The Hooligan
by
From the author of “The Dance”
A big thank you to Deeker for
posting this story, his wonderful site, and his time. I hope you’ll like the
third installment of “The Hooligan,” those of you still reading, at least. I
encourage you to send comments to my email. I’d love to hear what you think,
whether that is good, neutral, or negative. Comments can be sent to (
Part 3
When I pulled by car into the Argrow driveway an hour later, what must have been John’s car was no longer parked next to the family van. Getting out of my blue sedan, I walked up and knocked lightly on the door. A boy I barely recognized from the funeral opened the door and yelled, “Mom, the neighbor is here!” He looked just a little shorter than Nate, and I guessed he must be the middle son. I smiled and stepped in. Mia yelled down from upstairs. “Come on in David. The boys will be ready in a second.”
“Here, you can sit in the living room.”
I followed Nate’s younger brother and took a seat on the couch. He stood and stared at me.
“I’m David,” I said, smiling and sticking out my hand.
“Peter,” the boys replied, nervously shaking my hand. Peter had longer hair than Nate, almost down to his eyes. It was dark, nearly black. He looked just a little younger than Nate, and I guessed he was either twelve or thirteen, judging from Nate’s youthful stature.
“How old are you, Peter?”
“Ten.”
I raised my eyebrow in surprise. Nate and Peter looked a whole lot closer together than four years. Nate might just be a bit of an anomaly in the family. “So you must be going into, what? Fifth grade?”
Peter nodded his head.
“You excited?”
Peter shrugged. “I guess. I mean, its school. I don’t love it or nothing.”
I laughed. “I know what you mean.” Peter was dressed in cargo shorts and a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt.
“Led Zeppelin, huh? You’ve got good taste in music. Better than Nate’s,” I said with a smile.
Peter looked confused for a moment then realized I was talking about his shirt. He glanced down at it, “Oh, this. My dad gave it to me. Never really heard Led Zeppelin,” he said softly.
“Well, maybe I can show you some of their music. Best rock band of all time,” I said with a smile.
I heard a commotion and loud arguing coming from upstairs and I guessed Nate and his littlest brother were giving their mom a hard time getting ready. Nothing unusual about that with a house full of boys, I thought, thinking back to my childhood days. Peter was silently staring at me. Curious as I was about what he was thinking, I just let him look.
“So, you must be the good son?” I asked with a smile.
Peter smiled softly. “Nah, Nate and Paul, uh, are just running a little late.”
“So you’re saying you’re the trouble maker?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
He laughed and shoved his hands in his jean pockets, looking around the room nervously. “We’re all pretty bad.”
“Probably like my brothers and I were,” I said. “I know all the tricks.” I laughed, then added, “I bet you all are great kids.”
Just then, a loud stampede crashed down the stairs and Mia appeared in the living room, shoving the youngest son and Nate ahead of here.
“Here! They’re all yours!” She said, out of breath.
“Thanks,” I laughed. “You must be Paul?” I asked the youngest.
He nodded and looked away. He’d definitely been crying. His hair was cut short, about the same color as Nate’s. He was wearing blue jeans and a Sponge Bob t-shirt.
“Hey Nate,” I said to Nate, who gave me a meager smile and sat down heavily in the easy chair. Mia motioned me into the kitchen and I followed, giving the boys a wink.
Mia sat down exhausted at the table. She tapped the table. “Sit, sit. Whew, I thought I got a good night’s sleep, but now I’m ready to go back to bed. It’s what? 11?”
“Something like that. Well, you can take a nap, now,” I said.
“Yep.” She pushed a piece of paper at me. “Here is a little list of things I thought of. Feel free to add anything. I’ll reimburse you.”
I waved her off, “We’ll worry about that later.”
“Sure,” she said, then leaned in, whispering, “I’m afraid the boys are in a bit of a bad mood, at least Nate and Paul.” I nodded. “Both of them have been having accidents at night,” she continued softly. Wondering why she was telling me this personal information, I felt my brow furrow, but nodded again anyways. “For Paul, its nothing new, I’m keeping him in diapers today just to be safe. He’s got a backpack with a couple extras and some wipes in case he wets it. You don’t mind, do you?” I shook my head. Mia was sure being open with me. I suppose in situations like hers, you have to take advantage of whatever help you can get. “And Nate, well, this is new since Simon died. I know he’s struggling, so I guess I’m not surprised, but he was hiding it from me, hiding sheets and pajamas, and I got angry with him.” Mia obviously needed someone to talk to, and was jumping on the chance to open up a bit. “I don’t want to put it on you, but do you think you could pick up one of those plastic mattress covers? I’d hate for him to ruin the mattresses,” I nodded and leaned back. “No problem, Mia.” I pocketed the shopping list.
