This is the continued story of
Simon’s Journal.
I would highly recommend you read the first volume of this story,
Simon’s Journal
Thirteen Days – The First Crusade
before you begin this novel.
The following narrative is nearly a complete work of
fiction.
Any similarity to actual individuals living or dead is completely
unintentional.
If reading a coming of age story about boys wearing diapers and exploring their
awakening sexuality is offensive
or illegal in your area, then might I suggest you go
read War and Peace or something equally stimulating.
Simon's Journal
Volume II
Thirteen
Nights – After the Crusade
Written by
Danny
Author of Thirteen Days
Part 3 – Friday, March 12, 2004 – Not so Superman
There was another short pause before Micky added, “Should be me
down dere! Why'd ya go and say it were y’rs?" Micky’s voice failed him at
the end and I could see he was biting on his bottom lip to keep from loosing
all control of his emotions.
I hesitated; this whole dialogue was so astonishing and staggering
that it was hard for me to get my thoughts together and remember why I had
actually said it was mine.
I took a breath before speaking, “Don’t much matter; I'm going to
die here anyway.” I paused expecting one of them to say something and when they
didn’t I added, “It’s okay, I know that I am." And that explanation was
exactly the truth as far as I was able to see.
For the longest time no one made a peep until finally in an almost
explosive cry Micky said, "No!” he stood up and stomped his bare foot and
at the moment it did not registered that I’d seen he was wearing a diaper under
his night shirt, “No! No! No! You ain't gunna die!” he dropped back down so
that he was right over top the grate, “Y’ear me, Ron? You ain't gunna die! We
wont let ya."
"Wh-wh-why?" I asked in a disbelieving tone. After all, I
was still finding it difficult to accept that the issue of me wearing diapers
at night had not been brought up.
“’Cause we done said so!” Micky grunted, “An' you might well know I
ain't proud o' how mean I been. None o' us is!"
“Da’s right!” Peter added after Micky prodded him with his elbow
and the other boys added their agreement as well.
“You just make certain you stays ‘live t'night, Ron!" Micky
said fiercely.
“Do me a favor?” I asked not sure if I could rely on them or not.
“An’thin’!” Micky said.
“Yeah an’thin’!” Per added.
“M-my
f-friend is up th-there somew-where.” I said quickly.
“Yeah
we know.” Micky said before I had even finished speaking, “Cho put ‘em in y’r
bed. He’s been tellin’ us all 'bou-cha.”
“Really?”
I said with such excitement that I nearly lost my footing on the ladder.
“Yeah,
e’s scared and cry’n a bit but he’s okay!” one of the other boys added.
I
had to swallow hard to keep from crying myself.
“Would’a
brung 'im but 'e cried 'imself ta sleep.” Micky said to reassure me, which it
did too.
“D-did
he t-tell you how h-he g-g-g-got here?” I asked.
“Said
‘e and some’n was tryin’ to find ya.” Micky said.
“S-someone
else?” I queried.
Micky
looked over at the others, “’Member who ‘e said?”
I
could see Peter shrug his shoulders and then one of the others answered unsure
of himself, “Said ‘is name were DJ didn’t ‘e?”
“B-B-BJ
is here t-too?” I blurted out instantly realizing that Lowell must have said
BJ.
The
boy that had told me it was DJ that had been with Lowell spoke again, “Na, Trey
done said ‘e must’a got-way.” And made no notion to my correcting him.
“Who’s
Trey?” I asked.
“Oh
sorry, Dat’s da name they done gived y’r friend.” Micky answered.
“Say,
ya need an’thin’?” the one boy who had remained silent up to this point has
spoke up.
“Yeah,
I’m really th-thursty.” I had spoken the words before I had a chance to think
about them.
“Oy!”
the boy closest to Peter chimed in, “O’er da udder side dare’s a bunch’a pipes.
Find da one dat ‘as da rag tide ‘round. It leaks loads an’ dat’s good ta
drink.”
Micky
added, “Yeah, der’s a ledge goes ‘round da sides!” and pointed down to show the
way.
"Dat's
right, ya . . ." added the ever-ready Peter but he didn’t get to finish
whatever it was he was going to say. It seemed from my poor vantage point that
a sharp jab with a fist to the jewels, might have taken place; courtesy of
Micky, who wished no more interruptions. “Enough, after all, was enough.” I
though to myself.
"Now,
stick y'r hand up chere, Ron," Micky instructed, "Ya ain't put ‘way
‘nough for a flee since’n ya been ‘ere. Put dis in y'r pocket."
I
didn’t bother to point out that I didn’t have any clothes let alone pockets but
did as he said and extended my trembling hand through the grate.
"It's
a corn cake; ain't ‘portant where it’s from.” He gave my wrist a squeeze, “We
gotta git. See ye soon! 'Night, Ron!"
"'Night,
Ron," echoed Peter though he still sounded to be in a little bit of pain.
All
the boys said there goodbyes and I listened to the fain sounds of their feet
which made no more sound than cats' paws as they padded away, leaving me alone
in darkness again. Alone to think about what had just happened, and somehow
finding it hard to believe it had happened at all. However, it seemed as if I
might now have friends in the Bancheli Home for Boys. Oh yes, and a corn cake!
