He loitered when the something happened-

What are you doing in here?

Mr. Gordon always checked the locker room after every class, some of the boys were old enough to masturbate. Some of them did. But, not in the school locker room. Not after Mr. Gordon had caught that one boy; the school told his parents the boy had fallen during track; the boy was too ashamed to tell them anything else. His name, what was his name? Harold, Harold and something. Teachers always said:

Harold, you're in Italy again.

What, Miss Ruth?

You're day-dreaming again, pay attention.

Miss Ruth always said that. Harold. He went to another school now-

I asked what you're doing in here?

Nothing. What again?

Nothing, Mr. Gordon.

You know better-

Yes sir

Than to remain in the lockers by yourself, it's against the rules. I don't like it.

Yes sir.

Stop saying yes sir.

Yes sir

Come over here. Joel, the Beck boy. Come here. Take down your pants, I tell when a boy's been playing with himself; so let's just have a look at you. Well, take 'em down, Joel. What are you standing there for?

Mr. Gordon.

What again?

Mr. Gordon always said what again. It was a nervous tick he had; it caused some people's skin to crawl. You could almost feel it coming before he actually said it. What again? Joel SQUIRMED when he said it now, because it meant that Mr. Gordon was in no mood to waste time or listen to excuses. Some things people say are like that, you know what they mean even when they don't exactly say it. Joel lowered his eyes, then let down his pants; then his shorts; then took off his shirt. The examination went on for a long time. Only Mr. Gordon's hotand-cold hands punctuated Joel's intense state of shame. He was aware of his breathing, coming and going almost in time to Mr. Gordon's sharp snorts of breath.

I thought so, I thought as much.

What sir?

What again?

The look Mr. Gordon gave Joel made him bite his lip on the inside, and open his eyes wider in an effort not to cry. He felt shriveled and small, like a burnt out cinder must feel-

Come on, I'm going to see that you get the shower of your life. I'm going to wash all this filth out of you, if it takes all morning. What you boys don't realize is, puberty is a dangerous age to go playing with your pricks; a very dangerous age. You can damage yourself permanently, deform your body for life. Come along, this is to be a lesson.

Joel was mute with humility, stung to his young troubled heart by humiliation. Mr. Gordon lathered him with stale soap and gave his body a long, stinging

one

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