She smiled a weary smile. “Ok then. Let me see you off.” She got up and we both herded the boys out the door and to my car. “Oh, almost forgot,” Mia said outside, “You’ll need Paul’s car seat.” She opened the van door and started to unhook the seat which was in the middle passenger area.
“Here, let me do that,” I said, not wanting Mia to strain herself. She shot me a thankful glance and stepped back. I quickly unfastened the car seat and brought it to the backseat of my car. Expecting one of those booster seats which re-directs the actual seatbelt, I was surprised to see it was one with front-fastening restraints. Paul looked a bit big for one of these, but it was none of my business. Once securely in my backseat, I stepped back. “Ok, all ready,” I said with a smile. I wasn’t sure if Paul needed help getting set or not, and I decided to just wait and see. Nate claimed the front seat and Peter climbed in the back. Paul climbed up and sat in the car seat, then didn’t do anything. “You have to help him with the buckles,” Mia commented. I nodded and leaned back in the car. Pulling the front straps over Paul, I fastened them to the crotch and side straps. I could clearly see the outline of the diaper beneath Paul’s jeans as I tightened the straps and I wondered if I would have to change it on the outing. Once the straps were snuggly holding Paul in, I shut the door and got in the front. I waved at Mia.
“Good luck! Be good, boys!” She said, then walked to the front porch. She watched as I pulled out of the driveway and waved as we drove down the street. We all waved back.
The boys seemed to lighten up a bit on the drive. I found it hard to hold long conversations with them as all topics seemed inevitably to lead to their dad. It had to be tough, but I suppose it was good for them to think about it. Nate stayed in his sour mood, understandably, and didn’t talk much. We arrived at the mall quickly and in no time I was unbuckling Paul. I wondered how I would know if he wet his diaper or not and I figured he’d let me know.
After about an hour of school shopping, I decided it was time for a break. Both Nate and Peter had wanted to go to a videogame store, so I let them run off by themselves while I took Paul to a bookstore. As we were browsing books, I noticed Paul start to fidget.
I asked the obvious. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
He nodded. “But I want to get a book first.”
“The books will be here when we get back,” I offered.
He shook his head. “Here, let’s get this one,” he pulled a book off the shelf.
“Ok,” I said, “You sure you want this one?”
“Yeah.” He hugged the book close. “I like it.”
“Ok, let’s go check out then.” I led him up to the counter. “Give it to the lady,” I told him and he handed the book up to the checkout girl, who smiled kindly down at him. “Good choice,” she said. I looked down at Paul, who was fidgeting even more. “Try and hurry,” I said to the girl who gave me a knowing smile and a nod. The computer, though, didn’t want to cooperate. The girl scanned the book several times but it wouldn’t read. Paul’s hand had slipped down to his crotch and he was squeezing tightly. I wondered if that technique worked with a diaper on. He tugged on my pants and said, “I really gotta go, David!” But I didn’t want to let him go alone. If something happened to him… I hope that computer starts working soon, I thought, or Paul’s going to wet that diaper.
Finally the girl cheered. “It worked!” She said. I quickly handed her my card and after a minute, the book was purchased. Saying a quick thank you, I grabbed a desperate Paul by the hand and hurried out of the store.
“I don’t think I can make it,” Paul said as we half-jogged towards the men’s restroom.
“Yeah, you can, Paul, its right there,” I said, pointing at a restroom sign that was within sight. He shook his head. A moment later, I felt his hand tense up and he slowed to a halt. I didn’t have to ask what he was doing. He stared off into space, his bottom lip quivering. “My mom’s going to kill me,” he said softly. “No, she wont,” I replied, patting him on the shoulder. “You done?” I asked after a moment. He gave me a nod. I took him by the hand again and we finished the last bit to the restrooms. I spotted a family restroom and figured that was the best route.
“Good thing your mom had you wear one of those, huh?” I asked Paul as I locked the door behind us.
“I guess,” he mumbled.