I
was half way back down the ladder intent on finding my way to the leaking pipe
when everything kind of hit me at once. I stopped to put my head against a rung
as a lump lodged in my throat and tears welled up in my eyes, spilling past my
eyelids and rolling down my cheeks in a great deluge.
I
must have continued to lower myself back down because after a while I found
myself sitting once again with my back to the ladder and sobbing onto my knees.
The corn cake was gone now and I only knew I had ate it because I had little
bits of ground corn granules stuck between my teeth.
It
was then that I heard the same hissing sound again, “Sssst! Sssst!” However, this time I knew where it was
coming from. I looked up to see the faint light shining down through the grate
again.
The
boys must have returned; I could not imagine why, but one thing I knew; they
must not know I had been crying. So, I swallowed hard, wiped my eyes and nose
on my bare arm and tried my best to pull myself together.
“Sssst!
Sssst!”
"Hey
Ron! Come'n an' answer! We know y'r dere!' Sssst! Sssst! Sssst!
Sssst!”
Then
came what sounded to me to be Peter whispering, "Bet e’s dead now!"
“Maybe
‘e falled in?” another boy offered.
Peter
changed his mind and said, "Maybe e's escaped!"
I
thought I was beginning to recognize Micky’s sighs as he once again exhaled
sharply and groaned "Don-be a ‘orse’s rump!”
That
seemed to shut everyone up and Mickey again hissed down to me, “Sssst! Sssst!
"Hey, you sleep’n? Say somethin'! You there, Ron?"
Oddly
enough, I found this slightly amusing but could not contain myself any longer
and called up, "Y-y-yes!" And to my dismay, the word had come out in
a betraying sob! There were more whispers above, while I waited to hear the
jabs about me being a little baby for crying and having to wear diapers.
There
were several whispers that I couldn’t make out but I did hear, "He's been
cryin'."
"Wot
if ‘e ‘as?” One of the other boys commented and sounded as if he were ready to
fight someone.
“He
gots a right, don't ‘e? We all done it one time or 'nother. An' who's to blame
‘em?" That sounded like it had come from Micky though I had to strain to
hear him.
“I
ain't blamin' ‘em!" someone said sounding offended at Micky’s words.
“An'
you ain't to say nothin' 'bout it nei'ver. None o' us is. Micky wouldn't like
it."
“Micky
would not like it?” I though to myself. “Then these whispered voices were not
those of Micky and Peter? Who then?”
“Ron?
Ron, this ‘ere's Tyler. I come to say I'm sorry. T’ain't y’r fault y’r ‘ere no
more'n any o' us.”
There
was some silence before, “I'm Jonathan, an' I'm come’ta say I was a jerk
too!"
"Me
too," came another eager whisper who I figured I had mistook to be Peter
before, "I'm Timmy. An' . . . an' if ya was wearin' diaper where ya comed,
den comin' chere's worser f'r ya more’n any o' da rest o' us I spose."
"See
here!" Jonathan jumped in, "We wasn' spose’ta say nothin' 'bout . .
.” he trailed off before adding, “Now look whatcha gone and done! Micky’s been
flip’n crazed e’r since!"
A
long silence followed this exchange as if, having made a mess of the confession,
no one quite knew what was to be said next. Of course, with all this eagerness
to confess their wrong doings, I had hardly had a chance to put in a word
edgewise but even if I had, I didn’t know what to say.
“Can
ya come upda ladder? We done brung ya some'n t’eat.” Jonathan asked.
Despite
having had the corn cake only a few minutes before, I was still ravenously
hungry and was up the ladder in a second.
“’ere,
we done snuck'n got ya dese.” Jonathan said as he reached through the grate and
handed me two whole potatoes and an enormous carrot wrapped in some kind of
rag.
“Well,
see ya later!” Tyler said.
“’Night,
Ron!” Timmy sent down next.
“Oy,
G’night!” Jonathan added followed by, “Ouch, hey dat was ma foot!”
“Well
don’t be puttin’ it un’r mine.” Someone else teased him back.
I
heard one of the others say further away, “If’n y’r walk’n on da bottoms of y’r
feet, why can’t ‘e walk on da tops?” and more then one laughed at this.
I
laughed quietly to myself too as I sent back up, "G-good night
everyone." but it was too late, they were already gone.
As
soon as I was certain the boys had left, I shimmied back down and laid the
goodies there at the base of the ladder. My tears were all dried up be now, and
I did not think they would be back, at least not anytime soon. Feeling a little
energized by my two groups of visitors, I then managed to find the ledge Peter
had told me about and with my back to the wall, I made it all the way around to
the pipes. I had a hard time finding the rag but when I did, I nearly shouted
as I placed my mouth under the dripping water and tasted the fresh cool water.
I must have drunk ten gallons before my arms and legs began to feel like they
could not hold me in place much longer.
When
I made it back to the ladder I dropped down onto the floor, crossed my legs,
and rested the rag in my lap. I took a big bite from one of the potatoes and
was surprised to find it was not raw. It made no difference at all to me that I
was sitting alone in the dark, in a deep pit, beneath the floorboards at the
very bottom of the Bancheli Home for Boys. What did matter was the fact that I
was enjoying one of the best meals I had ever had in my life!
