By Danny
February 28, 2004 Saturday
Mom had come in with a tray of lunch for me. She’d asked if I was feeling better and I told her I was. I didn’t try to make small talk with her then; I was too scared that the punishment that I knew was coming would come sooner rather than later. Mom left me to eat my grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup and when I was done I went back to staring at the ceiling and thinking. I don’t even remember Mom coming back in to take the tray away.
Eventually Jamie spoke up again, “Are you ever going to talk to me again?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Was my answer, which was true, and it seemed to placate him for the time being. I guess he took some comfort in the fact that I’d not erupted on him; at least not yet and that I was still thinking.
I wanted so desperately not to reignite the war that had lived between the two of us for as long as we both could remember. Our cease-fire was so young and vulnerable that I was scared to do or say anything without devoting a great deal of thought to it first.
On the other hand, I was feeling betrayed, violated even. My deepest, most precious and at times, darkest thoughts were written within the pages of my notebook. I’d always assumed that everyone, Jamie included, knew that it was something that was not to be touched. Still, whenever Jamie was over I wouldn’t just leave it laying around for him to casually pick up. Having someone inside my thoughts, my mind, my very being, was at the least, unnerving and at the most, mental rape.
When Dad came in to ask if I wanted to have dinner in bed again tonight, I answered with, “I want to eat with everyone.” He helped me out of bed and instead of using Jamie as my crutch this time, I used Dad’s arm, even though I didn’t really need to. I was feeling well enough now, but I liked the feeling of leaning on, and holding on to someone.
Dinner was very awkward. Though I’d felt rested and well enough to join the family at the table, I didn’t enjoy it. The atmosphere was heavy and strained. Everyone tried to make small talk, but every conversation that was started soon fizzled out again.
It was Jamie that turned things around at the table, and maybe a little within my mind and heart as well. Mom’s mashed potatoes had come out thicker than they normally did. Actually, they could have been used as mortar for building a castle wall, but none of us were about to say anything disapproving to her.
Jamie had been trying to scoop out a fork full of potatoes from his plate and wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing. I’ve no idea why I was watching him eat, but I was just then, and when his fork didn’t come out of his potatoes easily he applied more force. Instead of coming out with a fork full of mashed spuds, the entire mound came off his plate, flew through the air, and landed directly on Dad’s shirt!
No one laughed; no one breathed. We sat, stunned into silence, waiting to see what Dad was going to say or do. Dad quietly laid his fork on his plate, pulled his napkin from his lap, and began wiping the potatoes from his shirt. It was maybe ten or fifteen seconds before Dad’s entire body started to shake, then quake. He lifted his head and the three of us, Jamie, Mom, and I, saw that he was having a hysterical fit of laughter. Mom started laughing into her napkin, Jamie had his face buried in his hands, and I was slowly falling out of my chair seeing as how I was laughing so hard.
The stresses of the day had stretched us all to our breaking points, and this one small accident by Jamie was the one thing we all needed to be able to release our nervous energies. Jamie kept trying to speak, but he just couldn’t stop laughing. Dad had leaned forward twice and gave Jamie a jovial whack to the back of his head, which just made it harder for Jamie to stop laughing. I was laughing so hard that I’d wrapped my arms around my chest to cradle my ribs as I flooded my diaper. Man, was I glad to have been wearing one just then.
The mood at the table was so much better after that, and when everyone, for the most part, had stopped laughing (though there were occasional bouts of giggles by each of us) Jamie brought up the subject of my birthday party tomorrow.
Honestly, even though this year was an important year to me, so much had been happening that the idea of the party had not really sunk in like I expected it should have. Also, one of the things I had been thinking about earlier, while I was lying on my bed, was that given the events of the day today, Mom and Dad would probably cancel my birthday altogether. However, when Mom started telling us everything she’d done to prepare for tomorrow’s party, I knew she’d never cancel it, and I started to get really excited.
Jamie looked across the table, smiling and said, “Tell them about your birthday dream!” He’d said it before he had realized that my dream was not something I had told him about, but was something he’d read in my journal writings. His eyes went wide as the revelation of what he’d just said hit him.
Now I could have reacted several different ways, almost all of which would not have been good at all, but I guess I’d made my decision about Jamie’s incursion into my confidential thoughts and I decided to forgive him and let him off the hook.
I swallowed my mouth full of food before I said, “Okay!” and then proceeded to tell Mom and Dad about how I had dreamt about Mr. Freeman coming to my birthday party dressed as a clown and about everyone that came, including the boys from the hospital. I did however, keep the end of my dream, about Peter shooting and killing everyone, to myself. Jamie gave me a knowing glance across the table. I returned his gaze and he knew I didn’t want to share the rest.