I spotted a changing table and gambled that Paul didn’t weigh enough to break it. “C’mon, bud. Let’s get you changed,” I said, trying to sound more confident about the situation than I felt. Lifting Paul up on the table, I fastened the strap around his middle. “I honestly haven’t changed a diaper since I babysat in high school, so you’ll have to cut me some slack,” I said with a smile. Paul didn’t see me, he was staring intently at the cement wall. “How old are you?” I asked. “Six,” came the quiet reply. “That is a good age,” I said as I unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. Paul’s diaper, which looked like a baby diaper with childish print on the front, was soaked. It had turned a light yellow color and was warm and squishy to the touch. I untapped it and pulled the diaper out from under Paul’s bottom. His body shivered as the cool air hit his damp genitals. I felt a little out of place diapering a boy older than two years old, but it was obviously a needed precaution. Pulling out the wipes, I cleaned his diapered area thoroughly then slipped a fresh diaper under him. After I adjusted its position a bit, I brought up the diaper snugly against Paul’s crotch and taped it on. I patted his leg. “How does it feel?” Paul shrugged, “Fine.” I unbuckled Paul and gently set him on the ground. “I’d say I did a pretty darn good job for having not done that in over twenty years.”
Paul put back on his pants as I disposed of the used diaper. I washed my hands and soon we were back out into the mall. I took Paul by the hand. “You did good, Paul. You acted real grown up about the whole thing,” I said. I could see the trace of a small smile dance across Paul’s face. “Thanks,” he replied softly. “Thanks for helping me out.” I patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s go find your brothers, huh?”
I decided Peter and Nate didn’t need to know about Paul’s wetting episode and kept quiet about it. They had settled on a videogame and I purchased it for them as a reward for their good behavior. After we finished school shopping, each of the boys was loaded down with bags. I had purchased all of the items Mia had requested except one: the plastic sheet for Nate’s bed. I figured one of the main department stores would be sure to carry one. After searching for a couple of minutes, though, I couldn’t find any, so I approached a nice looking young lady in the linens and bedding section.
The girl, who appeared to be in high school, smiled as we neared. “Can I help you?” She had a soft southern accent. Out of place for our area.
“Sure, do you guys carry, ya know, plastic sheets?” I asked, making the shape of a mattress with my hands for some reason.
She nodded. “Sure, like waterproof mattress protectors? For bed wettin’?”
“Yes, those,” I affirmed.
“Just over here,” she said, motioning for us to follow. I glanced at Nate and noticed he was staring steadily at the ground. We arrived at the proper section and sure enough there was a selection of “waterproof mattress protectors,” must be the technical name. Predictably, there were models for all different sizes of beds.
“What size ya’ll need?” the girl asked.
I didn’t know and as much as I wanted to avoid any direct embarrassment for Nate, he was the only one who did know. “How big is your bed, Nate,” I asked. He kicked at the ground. “I dunno,” he mumbled, “double, I guess.” I looked back at the girl who was smiling down at Nate. “Double,” I said.
“Sure,” said the girl, pulling off the preferred size. “Ya’ll buying anything else, or will this be it?”
“That’s it, thank you,” I replied.
“Well, I can just help ya’ll right over here.” She walked back to the register and rung us up. On our way back to the car, I decided to spare Nate further embarrassment and carried the item myself. Nate didn’t say a word, staring at the ground, but I could tell his face was beat red.
As I strapped Paul back into his car seat, I asked if he was doing alright, nodding my head at his diapered area. He nodded, half asleep. He’d be out before we got home, I guessed. Once all the bags were in the car and all the boys loaded, I started the car and pulled out of the parking spot. Glancing in the rearview mirror as we exited the parking lot, I could see that Paul was already sleeping. He looked a little too big to be in a front-fastening car seat, but it still fit him. The thought of a six year old diapered and in a car seat made me smile for some odd reason. No hurry to make ‘em grow up, I thought.
I got Nate talking about football, which he knew a ton about, and with the NFL season just recently started, he was all sorts of excited. Once I got him talking, I could tell we would have no trouble filling up the ride home. He was a die-hard Seahawks fan and apparently, because of our weak division, we had a great chance of making the playoffs even though the team was struggling.
When we pulled into the driveway the boys got out, except for Paul who was still fast asleep. I directed Nate and Peter to help with the bags while I unbuckled Paul and lifted him out of the car. He mumbled nonsense and slung his arms around my neck. What the heck, I thought, I could carry him in. So I repositioned him, my arm firmly around his diapered bottom, and walked to the house. Mia opened the door with a smile. I put a finger to my mouth and motioned toward Paul. She nodded. “Can you put him up in his room?” She whispered. I gave her a nod. “Second door on your right, up the stairs.” I nodded again, and made my way up the stairs as I heard the boys set down the bags in the kitchen. The room, which was messy, definitely belonging to boys, had two beds in it. I felt each and guessed the one that made a crinkling noise must be Paul’s. I gently laid him down and after taking off his shoes, pulled the covers over him. He rolled over and didn’t say a word.