After
eating I must have drifted off to sleep and began to dream but unlike any dream
I had ever had before, I somehow knew that I was dreaming this time even though
it seemed so real and the images in my mind were so vivid.
It all started when the
phone rang one day and I, who at the time was six picked it up.
“Hel-l-llo?” I said into the
receiver the way I had seen mommy and daddy do so many times before.
“Hello Simon.” This is your
Auntie Catherine.
My heart jumped at the sound
of her voice, “Hi A-a-a-aun-n-tie C-cath-th-ther-r-ine!”
“Simon, I want you to spend
the night.” She had said it so quickly that it startled me for a moment, “Would
you get your mother and I’m going to talk it over with her. Would you like to
do that?”
Drawing in a huge breath, I
released it with tremendous force, “Y-y-yes! I w-w-would, I-I-I r-r-really
w-w-w-w-would! I-I w-w-will g-get m-m-m-mommy!”
When I got my mom, she
talked it over, hung the phone up, and called for me, “Simon?”
Bouncing excitedly on the
tips of my shoes I nearly shouted, “I-I’m r-r-right h-here m-m-mommy!” I had
been standing directly behind her the whole time.
“I’ve never let you spend
the night alone with your Aunt’s because . . . well you break things and still
wet your bed. I’ll let you spend the night if there’s no trouble and you
promise to wear your special pants when you go to sleep. Your Aunt Catherine
will be very upset if you pee on her new couch.
Seeing how it hadn’t even
been an hour since I had broken the towel bar off the wall of the hallway
bathroom and earlier in the day had overturned mommy’s cup of tea, I stuffed my
hands guiltily into my two back pants pockets. Looking down at my shoes I shook
my head and I weakly said, “W-won’t b-b-be a-any t-t-t-troub-b-ble! I
p-p-prom-mise m-m-m-mom-m-my!”
I looked up just in time to
see her smiling and saying, “Alright then, let’s pack your bag and I will drive
you over.”
I lunged forward, wrapped my
tiny arms around my mommy’s leg and squeezed her with all the might that was in
my little body, “Th-th-thanks!”
I ran so fast to my room
that I beat mommy and even had enough time to find my little red suitcase that
was filled with my matchbox cars, which I promptly dumped out on the floor
beside my bed.
When mommy had arrived, we
packed my things into my little red suitcase; I think I was surprised that she
had not said anything about my cars being on the floor. I wanted to put in
eight t-shirts but mommy said I would only need one. When I tried to put in a
pair of black socks mommy said they were too warm for summertime and put in a
pair of white ankle socks instead.
“What else do we need?” she
asked while looking linguistically at me.
“My toothbrush?” I asked in
return.
“Why don’t you go get it
from the bathroom AND BE CAREFUL!” she had to shout that last
part because I was already halfway down the hall by then.
I was back in no time at all
with my toothbrush trapped between my teeth and my arms outstretched as I flow
into my room and came in for a landing next to mommy.
I looked into my red
suitcase and seen that mommy had placed three pairs of my bedwetters pants in
along with two pair of pajamas and one pair of faded blue denim cut-off shorts.
And before I knew it, I was
in the car and my mommy was driving me to Auntie Catherine’s house. Mommy
warned me one more time, Now Simon, I know you will be good but, if there is
trouble . . .” she paused only for a moment before saying, “I won’t let you go
overnight for another year or two. Now your Aunt can be a little difficult late
in the day.”
Fearing that she might
change her mind and take me right back home, I quickly assured her, “I’ll be
good!”
Well, I was so excited when
we drove down Dogsong Drive, I remember it ‘cause of the funny name, and then
we took a left onto Auntie Catharine’s street. I knew it well and had been here
many times but never overnight alone.
When we parked, I got out of
the car and I ran up the steep concrete steps. Auntie Catharine’s home was a
huge three story wooden house; she had the second and third floor.
I pushed the door open and I
stepped across the hallway. I had to stand on my tippy-toes to be able to reach
the button and when I pressed it, “ZZZZZZZT”
A moment later there was a
clicking sound it was my Aunt pressing another button and that meant I could
open the door; it was magic! I pushed it open and way up at the top of the
stairs was my Auntie Catharine.
“H-hel-l-l-lo A-a-aunt-ty
C-c-cath-thar-rine!” I shouted up to her.
And as I waved below, I
could smell the wonderful smells in that hallway. It was a very dark hallway
and the stairs were very steep. It was magic to me; I could have spent the
whole time right there at the bottom of the steps.
But I was pulling my little
red suitcase up those stairs quick as I could. When I got to the top my Auntie
bent over and she kneeled down and gave me a big hug.
“H-hel-l-l-lo A-aunt-ty
C-cath-thar-tine!” I managed to say while she tried to hug the life out of me.
I kissed those plump red
cheeks, Auntie Catharine was not nearly as humungous back when I was only six
but she still seemed like a giant of a woman to someone as little as me. Her
cheeks were red and smelled like peaches, Auntie Catharine always smelled like
sweet peaches.
She held me at arms-length,
honked my nose with her finger and said, “Simon, you go on upstairs now. You go
see the backroom. I have made it up just for you!”