Dad laughed with a mouthful of food, slammed his hand on the table, and announced, “I’d pay good money to see Andy Freeman dressed as a clown. I laughed too.
We finished dinner and instead of Jamie and I disappearing back to our room, we started helping Mom clear the table without being asked. Even Dad pitched in and helped. I stood at the tableside so that I didn’t have to move around much and could just hand the things to everyone else. We had the table cleared off, the dishes washed, and all the leftover food put away in the refrigerator within a few minutes. Jamie and I were just about to leave the kitchen with Mom announced, “Oh! I forgot about the pudding!”
“What pudding?” Jamie asked.
“I made Tapioca pudding for desert!” Mom said, putting her hands on her hips in disgust.
Dad laughed again, kissed Mom on the cheek, and said, “It’ll make a nice evening snack for the boys!”
“Yeah I’m pretty full anyway!” I said.
“Ok!” Mom said, sounding as though she were surrendering.
Jamie once again assumed his position as my crutch, but I hesitated for a second and then said, “I want to try it on my own.”
“Simon!” Dad called, using his Dad voice.
“What?” I said a little too strong, and I got one of those jovial whacks to the back of my head for it.
“Just because you are feeling better at this moment, don’t go over-doing it again.” he warned and I took hold of Jamie’s shoulders as he led me back down the hallway. He helped me sit down at my desk so that I could boot up my computer and check my email before he left to go use the bathroom. He was gone quite a good while and I figured he must be going number two to be gone that long.
I had about two dozen emails but most of them were junk mail. However, I did have three emails that I’d not expected to get. There was one from Lowell, one from Mike, and to my surprise, one from Jasper. I chose to read Jasper’s first.
Simon,
The worst thing ever has happened. I tried to call you earlier today but I just got the machine and I didn’t want to leave a message on there. Please call me. I need to talk with someone!
I knew several things from reading between the lines of Jasper’s email. He wanted to tell me about Bull being arrested, but also he did not know that I was the one that had turned his brother, as well as the other Panthers, into the police.
I was torn between going on to read Mike and Lowell’s emails, and going to the kitchen to call Jasper, but I realized that aside from telling Jasper that I was the one that called the police, I wouldn’t know what else to say to him. So I closed Jaspers email and opened Mike’s next.
Simon,
I just got off the phone with Jasper and he said he emailed you cause he couldn’t reach you on the phone so I thought I would too. Tate has been arrested and Mom has gone to try to get him out of jail. I don’t know why Tate is in jail but Jasper says he heard that they robbed someone! My next-door neighbor is here watching my sister and me while Mom is gone.
I hope you get this soon and either call or write back right away. I will keep checking to see if you wrote back.
About halfway through reading Mike’s email Jamie came back into the room without his shirt on and only wearing his pants. “What?” he said when he saw the disturbed look on my face. I waved him over to the computer and let him read Mike’s email and then Jaspers as well.
“Holy fricken chicken!” Jasper said, and for half a second I actually thought he was going to cuss for real. “They don’t know it was you?” he added, running both hands through his hair and giving me a clear view of his armpit.
“Tell me about it!” I said, “Let’s see what this one from Lowell says.” I said, closing the one email and opening the next.
Hi Simon – Have you been watching the news? My Mom is so happy that they have caught the ones that have been robbing all the stores. They have not said their names on TV yet, but I talked with Jasper and I already know that it was his brother Bull and probably Bull’s friends too. They said on the news that one of them was shot by the police and that a police officer was shot too and that they both are in the hospital.
I just got another email from Jasper so I am going to send this and I will try again later to write to you.
“Whoa!” Jamie exclaimed. He’d leaned over and placed an arm around the back of my neck and was resting it on my shoulders while he read Lowell’s email to me.
Jamie stopped and pulled away from me, “What’s the matter?” he asked when he realized I was beginning to cry.
“I’m going to lose all my friends.” I sniffled.
“You don’t know that.” Jamie said, replacing his hand on the back of my neck and giving me a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
“When they find out that I was the one that blew the whistle on them . . .” I didn’t get to finish because Jamie interrupted me.
“Blew the whistle? Man you have been watching too many old gangster movies!” Jamie said, giving my neck a light shake. He made me laugh a little.
In a continued effort to comfort me, Jamie started talking with a bad mobster-style accent, “I’m telling you! You hear me telling you? If d’ey go and mess wit’ my baby brother . . .” he paused to giggle at his baby brother comment, “If d’ey mess wit’ my baby brother, I’z gunna make ‘em wish d’ey was never born. Ya see? I’z will hit d’em so hard d’ey will wish d’ey had a twin just to take half the beat'n! Ya see? Ya see? Ya see?”