Back downstairs, Mia was sifting through all the supplies. “This is great, David. Thank you so much.”
“No problem. The boys were perfect.” I gave a wink at the boys.
“David bought us a videogame,” Peter said. Nate nodded.
“Oh David, you didn’t have to,” Mia said.
I shrugged.
“Did you boys say thank you?” Mia asked.
“Thank you!” Both boys said at once. I laughed and told them they were welcome, then added “Your voices sound exactly the same,” for some reason.
“Yep,” Mia said with a smile. “Though not for long.” She gave Nate a kiss on the head and gentle hug. He groaned loudly, “Mom!” I couldn’t help but laugh. Mia spotted the plastic sheet and pulled it out. “Great,” she said and handed it to Nate. “Can you go see if it fits?” He blushed heavily and grabbing the package, dashed out of the room. Peter went to go play their new game and I was left with Mia in the kitchen.
“Any problems with Paul?”
I shook my head, then realized what she was referring to. “Well, a bit. He got a little too excited about the bookstore and didn’t give himself enough time to make it to the restrooms.”
Mia shook her head, “Sounds like something he’d do. Did you change him?”
“Yeah. First diaper I’ve changed in a long time. He was real good about the whole thing. Though I think it definitely could have been avoided had I made him go directly to the bathroom. He just wanted to buy the book first, you know?”
“Well, it’s his responsibility to know when to go to the restroom,” Mia said, “not yours. He needs to learn.” I nodded in agreement. “The boys really seem to like you,” Mia said.
“They’re great boys,” I replied. “Listen, I’ll let ya’ll get back to your day. Thanks for letting me borrow them.”
“Anytime,” Mia laughed.
I left the Argrows feeling good. Fresh, happy, and wanted.
****************
Simon knelt by John, who was laying in the sand, whimpering. John had dropped his clothes on the ground when he fell, and it didn’t dawn on Simon to finish the job and soak them in the creek. “You ok?” Simon asked.
John was breathing heavily. “That…hurt…” he wheezed. “I’ll bet,” replied Simon.
Alex was staring at the returning eighth graders. “We don’t really have anyplace to run,” he commented. Simon looked up slowly and nodded. Kneeling next to John, he saw little chance for escape. It wasn’t long before the approaching mob arrived.
“Well, look at this, ya’ll got free,” the leader, proudly brandishing his slingshot, said loudly. “Fine, it saves us the trouble.” He paused and looked at each of the boys. “I’m more curious to know why,” he gestured at John who was still lying vulnerably on the ground, “you are just in your underpants. And more importantly, why they are slightly yellow and wet.”
Alex groaned audibly. The leader bent and gingerly picked up John’s soaked pants. He sniffed them and grimaced. “Did baby wet his pants?” he asked sarcastically.
“But I was tied up, I couldn’t help it,” John replied weakly in defense.
One of the boys mimicked his words and kicked dirt at John. Simon stood up. “Now you guys leave him alone. I think you already hurt him enough,” Simon said strongly, pointing to the fierce red welt that had risen on John’s stomach.
“Yeah, that was a nice shot, Ray,” one of the other boys commented.
The leader, who apparently was named Ray, ignored the comment and instead asked, “Were you boys trying to escape?” They all stayed silent. Ray seemed to be pondering what his gang should do. Apparently he was becoming bored with the whole situation or realized that he was dancing on the line of getting into serious trouble, because he said, “Well, I think you get the idea of what we can do to you if you cause us any more grief. You all will stay out of our canyon for the rest of camp. Is that understood?” The three boys didn’t reply and just stared at the ground. Ray threw the pants at John. “Put them on.”
John looked up, but didn’t move. Ray loaded his slingshot with a pebble. “You heard me, put them on.” John slowly stood up and pulled on the soaked pants over his wet underwear. Without being asked, he also put on his shirt. “Good,” said Ray, “Now, march!” He motioned with his slingshot and the rest of the gang pushed the boys out in front with their sticks and the whole entourage made its way along the creek.
