“Yes ma’am,” was the only safe response. She touched my shoulder. “Stand up Ruby.” I stood, my shoes squeaked. “Step over the bench.” I obeyed. The far wall receded. I swayed; she steadied me. “Bend over and place your hands on the table.” As I did, Mrs. Cleanknockers spoke in a voice cold as an icicle, “Let this be a lesson to you all.” I felt the lash on my bottom, the fabric no protection against her fury. She whipped me hard for a minute, it seemed like an hour, then grabbed me by the collar and yanked me upright.
This link goes to The Bumhampton Chronicles category so you can catch up at any time.