Jamie had me laughing despite my uncertainties. “Nobody messes wit’ da family! Nobody!”
I closed out of my email and shut down my computer, but I stayed at my desk as Jamie sat over on the corner of his bed. “So do you hate me?” he asked.
I knew why he was asking it and I looked up at the ceiling while rubbing my chin as if I was deep in thought.
“SIMON!” he jokingly growled impatiently.
“Promise me you won’t ever, ever, ever read my stuff again?” I insisted while trying to look mean.
Jamie had the wisdom to appear quite remorseful. “I promise!”
“Not good enough!” I announced to him.
He sighed, smiled, and raised his left hand while covering his heart with his right hand. “I do hereby swear that I will never ever, ever, ever, read what Simon writes in his book! And if I do, may I be hit with a shoe, and die till I’m dead!”
Jamie dropped his hands back down and asked, “How’s that?”
I gave a half smile, “Not good enough!”
“Gee-whiz, What do you want then?” Jamie pleaded.
“I want a blood oath!” I said with raised eyebrows.
Jamie was stunned for only a split second before he nervously said, “Uh, what do you mean?”
“I mean you have to sign, IN BLOOD that you will never look in my book again, and if you do you will be cursed forever and for all time! Even your children’s, children’s, children will be cursed!”
“OK! That settles it! You have been watching way too much TV!” Jamie joked.
“I’m not kidding.” I said, knitting my eyebrows together and leaning forward a smidge for added effect.
Jamie had the look that told me he was thinking really hard, then he scrunched up his nose and said with a mischievous gaze, “You know you smell like pee! Do you need changed?”
I raised my hand, placed it on his forehead and like the faith healers I’ve seen on TV I shoved him, and he fell backwards onto his bed laughing.
“Well, you do!” he said through his giggles.
“One of these days! Mark my words Jamie Applegate! You are going to go too far, and I am going to have to cut your heart out with a SPOON!”
Jamie sat up on his elbows smiling as he asked, “Why a spoon?”
“Because it will hurt more, you twit!” I growled, and we both laughed. It was a line from one of our favorite movies that we both have used many times over the years.
I turned in my chair, opened my desk drawer, pulled out my spiral notebook, and opened it to the first blank page. I started to reach in to grab an ink pin, but then I saw the little silver drawing compass lying in the corner of my drawer. “Oh this will work great!” I exclaimed pulling it from the drawer and holding it in the air like a mighty dagger.
“What are you going to do with that?” Jamie asked nervously.
I was my turn to take up an accent, and I chose to be a pirate this time, “Me thinks I shall skewer y’r eyeballs and smear ‘em on me toast for breakfast!”
Jamie covered his eyes with both his hands.
“And then me thinks I shall use your two marbles as earrings for me winch!” I said and Jamie dropped his hands over his boyhood parts and said in a high squeaky voice, “OK! You can have my eyes!”
“And y’r ears! I want ‘em both!” I said saltaly.
“Fine! Fine! Long as I can keep my marbles!” Jamie said, still using his squeaky voice.
When we stopped laughing I sat my open spiral bound notebook on Jamie’s lap and explained that he was going to write his oath with his own blood in my notebook. Very reluctantly he held out his left index finger (Jamie is left handed), and with the drawing compass I stabbed his finger. He whimpered and sucked in his breath as I stabbed him.
“That hurt?” I asked.
“Just a little tickle!” Jamie lied.
I squeezed his finger to make the blood flow and I was just about to instruct him to start writing but when I looked up into his face I saw that he was just about as white as a sheet.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Uh, I don’t think so!” Jamie said slowly.
I reached out and pinched his leg really hard.
“OUCH!” Jamie cried out, “That really hurt!” He said, as he rubbed his leg to soothe where I’d pinched him.
My pinch did the trick, and he was already getting his color back. “Sorry, but you looked like you were going to faint,” I said.
“But why’d you have to pinch me?” He complained.
“Remember that movie we watched about a month ago called Major Pain?” I asked.
“Oh yeah!” Jamie exclaimed, “You’re going to feel just a little bit of pressure!” Jamie laughed.
I squeezed his finger again, “Okay, now write before I have to stab you again.”
It was hard to read, but it was there in blood in my notebook and signed with Jamie’s name; that he’d never again try to read my journal entries.
When the blood had dried, I closed my notebook and returned it, and the compass, back to my desk drawer. But I closed the drawer too hard and that fool bear toppled over onto me. Jamie laughed, but he got up quick and pulled it off me. It had caused me to bend wrong and a stabbing pain exploded in me like dynamite, but as soon as I was sitting up straight again the pain subsided quickly enough.