To Simon’s surprise, they arrived at a hidden pathway that wound its way through the rocks and up to the top of the canyon walls. Simon shook his head in disbelief. “How’d we miss this,” he whispered to Alex, who just shrugged. He had been itching his mosquito bites with his free hands and he looked anything but comfortable.
Once at the top, the aggressors stayed behind the three captives until they were well into camp. An air of unknown settled upon the three. They could feel freedom and an end to the hellish ordeal but it was still too soon to believe it was over. Already, many other boys had noticed the condition of John’s pants and had pointed and laughed. Simon was wondering where all the counselors were when they needed them. John was near tears, but he kept walking with his head held high. Simon felt pride sneak up on him in the form of a knot in his throat, at once feeling sorry for John and admiring his demeanor.
“Ok, we’ll leave you here,” Ray said once they were in the middle of the camp. Simon felt a wave of relief. “You should go change your pants, baby. We are far from done with you three,” Ray made a threatening poke at them all once last time with his prized slingshot, then sauntered away, his cronies close in tow.
“I thought those weren’t allowed at camp,” Alex said.
“What, Ray or the slingshot?” Simon replied.
“Both.”
Simon nodded. He put his arm around John. “C’mon buddy. I’ll go with you.” Alex took a step in the other direction. “I’m going to the nurse’s station for somethin’ to stop the itchin’,” he commented. “See ya at dinner, then?” Simon asked. Alex, who had already started walking away, waved his hand in recognition.
Simon kept his arm around John, noticing that he was shaking with either rage, embarrassment, or fear. Probably a combination of the three. Simon gave John’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and directed him towards his cabin. “God, those guys are assholes, huh?” John nodded. Simon was starting to feel something like big-brotherly love for John, who, being smaller and less mature, seemed like a younger sibling. They stayed silent until they reached John’s cabin. Luckily, only a few more campers saw the duo, and no one took special notice of the wetness of John’s pants.
When they reached the entrance to John’s cabin, he paused. “You aren’t supposed to come in here.”
“What? Why not?” Simon asked, confused.
“Its, ah, I dunno, against the rules.” John was looking around nervously.
“But why?” Simon asked slowly.
John looked at Simon for a moment. “Listen, you’ve been real nice to me so I want to trust you, but you have to promise you will not tell anyone else, I mean it,” John said seriously. Simon looked John in the eye. “You can trust me, man, come on.” John nodded, then finally opened the door and let Simon in.
Simon looked around and noticed nothing particularly special about the cabin, which was empty of any other campers. The beds were in the same set up, bunk beds along each wall. The only thing unique was the cabin had its own bathroom. All the other boys had to share a communal bath which, incidentally, was disgusting. Simon, jealous of the private bathroom, set his eyes on the open door and walked toward it. “Oh, thank God, I have to go so bad.” John let out a sudden, “Hey-,” seemingly to stop Simon, who paused and looked back. “Oh, whatever, go ahead,” John said, turning towards his bag and pulling out some new jeans and underwear.
Simon shrugged and went into the bathroom. As he was pissing, he looked around and saw that cupboards lined the walls. Out of curiosity he pulled one open and almost started urinating on the walls in surprise. Then he realized why John had been hesitant to let him in the cabin, why he hadn’t wanted him to go into the bathroom, and why he was sleeping in a separate cabin altogether. Stacks of cloth diapers, plastic pants, and diapering supplies filled the cabinet. He nodded in realization and flushed the toilet. Simon quietly closed the door to the cabinet and walked back into the main room.
John, who was just slipping on dry jeans, looked up, an inquisitive look on his face. Simon just smiled and took a seat on the bed, a noticeable crinkling sound emitting from the mattress. “You don’t have to worry about me, man,” Simon said softly, “I won’t tell anyone.” John looked relieved and finished getting dressed before he sat down next to Simon on the bed. “Thanks,” he finally replied.
“So do you have to wear those?” Simon asked, pointing towards the bathroom.
“Yeah, just at night,” John replied softly.
“I’m sorry,” Simon said empathetically.
John shrugged. “Used to it, you know? What was bad was…” He trailed off.
“What?” Simon prodded, curiosity getting the best of him.
“Wearing them on the ride up,” John said quickly.
Simon laughed lightly, but in a non-threatening way. “Yeah, that must have been hard. No wonder you were so quiet.” John nodded, smiling and feeling relieved that Simon hadn’t minded. “Did you use them on the ride?” Simon asked suddenly. John shook his head. “Almost. I had to really go there at the end, but managed to wait. My mom always makes me wear them on rides incase I fall asleep. Actually, I’m usually thankful for them on long rides. Sometimes I can’t hold on long enough for a rest stop. Wetting my pants on the first day of camp, before we even got there, would’ve been really bad, so I let my mom put them on. They probably would have leaked, though, ‘cause she only put on one so that they wouldn’t show much. I usually wear more at night.”
