I was beginning to regret trying to get away without staying after school. I would regret it even more. After the others left, Mrs Nielson closed the door, looked at me with a combination of anger and disappointment and said: “I really never expected this of you. Since you failed to come back after school not once but twice, you’ve left me no other choice.” She reached behind a filing cabinet and pulled out a wooden paddle. It was about a foot long, including the handle, four or five inches wide and maybe a quarter to a half-inch thick. “I don’t like to have to paddle my students but sometimes it is necessary. This is one of those times. Come up here.”