With a squeal I shouted, “A
r-r-room j-j-jus-s-st f-for m-m-me?” and was gone in a flash.
I ran up the back stairs and
heard mommy down with Auntie Catharine and she was saying, “Simon, you be
good!”
I shouted back to her, “I w-will m-m-mommy! I-I w-will! B-bye!”
Somehow, I knew just the
room I was going to too. It was a small room orange and yellow stars painted on
the ceiling. It was the room was always allowed to play in whenever we would
come to visit. I stepped into the room and instantly saw the present my Auntie
had left for me.
All the other times we had
visited the room had been furnished with an old wooden desk and rolling chair
that I would sit on and spin until I nearly puked. Over by the window, there
had been a tired old loveseat with one leg missing. Auntie Catharine used a
stack of magazines as a replacement for the missing leg. There had also been a
small set of shelves to the left of the loveseat that had Lego’s, stuffed
animals and picture books.
However, not anymore! Now
the room was furnished with an old white crib, a funny looking white dresser, a
short white table with yellow legs that had been placed over where the shelf
had once been and a big bright-red beanbag chair was now sitting in the space
once occupied by the loveseat. I was shocked for several seconds before I
noticed that on the floor Auntie Catharine had painted an entire city road map
and had placed several Matchbox cars on the roads.
I forgot all about the crib
as I got down on my hands and knees to play with the cars for a while. I was
having so much fun driving the cars around the painted city and probably would
have gone on playing had I not found the other thing Aunt Catharine had
left for me.
On the short white table,
the one with the yellow legs, there were two rosy-pink pieces of tissue paper,
some small kiddy scissors, some Elmer’s Glue and two sharp pencils.
I knelt right down and got
the scissors, I cut two circles out of the rosy-pink tissue paper, and then I
put glue on the back. I pasted the circles as rosy cheeks on my face.
I looked out the window and
saw that my mommy was driving away. The corners of my mouth curled up as the
thought crossed my mind, “I’m free.”
I ran down the back stairs
and my Auntie’s eye lit up, “What cheeks Simon!”
“Y-yes they’re nice!” I
grinned and felt the glue pull at my skin as it dried.
She was beaming back at me
as she said, “How about if you and I have some milk and cookies in the dinning
room?”
“YEAH!” I cheered punching
my fists high over my head.
“But,” she continued and my
excitement ebbed a little, “I’m going to do the wash and you’re going to go on
an errand.”
“W-w-what’s an
e-e-er-r-r-r-rand?” I asked.
She smiled again, “You know
Mr. Young?”
My heart did a flip-flop in
my chest when I remembered him from my last visit. Mr. Young always gave me
candy when we would come to visit Auntie Catharine. “Oh, y-y-yes!” I answered,
“He sells candy!”
She smiled, “That’s right,
and other things too. He’s just three doors to the left.” She was reaching into
her purse, “Here’s some money. You’re going to get half a pound of sugar and
six red apples.” She sat her purse on the sofa, “He’s waiting for you.”
“I’ll get them, and I will
get good ones!” I said excited to be asked to do something so important all by
myself.
She was smiling, “I will
trust you to get the best!”
“I will!” I added.
But before I could get away
out the door, she called after me, “Before you go, come into the kitchen with
me.”
I followed her so filled
with joy that my shoes barely made contact with the floor.
She opened a cabinet and
took out a cup with Superman on the outside.
“Oh c-cool!” I said since I
liked anything that had to do with comic book superhero’s on it.
“I saw this at a store and
thought you might enjoy using it.” She said as she filled it with water, “Now
drink it all down. It is very warm outside and you always have to remember to
drink lots of water.”
She handed the cup to me and
after admiring the awesome image of Superman I gulped down every drop. She
didn’t let me drink alone though; she had pulled a bottle of some kind of peach
smelling juice from the refrigerator and pored it into a fancy glass.
I handed the Superman cup
back to her and was off and out the door before she could stop me again. I had
never been on an errand in my life, not like this! I felt so important as I
went down the front stairs and out to the sidewalk where I turned to the left,
walked to the third door. I counted aloud, “O-one d-door, t-two d-doors,
th-three wonderful doors!” and proceeded to laugh my evilest laugh just like
the Count on Sesame Street.
I walked into Mr. Young’s
store; there were funny smells here too. The floor was wooden and had a kind of
wet look to it, almost as if someone had spilt water all over the place. Mr.
Young, he looked older then the black bananas on display beside him; and he was
round like an apple, so was his mustache and beard, though they were almost
pure white. Aside from a few hairs over each ear, his head looked like a big
melon with ears and eyes.
“Well Simon! Nice to see you
again; your Aunt said you were coming. Here I got the apples ready for you.”
He tried to hand them to me
in a white plastic bag but when I looked into the bag, I saw that they were red
with green still around the stem.
“N-no, I-I d-don’t
w-w-w-want th-those!” I said.
“What’s the trouble?” he
asked sticking his face down into the bag.
“Th-th-they d-d-d-don’t
l-look r-r-ripe!” I said bolder then I felt.
He laughed and looked around
the store before saying loudly, “Well, they’re supposed to look like that!