“I never noticed a thing,” Simon said. “Good thing you didn’t. If you had pissed in the car, Alex would have never let you let it down.”
“Well, now I’ve wet my pants in front of him.”
“Ah, he won’t bug you about that, trust me.”
“What about the rest of camp,” John asked suddenly. “Half of them probably know by now that I wet my pants.”
Simon put his arm around John and hugged him slightly. “Well, nothing much we can do about that now, huh. I’ll stick by you, don’t worry.”
“Hey thanks man. You’re really nice, you know that?” John said, patting Simon on the back. Simon quickly put John in a headlock and gave him a noogie. John cried out. “No always!” Simon laughed, moving to tickling John under the arms. John writhed about, trying to get free, but the smaller boy was helplessly stuck in Simon’s firm grip. “Stop it! Stop it!” John cried, “You want me to wet my pants again?”
Suddenly, the door burst open and one of the counselors rushed in. “What’s going on in here,” he shouted. Simon pulled back quickly and so did John. “Just playing,” Simon said calmly. The counselor looked at John, “You ok, John?”
“Sure,” John replied smiling, “but thanks.”
“Hey, I heard,” the counselor started, then stopped, looking at Simon.
“It’s ok,” John said, “don’t worry about him.”
“Ok, cool.” The counselor looked to be about eighteen or so, probably just out of high school. “I heard you had an accident. Just wanted to make sure you were ok, so I came looking for you.”
John nodded. “Yeah, thanks. I’m fine though.”
Simon hoped John wouldn’t talk about the eighth graders. It was not in their best interest for them to get in trouble. Thankfully, John remained mum.
The counselor eyed Simon. Feeling
awkward, Simon stuck out his hand. “I’m Simon. I go to school with John back in
“I’m Nicholas,” the counselor said with an easy smile. “Listen, obviously John doesn’t mind you being in here, but the other boys might not agree. Now that you’ve changed,” Nicholas said looking at John, “why don’t you and Simon head over to his cabin or somewhere else, ok?”
“Sure Nick,” John said, hopping up and grabbing Simon’s arm, “Let’s go.” Both boys headed out the door. “See you guys later,” Nicholas called after them.
Once they were alone in the forest, walking down one of the many trails, Simon said, “He’s nice.”
“Yeah, Nick is cool.”
Curiosity started to get the best of Simon and he decided to start asking questions. “So who changes you, you know, if you wake up wet?”
“We’ve got two counselors staying with us. Nick and another one named Kurt. Nick is actually in nursing school and Kurt’s training to be a doctor for kids.”
“Pediatric, you mean,” Simon said.
“Peda- yeah, whatever. Anyways, they are really good, better than my mom, almost.”
“So how long have you wet the bed?”
John shrugged. “Forever. I don’t know, just never stopped, I guess. My parents don’t make a big deal about it. I’ve never slept over anywhere, certainly never gone on any camps, this is the first time. Only because they have this, ah, special arrangement. I was still scared though. My parents had to convince me to come.”
“Well, happy you did,” Simon said, patting John on the shoulder. John smiled.
“Thanks man. I was worried you guys wouldn’t understand, but I’m glad you’re cool.”
“So, what does it feel like?”
“What, the diapers?”
“Yeah, I mean, that’s gotta be weird, ya know?”
“Nah, it ain’t bad. It’s actually kinda nice sometimes, right after you wet them at least, it’s all warm.”
“Ah!” Simon cried, laughing. “That’s so gross. Plus, I thought you wet the bed, as in you are asleep. How would you know what it feels like right after you piss?”
John blushed and giggled. “Well, fine, I won’t lie. Sometimes I’m not asleep, just lazy and besides, like I said, it feels good.”
Simon laughed harder. “Oh man, you’re lucky I’m such a good friend ‘cause this would be great to tell someone else.”
John punched Simon on the arm, “You promised!”
They walked for a bit as Simon’s laughter calmed down. “I did, don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me, man,” Simon said softly. “Doesn’t mean you’re not weird, though,” he added with a smile.
“Well, you don’t know, do you? You’ve never tried it. Being a baby doesn’t count ‘cause you can’t remember that. So don’t hate on it until you’ve tried it.”
