This is the continued story of Simon’s Journal.
Before you begin this third volume in this series,

I would highly recommend that you read the first and second volumes

as each picks up were the previous left off.

 

Simon’s Journal - Volume I 
Thirteen Days – The First Crusade

 

Simon’s Journal - Volume II

Thirteen Nights – After the Crusade

 

ADMONITION:

The following narrative is nearly a complete work of fiction. Some events and characters were pulled from real life but have been changed, enhanced and twisted to comply with my will. Any other similarity to actual individuals living or dead is completely unintentional, but it would be incredible!


WARNING:

The following story contains diaper use, violence, adult language and strong sexual content. If reading a coming of age story about boys wearing diapers and exploring their awakening sexuality doesn’t tickle your pickle, or if pickle tickling is illegal in your area, then I suggest you select something else to read.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Simon's Journal

Volume III

 

Thirteen Sails
Adventures Abound

 

Written by Danny

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter - 33

Fruitier than a bowl full of dad

 

Wow, it sure has been a long while since I’ve taken the time to actually sit down and do some journaling. So much has happened recently that I don’t really know where to begin. Perhaps I should start off by saying that I am back in command of the Banachelli. Please note that I said ‘I’ and not ‘WE’; Jamie and Lowell were caught as the three of us tried to make it to the ship. However, even before that happened I had the chance to confirm that my Aunt Catherine was my birth mom and found out that she hadn’t been artificially inseminated as she claimed to have been. Of course that lead to me learning the truth of who my birth father really is; boy it was a shocker to find out that I’d already met him before.

During the week that followed my vacation at the beach I spent most of my time either talking with my shrink or getting ready, along with Jamie and Lowell, to leave once more. Of course I didn’t share any of our plans to return to the Banachelli with my doctor; I mean if I wasn’t willing to tell Tom Segal, then why would I tell some overpaid, know-it-all doctor?

The plan had been for the three of us, Jamie, Lowell and me, to return to the Banachelli right before the start of the school year. But then, the day before we were due to leave, I overheard a conversation that made me want to put those plans on hold. I was coming through the living room, heading for the kitchen when I heard mom talking rather emotionally to someone on the phone. I stopped long enough to hear what she was saying and here’s what I heard...

“I’m telling you Catherine that he already knows you’re his real mother.”

“What do you mean?”

“Catherine!?”

“What?”

“All these years you’ve let everyone believe that you didn’t know who the father was and now you’re saying you’ve known all along?”

If I hadn’t had my hand resting on the wall I probably would have fallen on my diapered butt right then.

Mom continued talking to Aunt Catharine on the phone and with every second mom’s voice got a little louder and her temper seemed to grow along with it.

“Oh my god! You’re not serious?”

“But I thought that he was gay?”

“Why?”

“No we don’t!”

“No I will not promise that.”

“Catherine I said no!”

There was a prolonged pause and I figured my mom was listening to something Aunt Catharine was saying on the other end of the phone line.

“I can tell you right now that his father isn’t going to go for that idea.”

“Even if the doctor said it was alright I wouldn’t feel comfortable having Simon stay with you.”

“No!”

“He’s too fragile right now.”

“No we haven’t asked him if he wants to talk with you about it.”

And then it started to sound as though they were nearing the end of their phone conversation. But instead of going on into the kitchen I went back to my room and waited a while before venturing back out. When I returned to the kitchen mom was off the phone and no where in sight. After checking that dad was busy in his office I picked up the phone and called Aunt Catharine.

“Hello?” Aunt Catharine answered and from the sound of her voice she had been crying.

“Hi Aunt Catharine. It’s me, Simon.” I said.

“SIMON!!!!” She bellowed into the phone nearly deafening me in the process.

“Mom and dad don’t know I am calling you so I can’t talk long.” I said with my hand cupped around the receiver to try and keep my voice from traveling into dad’s home office.

“I’m so glad you called.” She said and then cleared her throat loudly.

“Um, can I ask you something?” I said with trepidation.

She hesitated before answering, “W-well sure you can.”

“I know you are my real mom...” I started to say. Aunt Catharine tried to interrupt me but to be completely honest here; I had little desire to talk with her. My only reason for calling was to find out two things and that was all I was willing to talk about with her.

“Stop!” I said forcefully. I then paused to make sure mom and dad hadn’t heard me before I continued, “I just want you to tell me who my real dad is. I know you know.”

The phone went deathly quiet; I couldn’t even hear her breathing on the other end of the line.

“Aunt Catharine?” I said thinking that maybe we were disconnected or that she might have hung up on me.

“Simon I don’t...” she began but once more I cut her off.

I’m not sure why but I was feeling my blood begin to boil as I said, “Listen, if you don’t tell me right now then I’m hanging up and never talking to you again! EVER!”

“Ian” she said so softly that at first I wasn’t sure I heard her right.