That’s the best way Simon!” he laughed again, “Well, I’ll give you the these
instead.”
He removed the red and green
apples and replaced them with six shiny-red apples, “Someday you’ll know
better!” he said handing the bag back to me.
I took the bag and with a
timid peek into the bag I said, “I-I th-think I-I-I kn-now b-b-better n-now.”
He laughed louder and
pointed at my face, “I like your cheeks Simon!”
I felt the glue pulling even
harder at my skin as I smiled before saying, “A-aunt-tie C-cath-thar-r-r-rine
as-s-sk-ked m-me t-to g-g-get a h-half p-pound-d . . .”
“Of sugar? Oh yes, I nearly
forgot! I have it right here.” He said handing me another bag.
It felt a lot heavier then I
was expecting and it was all I could do to hold the apples and the sugar up off
the floor.
“I think you’re all set now.
Just let me have the dough!” he said holding out his hand.
“D-dough?” I asked not
understanding that he wanted the money Aunty Catharine had given me to pay him.
“The money?” he said
pointing to the wadded up bill still clutched in my hand, the same hand that
was trying to hold on to the bag of apples.
Mr. Young bent over and
pulled the bill from my hand, “Here is your change!” he said after ringing up
the total on the cash register.
I stood looking from the
bags in my hands to the change in his hand not knowing what to do.
“Here allow me.” He said and
he bent over again, pulled open my pants pocket and dropped the change in.
I went out of the store
feeling wonderful. I got the best apples!
I went to the back yard and
Auntie Catharine was hanging the wash on the clothesline to dry in the summer
sun. I showed her the apples and sugar and ran up the back stairs. I carried
the bags into the kitchen but couldn’t reach the counter so I pulled out the bottom
drawer of a stack of drawers, it was filled with tools like screwdrivers and a
hammer. I used the drawer like a stepladder and was able to place both bags on
the counter and before climbing back down off the drawer, I placed the leftover
change next to apples for Aunt
Catharine to find.
I felt so big now and
important that I decided I was a businessman. And so I ran back up to the room
Auntie Catharine had prepared just for me to get one of the pencils from of the
little table. However, when I arrived I saw that I had left the glue open and
laying on its side. Glue had dripped out and formed a fairly large glob on the
table. Remembering my promise to mommy, I set the bottle of glue upright and
not knowing what to use to clean up the glue I decided to use the t-shirt I was
wearing. After all, it was pretty hot today so, I didn’t need to wear a shirt
and no one would ever know I had made a mess.
With the mess cleaned up and
my shirt stashed in the bottom of my suitcase I snatched up one of the pencils
and thought what a businessman did which was to make pencil marks on paper. I
looked to the scraps of tissue paper left on the table from where I had cut out
my rosy-pink cheeks. There wasn’t enough left to use for writing.
Then I remembered the man
that had come to our house only a couple of weeks ago to put in a new phone for
daddy to use. That man had sure looked important and he made marks on the walls
so that is just what I did.
I started going around
making little pencil marks on the walls, but I made them were no one couldn’t
see them. Then I decided I should make an important one, something special just
for Auntie Catharine.
I ran back down the stairs
and into the dinning room where I slid one of the chairs over to the white wall
and stood on the chair. I took the pencil and made a circle right in the middle
of the wall. No too big! I heard something that startled me and turned, “Oh
n-no!” I gasped.
As I had turned, I made a
pencil mark that was more then two feet long on the white wall. I knew I couldn’t
do that, so panicking I started to erase it. The whole thing and it made an
awful mess; it was much worse. So, I licked the eraser and erased again and now
it was terrible. I wet my hand by licking my palm and I tried to clean the
whole thing and . . . and it was horrible.
I knew I was going to be
sent home now. I jumped off the chair and I ran to the window. I saw Auntie
Catharine who was hanging the last few stockings. I knew she’d be up in a
couple of minutes.
I knew that when she saw
what I had done she would send me right home. All of a sudden, I knew what I
had to do! I ran to the kitchen, pulled open the drawer and I took out the
hammer and two big nails.
I ran back to the dinning
room, pulled the tablecloth of the table and I stood on the chair again. With
several swings of the hammer, I drove the first nail through the cloth right
into the plaster wall; amazingly enough, I managed not to hit my fingers with
the hammer. I climbed off the chair, moved it over and banged the other nail
through the cloth and into the wall.
I jumped off the chair and
looked at my handy work. It did what I had hoped, it covered the mess on the
wall, but . . . you could still see the cloth hanging there on the wall.
When I heard the back door
close I suddenly felt the need to pee but there was no time for that. I slid
the chair back into place, ran back to the kitchen, tossed the hammer into the
drawer, and had just managed to sit myself down at the small breakfast table
when Auntie Catharine came up.
“Well Simon! Good job on the
apples!” she bet over and kissed my rosy-paper cheeks.
“Where’s your shirt?” she
asked.
“Uh, I-I w-was hot!” I
answered quickly trying not to squirm or think about the fact that I needed to
pee.
“Oh well we can’t have you
running around here half naked.” She said and the way she said it made me
believe she had already formed some kind of idea in her mind. “You just wait
right there.”
