Illustrated by Lee Kuruganti © 2008
When in Rome
© by Avis Hickman
Apparently, Derek was in trouble again. He stood in the Headmaster's office - waiting for that gentleman to finish writing and look up. He'd been waiting for ever so long now. The minutes clicked by, marked out by the huge grandfather clock in the corner. Some of the boys said they found this timepiece soothing; but it made Derek nervous and he fidgeted, adjusting his trousers surreptitiously. Derek's mind wandered back to this morning's history lesson:
“It was the custom in Ancient Rome for the men to place their right hand on their testicles when taking an oath. The modern term 'testimony' is derived from this tradition.”
He was beginning to feel uncomfortable -maybe he should have gone to the loo before he came? Too late for that now.
“Now Derek, you know why you're here, don't you?” barked Mr. Lawrence, as he finished his writing, screwed the top onto his fountain pen, knocked the papers he was working on neatly together, and placed them precisely on the desk before him; all without looking up.
Derek didn't like surprises, and this sudden jump into speech by the Headmaster made him wince. He definitely should have gone before facing this. He was in trouble. He was positive he could feel his bladder filling as he stood there. Then Mr Lawrence continued without pause:
“You are here... because, yet again, there have been complaints about your behaviour by members of my staff. Now, Derek, we talked this through thoroughly last week – did we not? And we came to the clear understanding that should you pass through my office once more this term, there would be serious consequences for you. And yet we find - here you are.”
A look of pained acceptance passed across Mr. Lawrence's features at this point. He was not happy, Derek could tell; Derek wasn't happy, either. And as for any agreements made last week – it was more a case of an imposed ultimatum; on him, by Mr. Lawrence.
“Sir... I'd like to say, that this time, it wasn't me.”
Silence spread like cream from an upturned pitcher. The clock ticked by. A bladder filled further. Perhaps if he crossed his legs? Derek gave it a go.
“You are telling me, that on this particular occasion, you are innocent of all charges and accusation made against you... completely?” The Head pinned Derek to the spot with a glare honed by years of interrogating scrubby schoolboys.
Derek nodded miserably; this was going to be a close run thing. How much could a bladder hold? Derek felt certain his had topped a gallon by now. At least. He tried swaying gently - from one foot to the other.
“Would you care to swear to that?” Derek was asked.
Mr Lawrence rose from his desk as he was speaking, and moved towards his bookcase. Here he pulled out a heavy, black leather bound book. Derek knew what it was; it was the book which was read from at assemblies. A really serious book. The Bible. It was placed on the front edge of the desk, near to Derek's left hand. Perhaps, he thought a little desperately, if he clenched his buttocks together? Maybe that would give him more control? Derek tried.
“Now, my boy I want you to repeat after me...” Mr Lawrence began.
Derek felt he needed even further reinforcement to prevent a spillage. Maybe if he grasped his willie and squeezed it to stop the liquid from dribbling out? The Headmaster observed this action with approval:
“That's right, boy, as in Ancient Rome, to prepare for the oath..Glad to see you remember your classics. Now repeat after me...”
Derek was mortified; had the Romans invented this as a way of stopping a pee, too? He wished Old Lawrence would hurry up, his balls were starting to ache now.
