her mother entered the room. She sat on the edge of the couch cushion, curled her finger at her daughter, and said, “Come here, Pamela.” Her mother only used her formal name when she was in trouble. Pam stood up and slowly walked over. Helene positioned her daughter so that she was standing in front of her and made direct eye contact with her eight-year old. “You disobeyed me. And you went beyond your boundaries without permission and brought your little sister with you. I was worried when I didn’t see you two and I was so disappointed and angry when I realized what you had done.” Nothing made Pam cry more easily than disappointing her mother. “I’m sorry, Mama . . . I won’t ever do it again.”
“I should hope not," Helene emphasized, “and you’re getting a spanking for what you did.” Pam cried even harder. “No, Mama, I don’t want a spanking. Please!” as she reached behind herself to cover her bottom. “You know the consequences for disobeying,” Helene stated, calmly. “Now bend over.” Pam knew she wasn’t going to change her mother’s mind. After several seconds of not moving, she gave one more tearful look and slowly laid herself over her mother’s lap. Helene lifted Pam’s sundress to expose the matching bloomers underneath. Pam kicked her legs outward at the sensation of the cool air. Her mother raised her hand and brought it sharply down on her bottom. Pam’s skin stung as tears streamed down her cheeks. She received several more stern swats until her mother felt that a lesson has been learned. Helene lowered Pam’s sundress and lifted her sobbing little girl to sit on her lap. She look her chin in hand and lifted her face. “I love you,” she said, “and I hope you never sneak away again.” She hugged her as Pam said, “Yes, Mama. I won’t do it again. I promise.”
The memory faded as she heard her husband’s footsteps on the stairs.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Pam remembers a childhood spanking as she waits for Jim in their bedroom
