A word from the Author:
I took over a year off from working on the
Simon’s Journal series. Actually, when I finished writing Thirteen Sails I
thought I was done with Simon and his friends but as the weeks and months
passed I found myself thinking more and more about him. It took me a while to
realize that I had to write at least one more story for him. It took a few more
months before I finally settled on a plot that would interest both me and
hopefully you the reader. In the end I think I have come up with a story that
honors the previous novels while bringing a fresh new adventure to the series.
In all of my stories and novels I endeavor
to keep them as real and based in reality as possible given the subject matter.
With that being said, this will be my first attempt at drawing on folklore and
urban myths to build my story on. However, many around the world believe they are
very much a part of reality.
Please note that I when it comes to my
writing I live by Jesse Stuart’s mantra, “Write
something to suit yourself and many people will like it; write something to
suit everybody and scarcely anyone will care for it.” First and foremost I write for myself, for my
own enjoyment and pleasure. Writing to me is at times therapy, a way to escape reality
or to unwind after a crazy day. In the past I have allowed myself to be swayed
by popular opinion as well as by death threats by fans (yeah I’ve actually had
a few of those) but in the end I am the one I have to please. That being said,
I take seriously the views and feelings of my readers. I know that for many of
you Simon and his friends are not just some made up characters but real live
boys. If I am truthful, I would have to say that in many ways I feel the same
way about them. There have been many times I have sat here laughing and crying
over my keyboard at they events taking place in Simon’s life. I have made
myself sick, lost sleep and even fallen into a pit of depression. So believe me
when I say that I feel and know your pain. With that said, please feel free to
write to me and tell me what you like or dislike about the stories. I promise that
if you are patent with me, I will read and respond to everyone that writes to
me at [email protected].
ADMONITION:
The following narrative is nearly a complete work
of fiction. Some events and characters were pulled from real life. In those
cases they have been distorted, enhanced and/or warped to better fit with my desires.
Any other similarity to actual individuals living or dead is completely
unintentional!
WARNING:
The story you are about to read contains
diaper use, violence, adult language and strong sexual content of both a
heterosexual and homosexual nature. 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.
This is the continued story of Simon’s Journal.
Before you begin this fourth volume in this series,
I highly recommend that you read the first three volumes
as each picks up where the previous left off.
Simon's Journal
Volume IV
Thirteen
Summer Days
A New Beginning
Written by Danny
Introduction
I am only thirteen, but in those few short
years I have seen a lot and done a lot; some good and some not to good. I’ve
had amazing adventures that have taken me from the suburbs of south-west
You’d think I would have had enough
excitement and adventure for more than one lifetime, but not me. When all was
said and done and I had a chance at a semi-normal life, I chose to leave that
life behind and strike out for new adventures in unknown places. However, when
one allows their destiny to be determined by the winds of fate, one must be
willing to face whatever might come; whether good or bad or somewhere in that
gray area between the two...
Chapter – 1
Friday
“BJ!” I shouted, but he didn’t respond
because he was wearing his headphones and jamming to his mp3 player again.
I reached out and touched his shoulder. You
would have thought I had attached a car battery to his nipples. He jumped about
six feet in the air, spun around and then fell backward onto his butt.
“Damn Simon you scared the crap out of me!”
BJ shouted.
With my hands I motioned for him to take off
his headphones which he did.
I grinned mischievously and asked, “Did I
really or is that just a figure of speech?”
He cocked his head to one side like a dog and
grunted out a confused sounding, “Huh?”
“You said I scared the crap out of you.” I reminded
him.
BJ gave me that smile of his which is his way
of saying I said something funny but he was too uncomfortable to come up with a
retort.
“HOLY FREAKING COW! YOU GOT BRACES!” I
shouted.
BJ instinctively closed his lips to hide his
braces.
“When did you get braces?” I asked.
“Last month.” He said.