She was back before I had a
chance to wonder where she had gone. She had something draped over one arm and
was smiling wider then I had ever seen her smile.
“Okay, stand up!” she said.
I did as she asked while
trying to keep my knees together so that I might not wet my pants..
“No, no, turn around. Face
the stove.” She said.
I turned so that my back was
to her and bit my lip.
“Close your eyes.” She said
in a teasing sort of way.
I closed my eyes and lifted
my arms instinctively expecting her to put a shirt on me.
“Put your arms down you
silly boy!” she giggled and I felt her tying something around my neck. “I was
going to save this for after dinner this evening but now is just as good a time
as any. Ah there we go.”
She turned me back around to
face her, “Well open your eyes!”
I opened them and looked
down to see a beautiful red cape hanging off my shoulders and draping down
behind me to the backs of my knees.
“I-I-It’s a c-c-c-c-c . . .”
I was so excited that I couldn’t managed to get my words past my stuttering
tongue.
“That’s right, it’s a cape!
I made it myself!” Auntie Catharine embraced my rosy-pink paper cheeks with her
hands and kissed my smiling lips.
I was so excited that I was
on the verge of tears. I threw my arms around her neck and hugged her so very
tight, “Th-th-th-th-thank-k-k y-y-y-you!” and I was so excited that I
completely forgot that I had to go pee.
She kissed me again before
going over to pore the milk and placing cookies on a plate while I soared
around the house making flying swooshing sounds.
“Hey, Superman?” Auntie
Catharine called out, “Let’s have our milk and cookies in the dinning room.
Come on Simon, you get the cookies.”
I froze in mid-flight,
“L-Let’s h-have i-it i-in th-the k-k-kitch-ch-chen.”
“No, I always have it in the
dinning room.” She said back, “Come on now Simon!”
I didn’t move; I just
listened for her to explode with anger.
“Simon? The tablecloth isn’t
on the table. Do you . . .” and her voice suddenly stopped—Silence!
“Simon, the tablecloth is
nailed to the wall.” She said it so calm, so without emotion that it scared me
even more.
“W-w-what w-w-wall?” I
stupidly said back to her.
“You come in and see what
wall.” She said in that same calm tone.
I hesitated for a moment
before dragging myself into the dinning room.
“Oh th-th-that w-wall!” I
said, which sounded just as stupid as my previous statement, “I-I-I n-nailed
i-it o-o-on th-that w-wall!” which made it sound like the most logical thing
for a boy like me to have done.
All of a sudden, I began to
get very stiff, very stern, very red and all of a sudden, I began to shake and
the tears rolled down my face as my bladder gave way drowning my underwear and
pants with pee. My tears rolled down and rolled onto the rosy-pink tissue paper
cheeks. My paper cheeks were getting all crumpled, getting all wet. My Auntie,
she was shaking like Jell-O, she got on the floor and she started to cry too, I
don’t think she had seen that I was wetting my pants yet. She pulled me into
her and her tears were flowing right onto the rosy-pink cheeks mingling with
mine. I rubbed one of the cheeks, it felt all crumbly and that made me cry even
harder.
“I-I-I’m g-g-going t-to have
t-to g-g-go h-h-home n-n-n-now!” I wept.
“It’s alright Simon!” Aunt
Catharine said, “It’s all right! Look at the two of us, now. You’ll be
alright.”
“I-I-I have t-t-to g-go
h-home!” I sobbed.
“You don’t have to go home.”
She said.
“Mommy said that you could
be a grump!” I sniffled while tears still flowed down my face.
“Well your mother’s no prize
either.” She spoke softly, “We’re going to work this out.”
“H-how w-w-we g-g-gon-n-na
d-do i-it? M-m-mommy’s g-gon-n-na kn-now!”
“Your mother’s not going to
know.” She said while attempting to wipe the tears away from my eyes.
“Look at the two of us.” And
she smiled, “Come on Simon.”
She sighed heavily and
breathed as she wiped her own tears away.
“Now come on, sit down and
have the milk and cookies.” She motioned to the table.
I managed to calm myself
enough to get myself seated next to her at the table.
“She hadn’t seen my wet
pants yet!” I thought to myself.
“How many cookies?” she
asked.
“I-I w-want f-f-five
c-c-cook-kies.” I answered with a whimper.
“You’ll have two!” she
answered back.
I drank half of my milk down
in one big gulp and that calmed me enough to realize that the milk didn’t taste
like normal milk.
“What?” She asked when she saw
the expression on my face.
“M-m-milk t-tast-tes
f-fun-n-n-n-ny.” I said with half way to my mouth.
“That’s because it’s special
milk, it’s good for you! Do you like it?” she asked.
I nodded.
“That’s good.” She said
sipping at her milk.
“M-m-mommy’s g-gon-n-na
kn-now.” I said swallowing the last bit of my second cookie.
“Your mother’s never going
to know. Now you watch.” She said and not finishing her milk or her other
cookie she got up, retrieved the hammer from the kitchen and like an expert,
she pulled those two nails from the wall.
She folded the cloth into a
perfect square and set it down on the table before disappearing from the room
again only to return with a small tub of wall-spackle. She filled the holes I
had made before turning to me and saying, “See, you can hardly tell the wholes
were every there.”