“What?” I asked.

“Ian” She repeated louder this time.

My legs began to tremble and my head was spinning around and around. For a minute there I thought that maybe I was going to pass out.

“Simon did you hear me?” Aunt Catharine asked.

“I heard you.” Was all I could think to say back to her at first but then I added, “Are you meaning the same Ian that painted the pictures of Jamie and me that are hanging in my room right now?

She broke down crying again as she said, “Yes!”

I had to put a hand on my chest to be sure my heart was still beating. I then placed my hand on the counter to support myself.

“Thank you for telling me.” I said into the phone.

I took a deep breath before pursuing my second question. “Now I’m going to tell you something and I want you to tell me the truth, ok?” I said in slow definitive words so that I was sure she understood me.

When she didn’t respond I took it as her willingness to continue. “I know that when I was little you used to give me some kind of peach flavored booze and some special medicine...” I paused to gauge her reaction. I could still hear her crying into the phone so I knew she was still listening. “... and I guess you must have got caught and I got taken away from you, right?”

I couldn’t believe when she answered with a soft but definite, “Yes.”

“Aunt Catharine...” I began to go in for the kill but she interrupted me by asking, “Can’t you please call me mommy?”

Wow! Talk about mad! I mean, right then I could have ripped a house in half with my bare hands, that’s how mad I was. But there was no way I was going to let her sidetrack me from my intended goal.

“Aunt Catharine!” I said forcefully and I could hear her breakdown and sob even louder. “I know what the medicine was and I know that you weren’t the only one giving it to their son. But what I don’t know is how you got it.”

For a long time I just listened to her weeping and blowing her nose. I was starting to get impatient and worried that at any second mom or dad could appear in the kitchen and I’d be busted but finally Aunt Catharine spoke. What she told me both frightened and unnerved me.

What I had thought was something that had been limited to Peter, Jasper, Lowell and I turned out to be much, much, much larger. Aunt Catharine spilled her guts to me; she told me that in a nationwide FBI sting more then one hundred parents had been arrested and the boys that had been given the “MEDICINE”, who’s ages ranged from as young as one year old and as old as twenty-three, had been removed from their parents custody. It had even gotten into the news but authorities managed to keep it small and within a short time it wasn’t given any major public attention.

Aunt Catharine told me a lot more about it all, details that aren’t really all that important however what she wasn’t telling me was were she got it so I pressed her for that extra bit of information.

“I saw an ad in a magazine. I sent away for more info and before long I received the elixir along with dosing instructions.” She said.

“Instructions on how to keep your little boy a little boy forever?” I asked.

That particular question she didn’t answer but she didn’t have to, I already knew that was the intended result.

“Aunt Catharine?” I said softly into the phone.

“Yes?” she sniffled.

“Thanks for telling me and...” I hesitated, “for what it’s worth, thanks for giving birth to me.”

“Simon?” she said quickly. I guess she knew I was about to end the phone call.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“I’m sorry and I love you.” She said.

Completely ignoring the ‘I love you’ I responded, “Don’t be sorry.” I said emotionlessly, “I’m not.”

And then I hung up the phone.

It wouldn’t be until the day that Lowell, Jamie and I were heading for the Banachelli, that I would find out I should not have said that last bit because somehow Tom Segal had overheard it. I just don’t know how he did but he did and he also guessed right that I was up to something. Those few words had put Tom on high alert.

 

The next morning I got up, got showered, slipped on a GoodNite and got myself dressed. All night long I had been dreaming about what I wanted to do that day. So when I got up I had it in my head that I was going to go confront my real dad. I went out into the kitchen where I found mom frying eggs and turkey bacon.

“Hi Mom,” I said.

“Hi sweaty,” she said back.

“Mom can I see if I can go over to Jamie’s today?” I asked.

She dropped the spatula on the floor and I knew that my question had caught her off guard. We both knew that my real father lives in the same building as Jamie and his mom, however mom had no idea that I knew.

“Gee-whiz mom!” I said when she dropped the spatula.

“I-I must have butter on my hands.” She said but I knew she had dropped it because I’d shocked the heck out of her with my question.

“Maybe you should just stay home today.” She tried weakly to sway me.

“Please mom? I just want to go hangout with my brother!” I said trying to make her feel guilty enough to let me go.

“If Marsha says that its ok. But don’t go running all through the building. You stay in their apartment.

I pounced on the phone before she had even stopped talking. The phone rang three times before Jamie answered it.

“Hello?” Jamie said.

“Yo-Yo-Yo what’s up bro?” I said trying to sound gangster.

“Hey Simon!” Jamie said as he recognized my voice.

“Can I come over?” I asked.

Now the last time I talked with Jamie and Lowell we had agreed that we probably would talk again until we met up to go back to the Banachelli. So I wasn’t surprised at Jamie’s reaction to my call.