“No kidding!” I said and then offered him a
hand to help him to his feet.
As soon as he was up he threw his arms around
me and hugged me in macho guy fashion.
“When did you get home from the hospital?” he
asked.
“A few days ago.” I told him, “And it wasn’t
a hospital; it was a Rehab Retreat Camp.
“So what’s with your voice?” I asked.
BJ shrugged and dismissively said, “Puberty I
guess.”
He then thumped himself in the head, “Whoa,
whoa, whoa! Back the train up.” He put both hands on my shoulders, “You have
been home for days and this is the first time you’ve come to see your best
friend?”
I honestly felt bad and explained, “Don’t
feel bad. I haven’t seen anyone else either. I needed some time... you know...
to get my head cleared.”
He let go of my shoulders so that he could
stuff his headphones into his pocket along with the mp3 player.
“I thought that is why your parents made you
go to that place.” He said.
“Yeah well it is complicated.” I told him
hoping he would drop it; but he didn’t.
“Simon?” he said almost singing my name.
I mimicked him with, “BJ!”
“Please don’t make me kick your butt again.”
He teased, but I also knew he could do it.
Where as I had not grown so much as a
fraction of an inch in the past year, BJ had skyrocketed to be a full head,
shoulders and chest taller than me now, but he was still as skinny as a flag
pole. He looked like someone had taken his twelve-year-old body and stretched
it out a couple feet. He looked goofy, but being the best-friend that I was, I
never teased him about his gangliness ... yeah right!
“Do me a favor and turn sideways.” I said
while trying my best not to smile and give myself away.
He did and asked, “Why?”
“I just wanted to see if you still vanished
from a side view.” I said with a laugh.
That did it. BJ kicked out a leg, curled it
behind my own legs and shoved me to the ground before I had a chance to react
at all. He then sat on my thighs, grabbed both of my arms and pinned me to the
ground.
“Say BJ is the best.” He commanded.
“No! Get off!” I laughed and squirmed
uselessly.
He now had both of my arms pinned using just
one of his arms and with his free hand he pulled up the front of my shirt,
exposing my pink belly.
“Don’t you dare!” I warned, laughed and thrashed
harder trying to escape.
That was all the prompting he needed. He
began to give me an Indian Red-Belly which is when you start slapping someone’s
tummy until it turns bright-bright red.
“GET OFF OR I WILL TELL EVERYONE YOU PLAY
WITH DOLLS!” I laughed and screamed.
“They aren’t dolls! They are super hero action
figures!” he said with an especially hard slap to my stomach.
“BJ Otteranski!” came a sharp, shrill cry
from their front porch, “You let him up this minute!”
It was his mother who’d come to my rescue,
but BJ didn’t get up. Not right away anyway. Thankfully he did stop giving me
the Indian Red-Belly.
“Hi Mrs. Otteranski!” I said while still
pinned to the ground and laughing.
“BJ, get off him right now or so help me.”
She shouted and it sounded like she was getting closer.
BJ rolled off me and continued rolling across
the grass to keep from having his mom catch him.
“It’s OK Mrs. Otteranski, I was about to take
him down anyway.” I said with a chuckle.
She lifted me to my feet and hugged me so
tightly that I thought she was going to squeeze the stuffing right out of me.
Then she did something that totally surprised me. She released me from her hug,
grabbed my arm, spun me sideways and gave me three hard pops right on the butt.
Granted, had I not been well protected back there it would have hurt but still
it was a surprise to be sure.
“That is for scaring us, your parents and
everyone else young man!” she said and then hugged me again... only harder.
“HA! HA!” BJ laughed mockingly at me, “Mom
spanked your butt!”
“Just you wait!” She said with a warning
finger pointed at him, “You keep going like you have been and your turn will be
coming soon enough.”
I looked deeply into Mrs. Otteranski’s eyes
as I said, “I’m sorry for scaring everyone and for being such a butt when I got
back.”