I sniffled, “B-but i-it’s
s-s-still a m-mess!”
She pressed the lid back
onto the little tub of wall-spackle and then turned back to the wall, “Well, I
suppose we better do something about that too. Come on, you can help!”
I followed without objection
as she lead me back up the stairs toward the room she had put together for me
but we didn’t go to that room, instead she lead me to a door which I’d never
seen open. She produced a key from her pocket, unlocked the door and ushered me
in first.
The room was dark only until
Auntie Catharine flipped on the light switch and I was nearly toppled over with
shock.
“Y-y-you m-make
th-th-these?” I asked while staring at the paintings.
There were probably twenty
or more paintings, all of little kids about my age. They were not great, but
they were good enough that when my eyes fell on a portrait of a young boy
wearing a red cape and with a big red ‘S’ painted on his chest, I knew
instantly that it was a painting of me, only I was minus the ‘S’ that the boy
in the painting had.
“I-is th-that m-me?” I
asked, sniffling as my nose was still running a bit.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
I waved my cape, “J-just
l-l-like m-my c-c-cape.”
She petted my head and for a
moment, I thought she had noticed the condition of my pants but then without
saying anything about it she reached to a high shelf and retrieving a can of
white paint.
“Can you bring those two
brushes.” She nodded toward two large brushes laying on a wooden table that was
covered with speckles of different colored paints.
I picked one up in each hand
and followed back to the dinning room where we proceeded to paint the wall
white again. Before she opened the can of paint she made me put on a fun kind
of mask that made clicking noises as I breathed and it made my voice sound all
funny like a machine.
We finished painting the
wall and we stood back to inspect our work.
“Perfect!” She proclaimed.
I added, “Y-yeah,
e-ever-ryth-thing h-as d-d-d-d . . .”
“Disappeared?” she offered
for me.
“Y-yeah!” I agreed.
While we had been waiting
for the paint to dry Aunt Catharine sat down to sew those nail holes in the
tablecloth. However, when she sat down on the sofa something was wrong with her
hand, it was shaking a bit.
“Think I will mend these
holes later. We’ll just put it on the table and cover the holes with a bowl of
apples and maybe some placements.
“M-mommy w-will kn-now!” I
whimpered again.
“No she won’t.” she answered
back and before I could say anything else she asked, “Do you want something
else to drink? I need something to wash the taste of paint out of my mouth.”
And she was up and on her
way to the kitchen that fast. I don’t know why, but I followed her and when she
was poring herself another glass of the peach smelling juice, I asked for some
too.
“Oh you won’t like this.”
She said making a face to let me know it was something yucky that only mommies
and daddies and Aunties like to drink.
“Here have a sip of mine.”
And she held the fancy glass to my mouth.
I took a tiny sip expecting
it to taste absolutely revolting but it didn’t. It didn’t taste bad at all; as
a matter of fact, it tasted delightful!
“You really like it huh?”
she said smiling.
I liked my lips, smiled and
nodded that I did.
“Okay, just a small drink
then.” She said and pored about an inch of the fabulous peach juice into the
Superman cup for me.
We returned to the Dinning
room to drink and wait for the wall to finish drying. I don’t know what sort of
juice that was but it made me feel so very happy and warm inside, like there
was a small happy fire burning in me.
We finished out drinks and
after checking and seeing that it needed more time to dry Auntie Catharine
asked if I would like to play a game.
“W-what k-kind of g-game?” I
asked.
“How about Hide-and-Seek?”
she said with the excitement of a child, “How about you hide and I will seek
you out?”
“Alr-right!” I giggled and
ran into the living room to hide behind the curtain but unbeknownst to me, my
left shoe was still sticking out.
Auntie Catharine was
counting aloud, “. . . six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve! Ready or
not, here I come!”
“Oh Superman were are you?
I’m going to find you!” and even through she could see my shoe, she didn’t let
on right away. She sang out, “I know you are here somewhere, but I’m never
going to find you! You’re too cleaver!”
And then I heard her gasp,
and her foots came closer and closer to wear I was hiding. She pinched my shoe,
“I think I got you Superman!”
I jumped out from behind the
curtain laughing and giggling gleefully. “Oh you found me! You found me!” and I
jumped around laughing and twirling about.
We played and played, each
time Auntie Catharine let me hide and she would come to look for me. It was so
much fun and I got so warm but I didn’t care. And the fact that I had wet my
pants didn’t bother me anymore. I was having too much fun to worry about
something like that and since Auntie Catharine had not said anything, I figured
she had not noticed.
After several more rounds of
Hide-and-Seek, we went back to the dinning room and found that the wall was now
completely dry. I could still smell a hint of the paint in the air but we had
all the windows open and Auntie Catharine assured me that by tomorrow the smell
would be completely gone.
She tousled my hair, “You
are all sweaty!”
“No I’m not!” I teased back.
“Yes, you are!” she gave me
a bump with her elbow.
“No I’m not!” I said again,
bumping her back.
She giggled, “You know
something?”
“What?” I asked.
“You are not stuttering
anymore!” she said.
Thinking we were still
playing and not realizing that what she had pointed out was true, I said back,
“Yes I am!”
