Lou Bradshaw grinned as he hefted the riding crop. He was on his way to his second job as a probationary supervisor for criminals that had avoided prison by agreeing to community service. He loved his job, but wanted a prop to symbolize his authority. The riding crop would be perfect. The other stuff was safely stowed in the locked trunk, he couldn't be too careful with these types. They weren't all that different from the boys at Beckham Academy, he half expected to find a former student in today's batch of erstwhile prisoners - er, criminals - community servants. Yeah, that was the acceptable term, "Community Servants." But they knew what he meant, "Slave Labor." If only- Bradshaw's mind wandered. The sound of a horn beeping behind him broke him from his revelry. The light had changed. He drove to Cranston Park, and parked in the reserved parking. He put the permit on his dashboard and headed for the out building to meet his crew for the day.
"Bout time you got here, Bradshaw! It's nearly 1 PM!" shouted the morning supervisor Mike Jones.
"Well, they told me to takeover for you at 1 PM," Bradshaw said defensively.
"Oh, damn, bureaucrats, they know we can't leave them unattended, but they don't want to pay for lunch hour. I was off at 12 noon."
"Oh, sorry. They said you were here until 1," Bradshaw said.
"Did they? Well, I'll make sure they pay me for that extra hour."
"You do that," said Bradshaw knowing full well that the county would never pay it.
"Oh, watch out of Griffin, he's a real slacker, and he likes to talk trash. I tried separating him from his buddy Parker, but they get together and goof off the moment I go to check on the others," Jones warned.
"Thanks for the heads up, Jones."
"Oh, I should introduce you, or they'll try to say they're waiting for me to come back. Did that last time I put in a half day," Jones explained. He headed into the community room where a dozen youth and men were seated around with box lunches. "Oy! Listen up, you layabouts, I'm taking off now, but Mr. Bradshaw's in charge. So you obey him. Got that? All your's Mr. Bradshaw." He grabbed his jacket and thermos and left.
"Thank you, Mr. Jones," Lou Bradshaw said, and as the door closed behind him, he turned to the group, and said, "Now that Mr. Easy is gone, we can get some work done. I expect this park to be spotless, and we're going to work in teams. Pair up."
"We're still eating lunch!" protested one of the men in the orange vests.
"Well, lunchtime is over. Work time begins. Next time eat faster. Now wolf down your food," he ordered the man punctuating it with his new riding crop.
Scott Hayward instantly buried his face in his box devouring the remnants of his sandwich, napkin and apple core. He burped loudly. He started to feel itchy all over. He paired up with Paul "Piggy" Styles and grabbed his bag and stick with a nail on the end.
The men were all paired up, and Bradshaw assigned each pair to a specific section of the park handing them marked maps. When he got to Griffin and Parker, he asked them to wait to last. He had a special assignment for them.
"Great," muttered Griffin, "That Jonesy had it in for us, now he's sicced this guy on us. The lawyer said we'd just be sitting around for community service."
With the others dispatched, Bradshaw took the last map over to Griffin and Parker.
"Hey this has two sections for us to do, and the others each got one!" Griffin quickly protested punctuating his statement with hand gesture.
"Look mate, you're going to do your community service one way or another!" Bradshaw warned.
"Oh, yeah? Who's going to make me?" Griffin challenged.
"Stuff it!" ordered Bradshaw stabbing Griffin in the chest with the riding crop.
This could have ended badly for Bradshaw, but instead Griffin collapsed into a black plastic trash bag. Bradshaw and Parker stared for a minute at the gloves and shoes lying on the plastic. Bradshaw picked them up and stuffed them into his knapsack. He handed Parker the bag, "Now I expect him to be full in the next four hours. Get going, or you'll be a bag for someone else to stuff!" Bradshaw threatened waving the crop.
Parker grabbed the bag, the stick with the nail and map, and ran out of the community room toward the section of park marked on the map. He didn't know how it was possible, he just knew he didn't want to end up like Griffin.
As soon as he was gone, Bradshaw kissed the riding crop. "I knew this was just what I needed. Had no idea you were magic, but you must be. Thank you. Now let's see which of the other community servants need motivating," he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "And when school starts up, I can think of a few uses for you there too. Spare the rod and spoil the child."