“Oh my god! Why? What’s going on?” Jamie asked really fast just like Lowell does when he’s had too much caffeine.

I couldn’t come right out and tell him that I was delaying our departure ‘cause mom was right there, so instead I said to him; “Since when do I have to have a reason to stop what I am doing to spend time with my favorite brother?”

“Oh crap something did happen! Do you need me to call Lowell or have you already done that?” he was speaking even faster then before.

“Uh, you want to ask your mom?” I said.

Without removing the phone from his mouth he screamed, “MOM CAN SIMON COME OVER?”

I had been smart enough to pull the phone away from my ear so that he wouldn’t deafen me. He and Lowell both have a bad habit of doing that.

Jamie then said, “She said yes. How you getting here?”

“Oh,” I grunted into the phone then covering the mouth piece I asked mom, “Can you give me a ride?” But dad walked into kitchen right then and swatted me on my diapered bottom.

“Go where?” he asked.

“To Jamie’s.” I answered.

“When?” dad asked.

“Soon as I get done eating breakfast and talk one of you into taking me over.” I said remembering to shoot them my best smile.

“I can drop you on the way to work.” Dad said.

“But honey your work is in the opposite direction.” Mom said to him.

“Normally yes but I’ve a 9:00 AM meeting with Drake Philips and Andy Cohog downtown.

I removed my hand from the receiver and told Jamie the good news. “Jamie?”

“Yeah,” he answered back.

“Dad’s going to bring me on his way to a meeting.” I said.

“How sooooon?” Jamie asked with a bit of an impatient whine.

Right when Jamie asked that question I felt my bowels release.

“Ah man!” I griped aloud.

“What?” Jamie asked.

“Nothing,” I sighed, “I’m going to eat breakfast but first I have to get one of my parents,” I started to say kind of loudly so that they would get the hint, “to change me.”

Jamie laughed because he figured out what I’d done.

“So I’ll see you in say an hour?” Jamie asked still giggling.

“Yeah that sounds about right but hopefully sooner.” I said, “See you then bro.”

“Ok, but do you need me to call Lowell or not?”

“Yeah that sounds good to me!” I said trying to be covert.

“Ok and do I need to be worried?” he asked and then said, “Cause I am!”

“It’s all good! Talk to you in a few!” I said.

“I gotcha. Bye ‘til later!” he said before hanging up.

“Come on,” mom said tugging on the front of my shirt as I was hanging up the phone.

We were halfway down the hallway when we heard dad offer up the suggestion, “Honey, why don’t you just take him out back and hose him off?”

“You’re not funny dad!” I shouted back.

Mom had me cleaned up within a matter of minutes but she wouldn’t let me just put on a pair of GoodNites again. She insisted on putting me into a regular disposable diaper with plastic pants. I wasn’t really in the mood to argue with her so I just let her have her way.

“HONEY THE EGGS ARE BURNING!” dad shouted from the kitchen.

She let the elastic of my plastic pants snap against my belly as she stood up and ran from my room.

“Ouch that hurt!” I complained but she hadn’t heard me.

Since I had to wear a regular diaper I couldn’t put on the same pants because they wouldn’t fit over the diaper. It was too bad because I was wearing a cool white button up shirt that looked cool with my black jeans. So instead I had to wear my normal blue jeans which meant I had to change my black socks ‘cause I wasn’t about to wear black socks and black shoes with blue jeans.

“Boy I can’t wait to get back on board the Banachelli so that I don’t have to worry about these dang clothes anymore!” I said absent-minded. It was a good thing that mom had already returned to the kitchen otherwise I was sure that I would have just blown the whole dang plan right out of the water.

I woofed down my eggs and toast but no matter how much they tried, they couldn’t get me to eat the turkey bacon. I did try a bit but it tasted like dirt flavored cardboard and I spit it back onto my plate. In record time I gulped down my O.J. before going to the sink and downing a glass of water too.

“Wow, you thirsty or something?” mom asked.

I let go a wimpy little burp.

“Not now I ain’t.” I said trying to be cute.

 

You know, to this very day the security guard in Jamie’s apartment building dislikes me. I mean every stinking time I go in there he makes a face as if he’s got diaper gravy on his upper lip. So why should that particular visit be any different. I walked into the lobby, gave the guard a friendly wave with my middle finger before running for the elevator.

I didn’t even get a chance to knock on the door to Jamie’s and his mom’s apartment. I lifted my hand to knock and like magic the door opened.

“Well it’s about time you came to see me!” Marsha said pulling me into a big welcoming hug.

“Why do you smell like bananas?” I asked her.

“What no hello? How are you? I missed you? I’ll take anything!” she said holding me at arms length.

I smiled up at her and said in my worst British accent, “Jolly good morning my dear lady? It’s ah divine daaarling morning, isn’t it? Oh and one does hope that you’ve bin well and that little tike of yours hasn't bin getting intoh toohh much trouble.”