“No you’re not!” She said.
“Yes I am!” I giggled.
She grabbed me up and began
to tickle me until all the laughter that I had inside of me was giggled out.
“Stop! Stop! Stooooop!” I
pleaded.
“Are you out of giggles?”
She asked.
“Yes!” I laughed.
“That sure sounds like
giggles to me!” she said tickling my ribs.
“No, no, please!” I pleaded.
She finally let me go and I
sat on the floor trying to catch my breath.
“Ah oh!” Auntie Catharine
said pointed to my pants.
I was horrified to see that
I had wet myself yet again and started to get upset but she said, “That was my
fault! I shouldn’t have tickled you so much!”
With a grunt she stood up
and extended a hand to help me up, “Let’s go get those pants changed and then
we can think about making dinner.”
I took her hand and followed
her all the way to the small room she had prepared for me. But I was about to
learn just how much she had really done to get the room ready for me to come
spend the night with her.
Still feeling a bit giddy
from whatever was in my milk and in that Peach juice stuff, I found myself to
getting as upset as I probably would have any other time.
She walked into the room
first, “Oh I see you have already played with the cars.”
“Oh yes thank you so much! I
wish I had my own city on my bedroom floor at home!” I said.
“Well you are welcome to
come over anytime you want to play on it.” She said reaching down for my little
red suitcase.
Now I had completely
forgotten about having used my t-shirt as a rag to wipe up the glue that I had
allowed to spill out onto the table earlier. So when she opened it and found
that there was glue all over everything she just smiled and said, “Had a little
accident with the glue too huh?”
I didn’t answer; instead, I
looked down at the roads under me.
“That’s okay, I think we can
make due.” And with that she closed my suitcase and at it down beside the odd
looking dresser.
She turned around and was
looking at me; I glanced up to see her giving me an appraising eye, “Maybe we
should get you washed up and then we will worry about what to wear.”
I didn’t know what to say so
I shrugged my shoulders. Auntie Catharine bent down, hoisted me up in her arms
and carried me out of the room, across the narrow hallway and into the bathroom
where she deposited me on the counter next to the sink.
Auntie Catharine’s bathroom
was white and green. All of the walls were covered with white and green
checkerboard tiles, the floor was all white tiles with a green tile boarder
only around the walls. The bathtub and toilet were both white but the sink and
counter were green with an old style white faucet. I had seen it before but
only a couple times and only long enough to go peepee in the potty. This time I
had enough time to take it all in.
After started the water in
the tub, Auntie Catharine turned back to me and said, “Okay, time to get your
cleaned up!”
“I-I c-can do it m-myself.”
I said.
“Ah oh!” she said and for a
second I thought I had said something bad but then she smiled and said, “Guess
the magic Peach Schnapps is wearing off, you are stuttering again.”
“M-magic w-what?” I asked.
“Schnapps, Peach Schnapps.
That is what you were drinking, that is what it is called.” She said while
lifting me into the air and having me stand on the lid of the toilet.
She had my pants unsnapped
before I could protest again, “I c-can d-do it m-myself.”
I thought I might have had her
mad at first but then she smiled and said, “You know something? I have always
wonted my own little boy to take care of. How about just for tonight, you be my
little boy?”
Confused I answered, “B-but
I c-can’t be.”
Auntie Catharine looked sad,
“How come? Don’t you want me to be your mommy just for tonight?”
Not understand that she was
only meaning for pretend I said, “B-but y-you’re my A-aunty?”
She took a moment to think
before saying, “You know how you pretend to be Superman?”
“Yeah.” I answered.
“But you are not really
Superman right? You are just pretending right?” she asked.
I thought for a second,
“Yeah.”
She smiled at this, “So how
about if I pretend to be your mommy and you pretend to be my little boy?”
I didn’t really know what to
say so I shrugged my shoulders.
“Okay then! So you will call
me mommy and I will call you . . . what should I call you?” she asked.
I shrugged, this time with
my arms and hands too, “Simon!”
This made her laugh, which I
was glad of.
“Okay, but since you are my
‘little’ boy,” she put extra emphasis on the word ‘little’, “Hum, what do they
call really little boys? Oh, I know! I will call you Baby Simon! How’s that?”
“B-but I’m n-not a b-baby!”
I answered.
“Oh of course you’re not!
This is just for pretend! Like another game!” she said reached up again to
unzip my wet pants. This time I didn’t protest, through I was feeling
apprehensive about all of this.
“Aft-ter m-my b-bath, c-can
I-I have an ‘S’ l-like in th-the p-painting?” I asked as he had me lift each leg
so that she could remove my shoes and socks.
“Oh I think that is a grand
idea!” she said reaching up and giving my nose a flick with her fingertip.
She had me stripped naked in
no time and despite my efforts to get her to let me keep the cape on while I
took my bath, she had untied it and hung it on a hook on the back of the door.
Next Installment:
** For the latest news on how each installment is coming along as well as answers to questions
asked by other
readers and so much more, visit me at www.talkhard.5u.com.
As always, your thoughts matter to me very, very much, so please send any
comments,
questions, suggestions, or criticism to me at: [email protected] and I promise
that I will reply
personally to everyone that takes the time to write to me! **