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
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.
Feel
the fire
The sully waters of
the Ohio
River flow steadily, snaking, bending and at times ostensibly turning back on
itself as it proceeds on its quest to pair off with the mighty Mississippi
River at the junction of three states, Kentucky, Illinois and Missouri. The
combined waters continue to flow south past Tennessee, Arkansas, and
Mississippi before cutting through Louisiana. Despite its muddy brown water,
and its sand, sludge, and gravel bars that line its plentiful crooks and
cambers many say the Mississippi is a lady whose beauty is beyond description.
She flows past countless towns and cities that owe their livelihoods to her
inexhaustible waters.
A few miles above
the Gulf of Mexico the Mississippi River begins to spill into smaller river
passages. One of the better known of these passages is the Grand Pass, which
begins near Venice, Louisiana; applie named as its streets and often
underwater. The Grand Pass splits off once into the Tiger Pass and the two
passages flow only a short time before being lost within the Gulf and eventually
the Atlantic Ocean.
The flow of the
Grand Pass and the flow of the Tiger Pass encircle a bit of land that, despite
its smallish size is credited for over 30 recorded deaths and it is widely
believed that more then 100 people have lost their lives on the island.
Officially, the
island has no name, however, the folks that live in those parts refer to it as The
Dragon Nursery or Dragon Island due to the fact that is a nesting
ground for a winged creature once believed to be extinct. No it’s not a
fire-breathing reptile, but during the spring and early summer months it rules
the skies for a hundred of miles in all directions. If you ever see just one or
two you’ll find yourself in awe of it but if you were to ever see them in mass
you might as well lay down because you’ll be dead soon enough. It is a species
of Dragon Fly that is only found living near the mouth of the Mississippi
River.
There are no
bridges to cross from the main land to Dragon Island. The only way to and from the
island is by boat. Prior to September 12, 2005 when Hurricane Katrina flooded
the Mississippi River and covered much of southern Louisiana with water, if
someone had the notion to do so, they could have walked across Dragon Island
however during the hurricane the center of the island sank beneath the water
surface leaving the island resembling more an oblong horseshoe than an island.
Long before my
arrival in Venice, Louisiana, during a particularly bad storm, a ship commanded
by Captain Benjamin Mecums had run aground while trying to navigate the flooded
mouth of the Mississippi River. Some days later, as the waters around the ship
abated, the captain and his crew were eventually forced to surrender any hope
of ever getting their ship back to sea.
It is at this point
that recorded history ends and local legends begin. Some believe that the
captain and crew died of fever; others say they died at the hands of the local
Indians and still others believe that the current residence of Venice,
Louisiana are descendant of the original crew who had taken native brides and
settled the land. Aside from myself and a few close trusted friends, no one
actually knows the true fate of the Banachelli crew except for one family whose
origins go back to Captain Benjamin Mecums.
After abandoning
his ship, he married a young native girl and settled down on what is now known
as The Dragon Nursery.
The entire island
has been in the Mecums family ever since. Though the history books don’t
mention it, Benjamin Mecums was one of the few black men to ever own black
slaves. He became a cotton farmer, and used it to produce what was soon known
as the finest cotton diapers to come out of the Deep South.
For thirty years he
grew cotton until he died of smallpox in 1905. By then an entire band of Mecums
populated the island, and were quite adept at growing and producing cloth
diapers. The Mecums were renowned for their diapers, though notoriety was not
something they required, nor wanted for themselves. They were cagey and
secluded, immensely secretive and intensely devoted to keeping others from
intruding into their little part of the world and disrupting their livelihood.
Throughout the generation they continued to present themselves as simple cotton
farms, and it was well known that they produced cotton and were prosperous. The
Mecums Cloth Diaper Company was very noticeable on the mainland just across the
Tiger Pass. They professed to be lawful citizens, attending church and sending
their kids to school but they were anything but lawful.
Prior to the
invention of disposable diapers by Marion Donovan in 1950, Mecums Cotton
Diapers could not be produced fast enough. They were shipped up the Mississippi
and hauled by train, as far north as Boston. During the height of the family
run business the Mecums family and their company was managed by a miserly woman
named Buttercup Mecums, great-great-great-great granddaughter of Captain
Benjamin Mecums. Buttercup was trained at a young age that the greatest
earnings came from not paying taxes which was easy to do when dealing only in
cold, hard cash. And thanks to Buttercups stern business sense, the family
fortune grew like never before.
Though it could
never be proved, it was widely believe that anyone with any amount of power
within the region had been bought, bribed or blackmailed by the Mecums. Anyone
that ever tried to stand against the Mecums generally turned up missing or had
an over-night change of heart. For
the better part of the fifth and sixth decade of the nineteenth century, the
Mecums ran southern Louisiana by filling the elected officials’ pockets. It was
rumored that they bought elections outright by secretly and generously funding
their own politicians.
Toward the latter part of the 1960’s the
demand for cotton diapers was on a steady decline as disposable diapers were
gaining notoriety. Since generations of Mecums had been raised and taught to
deal outside the law, they began to branch out into other lines of business.
Before long many of the Mecums began to move away from their island and migrate
farther and farther north opening a full range of shops and businesses and
though a few actually ran honest, reputable businesses, most continued their
shadowy dealing even into the twenty-first century.
In the spring of 1961 a young Mecums boy
graduated high school and the next day was one of the first to leave Louisiana
to seek his fortune in New York City. He didn’t quite make it to New York but
instead settled in a part of Ohio where his family name still had some
influence and commanded a measure of respect. With his family name he managed
to procure a job within the local police force; a job perfectly suited toward
his inherited abilities. He met
and married the daughter of the police chief and in due time his wife gave
birth to a beautiful baby-girl; they named her Yolanda which means modest
violet flower. Yolanda eventually grew up to follow in her fathers’ footsteps
and prove her name wrong.
** As always, your thoughts matter to me
very, very much, so please send any comments, questions, suggestions, or
criticism to me at: [email protected] **