“Gee-whiz, I bet that hurt!” Jamie said, still laughing.
“Yeah, just hurt a little.” I lied, rubbing at my taped ribs.
After setting the bear back on my desk, Jamie returned to sitting on the corner of his bed. He had an odd look on his face as he sucked on the end of this finger I had stabbed.
“What?” I asked, still rubbing my ribs.
“Dun’t et mav, ba u eally or tarting ta eally mell!” Jamie said with his finger still in his mouth. Despite his finger I understood exactly what he said.
I don’t know why, maybe I thought I was supposed to adopt a humble stature. I dropped my head and murmured, “Can you go get Mom for me then?”
Jamie was up and out of our room before I could raise my head again. With no one’s help, I got up form my desk, took the few steps to my bed, and managed to get myself laid down in the assumed possession without causing myself too much discomfort while I waited for Mom to come in.
It took Jamie a while to return with Mom in tow, and when they did come in, I saw that Jamie had a Band-Aid on his finger. I couldn’t help but wonder if he told Mom why he’d been bleeding, but then I figured he wouldn’t do that since he’d then have to tell why he had to sign a blood oath in the first place.
Jamie quietly climbed onto his bed and picked up a comic book to read. I saw out of the corner of my eye that he was not really reading the comic but was watching Mom change my wet diaper.
Mom leaned over me, “Are you just wet?” she asked in a half whisper.
I nodded that I was.
She then went to my dresser, pulled out a fresh pair of the plastic pants and one of the cloth diapers as well as the diaper cream. She came back over to my bed, laid them next to my pillow, and patted my tummy lovingly, “I think I better get a washcloth too.” She said as she left the room.
I looked over at Jamie but he’d hid his face behind his comic when he saw that I was looking his way. I almost said something to him, but at the last second I changed my mind. Mom returned with washcloth in hand, along with a hand towel too. She set them both down on my bed next to the other items and proceeded to strip me down to nothing but my birthday suit.
As Mom wiped my diaper area clean with the washcloth, out of the corner of my eye I kept an eye on Jamie who was peeking around the side of his comic book and watching Mom work. Just as before, as Mom started to apply the diaper cream, I had to force myself to think of nasty, painful and horrible things to keep myself from getting excited at her touch. Thankfully it worked again.
I was able to lift my backside myself to help her get the cloth diaper into place under me, but before she let me lower myself back down, she reached under me and smeared diaper cream around my butt cheeks. When she ran her fingers down inside my crack I started to laugh ‘cause it tickled like crazy.
“Mom don’t, that tickles!” I complained.
She didn’t say anything as she pulled the diaper up and pinned it into place. I glanced back over at Jamie who was so entranced in watching Mom and my show that he’d forgot that he was supposed to be hiding behind his comic. He’d let it drop down so that I could see his whole face. His eyes were wide and he had a funny little grin.
Mom slid the plastic pants over my feet and up my legs until she needed me to raise my bottom again. Without thinking, I lifted up and she finished getting them over the cloth diaper and made sure that all the diaper was tucked into the plastic pants. She then ran a finger around the leg openings before leaning forward and kissing me lightly on the forehead, “All done!”
She returned the cream to my dresser drawer and left with the used plastic pants, cloth diaper, towel, and washcloth.
Jamie had returned to his ruse of reading his comic, and I couldn’t help but giggle to myself.
“What you giggling about?” Jamie asked.
I was about to answer him when Dad came into our room. I managed to raise myself up on one elbow, “What’s up?” I asked.
“I am going out for a bit,” Dad said, looking down on me from over my headboard.
“You going to get me that skateboard for my birthday tomorrow?” I asked, trying to sound irresistible.
“How about if I just get a board to use on your butt?” Dad said with a grin.
“Uh, I think I’ll let Jamie have mine, but thanks for thinking of me anyway!” I joked back.
Still sporting the same grin, Dad leaned over me so that our faces were only inches apart. “You and me need to have a talk, don’t you think?” he asked so soft that there was no way Jamie could have heard it.
“Yes sir” I managed to get out.
“Since I’m going to be out late and since tomorrow is your birthday, if you want to wait until Monday to have our talk, then it can wait. Ok?” Dad added.
I nodded instead of audibly answering him. “Ok then.” Dad said, and then he leaned in further, kissed my cheek, and said, “I love you son.”
“Love you too Dad!” I whispered back.
He then stood up and walked over to Jamie’s bed, where he sat down with his back to me. They both talked in such low whispers that I couldn’t hear them either. After a couple minutes, Dad got up, gave me a smile, and left.