She gave my ear a twist and said, “Cheeky monkey!” to which I couldn’t help but laugh. She then got a serious look on her face and said, “And if I ever hear of you flipping someone off again I will break both of those fingers off!”

She flicked the end of my nose with her long fingernail to drive her message home.

“You mean that dork downstairs told on me?” I asked without thinking.

“You heard me young man!” she said twisting my ear once more just for good measure.

“OK, I’m sorry!” I said to her and that seemed to placate her ‘cause she retreated to the kitchen.

Jamie came out of his room and greeted me with a hearty, “DUDE!”

And I returned the greeting with my own, “DUDE!”

Jamie grinned mischievously then motioned to his room and said, “DUDE?”

I didn’t want to go to his room; I wanted to go to Ian’s apartment so I thumbed over my shoulder toward the door and said, “Nah, Dude!”

Jamie then shrugged his shoulders and looking puzzled asked, “Dude?”

Stomping my foot and motioning over my shoulder with my thumb again I said, “DUUUUUDE!?!?”

Jamie shrugged again, and shouted, “Mom we’re going over to Becky’s for a bit.”

“OK!” she called from the kitchen.

Once out in the hallway Jamie nudged my arm, held out his hands and asked, “Dude?”

“Alright, that’s getting old!” I said giving him a shove.

“Well then what’s up?” he asked.

“You think Ian’s awake yet?” I asked.

“Uh, I’ve not seen him for a few days. He said he had a big piece to do for some place out west or something.” Jamie offered.

He then asked, “Why?”

Ignoring his question I asked, “Can we go see if he’s up?”

“I don’t even know if he’s home.” Jamie shrugged, “And besides I want to know what is going on! Are we still going tomorrow night or not?”

“I’m not sure yet but maybe, just maybe, we might need to post pone our trip for a few days.” I said while trying not to look Jamie in the eyes.

“Why? What’s going on?” he asked.

I kicked at a bit of fuzz on the floor as I said, “I have something that I still have to take care of before we can leave.”

Jamie put his hands on his hips and impatiently said, “And I suppose you can’t tell me what that is?”

“Well I could, but I don’t want too.” I said truthfully.

“Can you at least tell me why you want to see Ian so much?” Jamie was still standing there looking irritated with me.

“I just do, alright!” I said stomping my foot like some little brat kid about to throw a temper tantrum.

Jamie must have been in the mood to argue because he countered with, “But what if he isn’t home?”

“There’s only one way to find out!” I said walking down toward Ian’s apartment door.

“So come on, tell me why you want to see him so bad.” Jamie said again.

“Uh, I can’t tell you... well, not yet. I mean, if I do then I am going to have to kill you and,” I paused for dramatic effect before saying, “let’s face it, I’ve grown rather fond of you my dear fruit of my father’s loins.”

Jamie grabbed my sleeve and pulled me to a stop. “Simon? What are you up to?”

I yanked my arm free, “I really hate when you start acting like dad.”

“Don’t avoid the question!” Jamie said grabbing my sleeve again.

“Anyone ever tell you that you can be really bossy?” I asked him.

And before he had a chance to let the question absorb into his brain I spun myself around, caught hold of his arm and twisted it behind his back in a chicken wing. He was just tensing up to try and counter my move when I leaned forward and gave him a big, wet, sloppy, puppy-dog kiss right on his cheek. I’m talking about a really sloppy one that even went into his ear.

“Ah sick!” He groaned and jerked his arm out of my grip.

He started wiping his face with the front of his t-shirt which left his nude belly exposed. While he wasn’t looking I threw myself at him, wrapped my arms firmly around his butt and locked my fingers together.

He only had time to say, “Simon NO!” before I gave him a belly raspberry so big and loud that it sounded like some big fat man had cut the cheese in the hall. The raspberry on his belly had the intended effect. Jamie squealed because it tickled so much and right before I let him go I took hold of the sides of his pants and with a single yank they were down around his knees. That left him standing there with his diaper fully exposed. Granted there wasn’t anyone else around but that didn’t matter to him.

“SIMON!” Jamie griped and turned twenty shades of red as he struggled to pull his pants back up over his obviously drenched diaper.

“You are so incredibly dead!” he said still fumbling with his pants.

I took off running down the hallway as fast as my legs could carry me and I reached Ian’s apartment door a whole twenty seconds before Jamie had even started after me. Frantically I knocked on the door and to my surprise it swung open all by itself.

What I saw struck me dumb. Even when Jamie ran up to me and punched me in the arm I didn’t react. That is when he saw it too.

Stretched from the extreme left wall about ten feet from where we were standing all the way around Ian’s apartment and ending at the extreme right wall was an eight foot high canvas. The canvas seemed to just be floating then we both saw that it was actually hung from a thin wire; kind of like a curtain. But what Jamie and I were looking at was no curtain. It was the biggest, most elaborate painting I’ve ever seen.