“Are you daring me?” Simon said.
John shrugged, not able to hide the smile that was growing on his face. “Sure, yeah, I’m daring you! I dare you to wear a diaper and wet it,” John said confidently. Simon was laughing again. “Then, if you still hate it, you can call me weird.”
“Fine, you’re on,” Simon said.
“Really?!” John asked, surprised and unbelieving.
“Really.” Simon replied. “I don’t know why, I think you’ve made me go crazy.”
“Fine, tomorrow, we’ll sneak some out.”
“You’re on,” Simon said, nervously shaking the hand that John, who had a goofy smile on his face, had thrust out.
The dinner bell rang loud and clear and both boys turned towards the mess hall. As they entered the old and musty log building and got in line for food, a few heads turned towards John. A wave of whispering and snickering broke out throughout the room. The counselors quickly silenced it, but not before John’s face was a deep crimson. Simon put his hand on John’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze of support. They quickly got their food and sat down.
A second later, Alex joined them. Simon had to laugh. Alex’s face, neck, and arms were covered with a crusty pink cream, under which hundreds of red dots could be made out.
“How are you holding up?” Simon asked with a smile. Alex glared at him and dug into his food. “Hey, just trying to be nice,” Simon said, “Those bites look nasty.” Alex nodded with a mouthful of lasagna. “Bu dith ith gooth,” he said. “Ew, disgusting!” John exclaimed, making a face.
“Hey, why did you guys disappear this afternoon?” A new voice asked.
Simon looked over and saw that his teammate, whom he had abandoned during the pinecone war earlier, had sat down. “Oh, hey man, sorry about that. We got attacked by some eighth graders.”
“Really?!” The boy said, interested.
Simon nodded. He didn’t mind telling another camper about the incident as long as no adults were around.
“Wait, is that why you wet your pants?” The boy asked quietly to John. Simon glared at the boy, but John just nodded nonchalantly. “Yeah, I heard about that. Sorry about that, man,” the boy continued. Deciding that the boy was not being malicious, Simon dived into his food. The day’s bizarre proceedings had left him starving.
The night’s activity was a campfire, and it seemed the camp had temporarily forgiven John’s toddler-esque faux pas as no one made further mention of the event. That night when they split ways on their way to bed, Simon gave John a slap on the back. “Enjoy, weirdo,” he whispered into John’s ear. “Tomorrow,” John replied, pointing at Simon with his flashlight as he walked away, “tomorrow.” Simon laughed.
“What’s tomorrow?” Alex asked, confused.
“Nothin’ man, don’t worry about it,” Simon said as they walked toward their cabin, their flashlights dancing amongst the shadowy trees. The smoke from the large campfire had drifted and filled the forest with a pungent smelling fog: the campfire smell that is so unique, memorable, and good. The beams of flashlights illuminated the smoke in dozens of dueling shafts of light.
“I hate secrets,” Alex grumbled.
“Well, it’s just a dare, don’t worry about it,” Simon said, knowing Alex loved dares, an idea forming in his mind. As funny as it would be for Simon to wear a diaper, it would be so much more so for tough guy Alex.
“A what? A dare? I want in.”
“Well, that is up to John, it’s his and he made me promise to keep it a secret. You’ll have to ask him tomorrow.”
“Tell me now, tell me now,” Alex pleaded. Simon just shook his head. They had reached their cabin and Simon went right in, stripped to his underwear, and climbed into his sleeping bag.
“Tell me!” Alex said forcefully.
Simon turned over and looked up at Alex. “Promise to keep your mouth shut.”
“I promise,” Alex said.
“Good, ‘cause I want some sleep,” Simon said, closing his eyes.
“What? Now tell me!” Alex whined.
Simon glared up at Alex. “You just promised to keep your mouth shut. Why are you talking?”
“No, I promised…” Alex trailed off, then groaned loudly. “Ug! You are so impossible!”
“Alex Fox! In bed!” the counselor said loudly.
“Tomorrow,” Simon whispered with a small smile. Alex stomped his foot in frustration, but obeyed the counselor and climbed into his bunk which was above Simon’s. Simon lay in bed wondering if John was being diapered right then. Sleep quickly overtook his thoughts, though. The day had been long and eventful: adventurous, scary, fun, and peculiar all at the same time.