“Ian?” Jamie called in a high nervous sounding voice.

“That you Jamie?” came Ian’s familiar voice from, uh, nowhere.

“Ian, where are you?” Jamie asked.

Ian’s head suddenly appeared from behind the canvas to my left. When he emerged he said at a completely normal level, “BOO!”

Jamie and I both screamed and Jamie jumped a good foot in the air. I guess he hadn’t got his pants back on all the way because when he jumped they fell to his ankles again.

“Ian what is this... uh... wow, I don’t know what to call it.” Jamie said with a queer sort of chuckle as he hoisted up his pants again.

“Holy buckets of green diaper gravy! How long have you been working on that?” I said as Ian emerged from behind the canvas.

“Come on in here boys!” Ian said pulling us both into his apartment, “This side took me a week; well, seven and a half days, but the other side I should be done with later today, or tomorrow at the latest.”

Ian then thrust a triumphant fist into the air, “Which will mean that the whole project will have taken me about twelve days!”

“H-H-How?” Jamie stammered as the two of us stepped further into Ian’s apartment and rotated our heads like a couple of owls to take in the full view of his magnificent achievement.

“How what?” Ian asked.

“Huh?” Jamie grunted. I don’t even think Jamie knew what he was saying.

“Ian this is... is...” I tried to say.

“Big?” Ian offered with a humorous rumble.

“I was thinking more like amazing, stupendous, mammoth, breathtaking even!” I proclaimed while spreading my arms to demonstrate the majesty of it all.

“So you like it then?” Ian asked sarcastically.

“Wow!” Jamie puffed, “Would you look at that!”

He then pointed to the silhouette of a man standing on what appeared to be Mount Rushmore. What was so amazing was that even in silhouette it was clear that he was totally in the buff and very much a man; if you get my meaning.

That is when I realized that every single person on the canvas, and I mean there were dozens if not hundreds in all shapes and sizes, that had been painted completely and absolutely without clothing.

Jamie suddenly made a horror stricken sound and screeched, “Hey wait a second, is that? Oh my god it is!”

Ian tried to cover Jamie’s eyes, “Maybe you shouldn’t be seeing that.”

But Jamie spun away and the look of distress and mortification of having just seen the nude image of his mom was evident on his face.

“Ian? You painted my mom n-n-n?!” Jamie couldn’t bring himself to say it and I watched as his face turned as red as an apple.

“Well she offered to pose for me.” Ian said rather flamboyantly, “Besides, how could I refuse?”

Jamie spun around and shot daggers from his eyes, “Easy! You just say no!”

“But then I wouldn’t have that beautiful part of the painting!” Ian said still gazing lovingly at Marsha’s likeness.

“But Ian, it’s my mom!” Jamie cried out and turned back toward the canvas, “And she’s... she’s... Oh you have to put some clothes on her or cover her with a cloud or a building or something!” Jamie pleaded and then he spotted something else that pushed him into complete hysterics.

“OH MY GOD I CAN SEE MY MOM’S CRACK!” Jamie’s voice filled every inch of the apartment and caused the walls to reverberate. “IAN I CAN SEE MY MOM’S CRACK! I-I-I DON’T WANT THE WHOLE WORLD LOOKING AT MY MOM’S CRACK!”

“I don’t know; I kind of like her just the way she is.” I said staring up at her.

“SIMON!” Jamie huffed while trying to cover my eyes, “Stop looking at my mom’s crack like that!”

I pushed his hands away and said, “Ian this is stellar!”

“I hope my client thinks so.” Ian said putting down the brush that, I hadn’t noticed, he had been holding.

That is when I looked into Ian’s eyes and saw how tired and old he looked.

“Whoa, how long has it been since you slept?” I asked Ian.

Jamie stepped back to get a better look at Ian and added, “Yeah, you do look pretty bad!”

“Gee thanks!” Ian sort of snickered. “Think I’ve had all of about three hours of sleep since I started this. And I think when it is done I’m going to sleep for a month!” he then gave a flick of his wrist as he added, “Maybe even two!”

Without really thinking about it I did the math in my head, “You’ve hardly slept for nearly two weeks?” I said astonished that someone could go so long on so little sleep.

Ian reached back and rubbed at his neck, “Hey when there’s two-hundred-thousand dollars riding on me completing this on time I’d saw myself in half if I thought it would help me get done faster.”

“Two-hundred-thousand dollars?” Jamie and I simultaneously blasted back at him.

What Ian said next made me snort with laughter and nearly made Jamie’s head explode. “Well you know some people are willing to pay big bucks to get a look at Marsha’s fanny.”

Jamie stood there with his mouth hanging open and his eyes bulging from their sockets. I bet that if a feather had brushed against Jamie’s face right then he would have fell over backward like a stone statue.