********************
My house is right near a public grade school, and when school starts up around the first week of September, a new energy exists in the neighborhood as the voices of playing children fill the air. Of course, most of them walk to school, and groups of youth parade in front of my house around 8:45 in the morning, and again at 3:00 in the afternoon. On the first day of school, I happened to be up in time, so I camped out on my front porch with a cup of coffee and welcomed the students to the first day of school with friendly waves. Sure enough, after a few minutes, Peter and Paul came walking by. I called to them, and they detoured over to my front porch.
“You guys all ready for the first day of school?” I asked with a smile. They nodded. “Nervous?”
“A little,” Peter answered. “Never gone to school before.”
“Fifth grade will be easy for you. Its first, right Paul?”
“Yeah,” Paul answered.
“You guys will do great. Come by on the way home, I’ll have something for you, ok?” They nodded. “Ok, get going before you are late. Have fun!”
“Bye,” the boys said as they walked down the driveway.
I watched them until they disappeared into the mix of children. I realized I felt nervous for them. I hoped Paul would be sure to make it the bathroom on time. That would be embarrassing to start school with a pant’s wetting episode. I knew Peter would do great. He was bright, quiet, likable. He’d be fine. I glanced at my watch and realized Nate had already been at school for an hour. High school started an hour before elementary and middle. I just hoped he’d stay away from those trouble makers. The high school years can go many ways, both good and bad, and unfortunately they had far reaching consequences for the rest of his life. I didn’t want him to start out on the wrong foot. But, there was nothing I could do about it for the moment. He had to make the right decisions.
Once the bell had rung, which you could hear from my house, and the children safely tucked away in little desks to have their minds formed in the current mold society had set out as the most sure way to produce productive members, I pulled out a cigarette and meditated. Mr. Taylor’s words came back to me again. It was good advice, regardless of why he said it, I had to admit that. Of course I wanted to do what was best for the boys. I decided that he wasn’t suggesting the worst. Mr. Taylor knew me better than that. But perhaps he was suggesting that I not intrude, not pursue my own interests, namely the curing of my loneliness, by butting my way into the Argrow situation. That would be selfish. But was he suggesting that I do nothing? Surely not. Are all actions inherently selfish? Even the most generous of acts rooted in a desire to dissolve some personal need? That must have been what Mr. Taylor was hinting at. Of course, that perspective of ethical philosophy is hard to recon with. It’s nearly impossible to disprove, if you think about it, but highly undesirable to approve. I tended to give it credence on most actions, but on a few, I believed a true kind heart existed. Was I selfish, then? Yes, I had to answer, but it seemed there was more to the situation than that oversimplification. How could I explain the feeling of nervousness for the boys this morning? Was that selfish? It seemed I was inserting myself into their family as a surrogate father and perhaps this was not necessary nor wanted. Mr. Taylor was suggesting that I move with slow caution. Good advice, but Mia obviously did not want to go through this alone. That was clear with her trust in me on the shopping trip. To change the diaper of her six year old son? And she had just met me, at least formally, that morning. That was trust. Sure, the extreme circumstances warranted extreme actions, or extreme trust, but that, at least to me, was a sign she was looking for help and willing to take it.
I extinguished the cigarette and went inside.
That afternoon, the Peter and Paul returned to my house and I gave them each a candy bar. But after that, I didn’t see much of the Argrows for a couple of weeks. I caught the younger boys a couple of times in the morning, and they assured me all was well, or as well as it could be at home. But I hadn’t seen Nate, and I was worried. However, I held myself back from going over, and instead vented my worry on Mr. Taylor, who patiently listened, and again reiterated his advice to give them room. It had now been nearly a month since the suicide of Simon Argrow. I noticed John’s car in their driveway a couple of times, but it was clear he wasn’t there for constant help. I have to admit, I was a little bit curious as to what he did there, but I knew that was far from my business. Not sure how to proceed with the situation, I settled into my old routine, focusing on my boats, music, and drinking far too much. My one vice I indulged in too much, and I knew it. But bars had people and it was people I was craving. Feeling lost and lacking direction to a degree I hadn’t felt since my youth, I frequented the bars more and more often.
However, one night, as September was drawing to a close, I stayed home. I read, played the piano, and drank a lot of tea. As I was about to call it an early night, at about eight in the evening, I heard a nock at the door. I opened it quickly, happy to know someone out there wanted to talk to me, and found Mia standing on the porch. She looked somewhat disheveled and stressed.
“Come in, Mia,” I said with an easy smile.
“Sorry to bother you, David,” She said quickly, walking into my house, “but something came up.”