Ian placed a hand over his mouth as he let slip a quiet little giggle. I on the other hand had to bit my bottom lip and cover my mouth with both hands just to keep from laughing.

“That isn’t funny!” Jamie protested.

I quickly came back with, “I think it was the funniest thing I’ve heard all day!” Oddly enough, within minutes I would be forced to eat those words.

Ian stepped around us, picked up a coffee cup and chugged the contents before saying, “It’s the biggest commission of my life.”

“Biggest painting too!” I added.

Ian quickly countered with, “No, I’ve done bigger!”

“You have?” I gasped.

“Well not nearly this fast!” Ian surrendered.

“Can we see the other side too?” Jamie asked.

“Sure, sure!” Ian said motioning for us to go around the same way he had emerged minutes before.

“How long is it?” I asked.

“A hundred and seven feet.” Ian answered.

“Does that count both sides?” Jamie asked.

“Nah, that’s just the over-all length.” Ian said.

“So you’ve painted two-hundred and fourteen feet in less then two weeks?” I asked.

“Pretty close!” Ian said running his fingers threw his paint encrusted hair, “Like I said I hope to finish it sometime tomorrow.”

All of a sudden I started feeling guilty. I had come over to confront Ian about being my real dad but seeing how bad he looked right then and knowing what he had to get done if he was going to get paid? Well I didn’t think I had it in me to dump what I was carrying onto his already over burden shoulders.

“Oh yeah Simon, why did you want to see Ian so badly?” Jamie asked.

“Grrrrr!” I growled only loud enough for Jamie to hear. I could have slugged him for saying that but instead I tried to play it off by saying, “Ah, it can wait. Ian’s got too much to do. He doesn’t need us hanging around bugging him.”

“Actually, I’d love to have someone to talk with while I work.” Ian said.

“You would?” I asked awkwardly.

“Only if you do one thing.” Jamie said drolly.

“What’s that?” asked Ian.

“Take ten minutes away from painting to shower!” Jamie said, while pinching his nose closed for added effect.

Ian lifted his arm and sniffed his own pit. “Oh yeah, that’s funky!”

“Yeah tell me about it!” Jamie said waiving his hand in front of his face to ward off the stench.

Ian pulled his arms back like he was about to take off running a marathon, lifted one leg into the air and announced, “And away we go!” He then race-walked into the bathroom like some kind of midday corporate jogger.

“That one is about three diapers short of a nursery.” Jamie said while twirling his finger around the side of his head.

“What?” I squawked, “Dude, you are getting weirder everyday. You know that, right?”

Jamie shrugged his shoulders. “Ah your one to talk!” he said pointing at the front of my pants.

“Son of a...” I started to say when I saw the wet spot, “You know something? It wouldn’t matter if I was wearing twenty layers of diapers and ten pairs of plastic pants, I’d still manage to have a leak!”

“Hey guys?” Ian called from inside the bathroom.

“Yo?” Jamie called back.

“I’m just spit-balling here and feel free to say no, but what would you two think if I asked you to pose for me?” Ian asked.

“WHAT?” I shouted so loud and so high that even Jamie cupped his hands over his ears.

“Well, just think about it!” Ian shouted out to us.

Jamie gave me a shove. “Come on! Let’s do it!” he said.

“ARE YOU COMPLETELY MENTAL?” I was talking loud enough that I’m sure those living in the next galaxy over could hear me. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW CREEPY THAT IS?”

Yeah I was wigging out but come on, wouldn’t you freak out if the man you had just learned was your father asked to paint a nude portrait of you?

“Come on Simon! It will be fun!” Jamie said.

“LISTEN! THERE IS NO WAY I’M LETTING MY DAD PAINT A NUDE PICTURE OF ME!” I screamed at him.

“What are you talking about?” Jamie asked with his voice growing louder too. “Who said anything about your dad painting you?”

From the bathroom there came the sound of glass smashing and something heavy hitting the floor. Jamie and I ran to Ian’s bathroom where we found him lying on the floor unconscious with shards of broken mirror all over the place. In a flash Jamie ran from Ian’s apartment only to return seconds later with his mom.

“He was going to take a shower and then we heard him fall.” Jamie shouted.

“Simon get back before you get cut!” Marsha said pushing me aside.

“Is he alright?” I asked.

“Ian?” Marsha said patting his face.

Wh-what happened?” Ian asked groggily.

Ian then grabbed his head, “Oh no,” he said looking right at me, “Simon are you ok?”

“Me? I’m not the one that took a dive in the bathroom!” I exclaimed.

“Do you want to try to sit up?” Marsha asked him.

“Yeah,” Ian answered.

“Be careful, there is glass everywhere.” Marsha warned.

Marsha and I had Ian sitting in a big overstuffed leather chair while Jamie ran back to their apartment to get the First Aid Kit. However it wasn’t needed. Once Ian was seated in the chair Marsha gave him a quick check and except for a knob on his forehead he was fine.

“Would you believe that is the third time I’ve fallen today?” Ian said.

“I told you that you were pushing yourself too hard.” Marsha scolded him.

“Mom I don’t think he needs lectured right now.” Jamie said and boy the look she shot Jamie was sure cold but it seemed to do the trick because Jamie didn’t say anything else for a while.

Despite Marsha’s repeated attempts to get Ian to go to bed for a while he refused insisting that he had to finish the painting first. Amazingly though, when Marsha tried to get us to leave Ian so that he could work in peace Ian said, “Maybe they should stick around for a while. I mean to keep an eye on me.”

Marsha surrendered, threw up her hands and started storming out of the apartment but Jamie called after her.

“Mom wait!” he said.

Marsha turned and Jamie then said, “Y-you got to tell Ian that he has to paint something to hide your c-c-c...” I thought it was funny that Jamie couldn’t bring himself to say ‘crack’ in front of his mom.

“You’re crack!” I said for him and he gave me a dirty look.

I thought Marsha was going to swallow her tongue. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Mom he’s going to send this for the whole world to see! You can’t let strangers see your c-c-c...” Jamie faltered on that word again and again I said it for him. “CRACK!”

Jamie turned and shouted at me, “STOP SAYING THAT!”

“Why?” Marsha asked looking around the edge of the canvas at her portrait. “I think I look really good!”

“Moooooooooooom!” Jamie whined, “Pllleeeaaaasssssee!”

But there was no use; Jamie was fighting a loosing battle.

Marsha wasn’t gone ten seconds before Ian clapped his hands and said, “Right then, back to work!”

I couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t actually heard what I had said before. I was sure he had but I was hoping, no praying, that he hadn’t!

Ian picked up a brush, waved it around in the air mysteriously, flipped it in the air and caught it.

“Jamie, do me a favor and get some ice.” Ian said.

“Ice? Uh, right! I’ll get some ice.” Jamie said already moving toward the end of the painting.

Jamie stopped momentarily to ask, “Uh, are you going to paint with ice?”

Ian did a half groan and half whine, “It’s for my head.” He said as he rubbed the bump that had formed when he’d head-butted the mirror.

“Oh yeah right. Uh, want it in a bag or a towel or something?” Jamie asked.

I couldn’t see the expression Ian gave Jamie but whatever it was Jamie gave a goofy grin in return and disappeared on the other side of the canvas.

“Are you really ok?” I asked.

After a moments thought he said, “Honestly Simon, I’ve been better.”

Jamie returned in quick order with a dish towel wrapper around several cubes of ice. As Ian pressed it to his head he let out a whimpering sigh.

All three of us just stood there for what seemed like ages. No one spoke, no one moved, we just stood there staring; Ian at the black area left on the canvas while Jamie and I stared at Ian.

“Uh, don’t you think it would go faster if you used paint?” Jamie said sarcastically.

“Odd thing,” Ian said in a gravely voice.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Again Ian stood there staring for several more minutes before he shrugged his shoulders, tossed the towel of ice to Jamie and said, “That’s that then!”

“What’s what?” I asked.

Ian looked at me and asked, “What’s what, what?”

“Uh, maybe we should go get Marsha again.” I tried whispering to Jamie.

“What?” Ian said again and then quickly raising his eyebrows in what we took to be understanding he said, “No! Do you think? Nah I’ll be fine!”

Jamie and I gave each other worried glances.

“Really, don’t worry about me! I’m...” but Ian didn’t finish what he was saying. Instead he picked up a brush in one hand, an enormous paint board with his other and began painting again.

After another minute or so Jamie quietly slipped behind the canvas again. At first I thought he was going to go get his mom but he returned too quickly and I figured out that he was just getting rid of the ice and towel.

I sat down in the leather chair that Ian had been sitting in and Jamie came over to join me.

“Mad, isn’t he?” Jamie whispered.

“I think he’s so tired that he doesn’t even realize that he’s tired.” I said.

When Jamie then looked me in the eyes I was sure he was going to ask me about what I had said before, about Ian being my dad but he didn’t. Instead he smiled and said, “You’ve got paint on your face.”

Instinctively I reached up to wipe off my cheek. “Must have got it there when we were helping him up from the floor.” I said.

The two of us sat there watching Ian for a good hour before Ian stepped back from the canvas and looked at us.

“So, what do you think?” Ian asked.

“About what?” Jamie said looking at the unfinished area that Ian had been working on.

Ian cocked his hip and tapped his shoe, “Will the two of you model for me?” he asked point blank.

Jamie jumped up, “Yeah!”

But I didn’t jump; I didn’t even budge an inch. I only shook my head and softly said, “I don’t want to.”

Ian looked hurt, “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to get naked.” I said so fast that the words sort of ran together.

Ian laughed; I mean really laughed.

“No, no, no, no!” he was still laughing, “I didn’t mean that I wanted you two to be nude models!”

“But,” I motioned to all the other people in the painting, “everyone else is naked.”

“No they’re not!” Jamie said pointing to a woman and a small girl sitting on top of the Chrysler building wearing Tarzan style loin cloth bikinis.

“I was thinking I could paint the two of you in your diapers.” He said pointing at Jamie with the butt end of his brush.

I was amazed that Jamie didn’t blush, not even a little bit but I sure did. My ears felt like flames were shooting out of them. I even imagined little whiffs of steam rising from the top of my burning head.

“In our diapers?” I squeaked.

“Sure, why not!” Jamie said already pulling his shirt over his head and kicking his shoes off. His left shoe only missed another of Ian’s paintings on the wall by about a foot.

“But perhaps you two should go home and get changed into dry diapers?” Ian suggested and I knew that he could see the wet spot on my pants from where my diaper had sprung a leak.

I was from top to bottom quaking with apprehension but Jamie was bound and determined that we were going to do it. Jamie pulled his shirt back on but left his shoes off. Then grabbing me by the arm he dragged me out of Ian’s, down the hall and into his apartment. Of course we didn’t say anything to Marsha about posing only in our diapers. It wasn’t really something intentional that we didn’t say anything to her; it was just because neither of us thought to tell her.

Back in Ian’s I asked, “Um, can I keep my t-shirt on?”

“Simon,” Jamie whined, “just take it off!”

Reluctantly I pulled it off and for the first time Ian got to see the healing scars on my back.

“Son of a bitch!” Ian cussed.

“Holy hell!” he cussed again and I felt like I wanted to run and hide.

“Simon I... Oh god I am just so very sorry! I...” his voice cracked, “I heard about it but...” but he wasn’t able to finish. He had tears welling up in his eyes and his chest was heaving with each labored breath he took.

“It’s cool!” Jamie said now realizing why I was so apprehensive about removing my shirt.

“Sorry, I kind of forgot.” He said to me.

It took Ian a few minutes to pull himself together.

I guess after about an hour posing for Ian I started to feel a lot more comfortable. Mostly because Ian kept making us laugh. He was acting a lot more normal and even seemed more awake. Ian had Jamie and me posing on skateboards for nearly two hours. And then he announced, “I think... Yes, I do think it’s done!”

“Us or the whole painting?” Jamie asked.

“Both!” Ian said putting down his paints and brushes and smiling bigger than I’d ever seen anyone smile.

“Can we move now?” I asked.

“Oh yes. Come, have a look.” He said.

Jamie and I ran over to the area of the huge painting where Ian had been painting our likenesses onto the canvas.

“Whoa! Would you look at that!” I exclaimed.

“That is so amazing!” Jamie said in an excited whisper.

“Why are you whispering?” Ian asked Jamie in his own whispered voice.

“I don’t know.” Jamie whispered and giggled.

“Wow look! You even did the scar on my cheek.” I said.

“And they look just like us!” Jamie added.

“Do me a favor and go get your mom! We need to celebrate!” Ian told Jamie.

“Don’t you want to get some sleep?” Jamie asked.

“Sleep? I couldn’t sleep right now if I took three bottles of sleeping pills.” Ian said with wide open eyes.

Jamie left the two of us alone again and god help me I opened my mouth and said, “You’re my real dad aren’t you?”

There it was; hanging in the air like a floating fireball of death. My words had seemed to stop time. Ian was standing there with one hand resting on the top of his head and the other pointing to the canvas. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, and wasn’t breathing.

And then in a still soft voice he said, “Yes,” and that was all that was said about it because then Jamie came running back into the room pulling his mom in behind him.

When she saw the likeness of Jamie and me she gushed; “Oh Ian they look so precious! And I can’t believe you are actually done! Oh you must be so proud!”

Ian didn’t look at her when he responded. Instead he looked right at me, gave me a small smile and said, “I am so proud.” And I knew he was talking about me and not his painting.

Marsha cooked up a quick celebration lunch while Ian cleaned up again and called his client to say that he was finished with the painting.

“They’re sending someone over day after tomorrow to roll it up and ship it out.” Ian said hanging up the phone. He then began to cry and it wasn’t tears of sorrow but of joy and stress and relief and exhaustion.

The funny thing was that half way through lunch Ian was laughing and telling us about this other piece he had painted a few years ago when he suddenly went quiet, his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell face first into his plate. At first all three of us panicked but Marsha checked and said with a bit of a nervous chuckle, “He’s only sleeping.”

It took all three of us to get Ian from the table to the sofa where we left him to sleep in peace.

 

Chapter 34

 

** I hope you have enjoyed this chapter and as always, your thoughts matter to me, so if you feel moved to do so, I would love to hear from you. [email protected] **