Kissing my cheek she said, “You are
forgiven.”
She then gave me one more swat this one
landing on my bare right thigh and stung something awful.
“If you ever do something like that again I
will spank your bare butt so you won’t be able to sit for a month!” she said
smiling.
I returned the smile and hugged her neck
before she stood up and pointed at BJ again, who was still keeping his
distance, “Behave!”
He grinned this wide, toothy, innocent grin,
which seemed to appease his mother ‘cause she went back inside.
No sooner was she out of sight then I lunged
at BJ. He hadn’t been expecting me to move so fast, so when he hit the ground
he let out a funny sort of, “Yaaaoooya!” sound.
I gave him one solid jab to the ribs with a
raised knuckle and then just as quickly as I had attacked, I rolled off him,
did a backwards somersault and ended up on me feet, ready for him to counter
attack, but he didn’t. Instead he lay on his back on the grass, propped up on
his elbows and looking at me with surprise.
“Where’d you learn to do that?” he asked.
I pointed my nose in the air and stuck out my
chin with pride as I answered, “I might have learned a thing or two about
fighting while I was gone.”
“They taught you to fight at the hospital?”
he asked.
“No! I learned from a friend on my boa...” I
stopped, cleared my throat, “And I wasn’t in a hospital!” I said with a hint of
anger peppering my voice.
“Oh that little guy you were telling me
about?” BJ asked.
“Yeah, Fyer; he taught us all how to defend
ourselves.” I said.
BJ’s face then went blank and I could tell he
was having a thought.
“What?” I asked.
“Do your mom and dad know you are here?” he
asked.
I grimaced, bent over and pulled down my
right sock to reveal an ankle monitor bracelet.
“Can’t go anywhere without mom, dad, my
probation officer and probably the FBI knowing where I am.” I said to him. “If
I am leaving the house I have to call a special number and tell them where I am
going, how long I will be gone and when I will be back home.”
“Geeze man!” BJ exclaimed as he sat up Indian
style and peered at the bright yellow gadget.
“How long do you have to wear it?” he asked.
“Until I get off probation I guess.”
“How long will that be?” he asked.
I sighed as I answered, “Until I turn
eighteen.”
“EIGHTEEN?!” BJ shouted and startled me, which
made him giggle knowing he got me.
“Why so long?” He asked.
I shrugged.
“Isn’t that kind of harsh?” he asked.
I shrugged again.
He swung at me, however he was too far away
to have had a chance of hitting me, but that hadn’t been his intent at all. He
just wanted to get my attention, which he had.
“I’m not supposed to talk about it with
anyone.” I said, which was a bold-faced lie, but I was hoping BJ would buy into
it. He didn’t and he poured on the guilt.
“When did that ever stop you from telling
your best friend anything?” he had said.
I hadn’t been looking at him when he said it;
I had been bent over making sure my sock was completely covering the
bright-yellow monitoring device.
“I’ve seen those on TV before, but they
looked bigger and were gray or silver or something.” He said.
“Yeah that is what I had to wear when I was
at The Ranch.” I said, “But when I got home they put this on me instead. The
guy said that this tracks me by satellite, kind of like those things they put
in cars now.”
“Wait, what is The Ranch?” he asked.
“That is the name of the rehab retreat camp I
was at.” I told him.
I bent over to readjust my sock again.
“Gosh Simon! What did you do that was so bad
that they have spy satellites watching you all the time?” he asked.
I shrugged once more and said, “I can’t talk
about it.”
BJ made a move like he was going to get up
and attack me again. I jumped backward about four feet right into a rose bush
which stabbed my bare legs and made me cry out.
“SON OF A...” I started to shout.
“SIMON DAVID LEONARD!” I heard BJ’s mom shout
from somewhere inside the house and stopped myself before I said the dreaded
B-word.
“Sorry Mrs. Otteranski, but BJ pushed me into
the rose bush!” I lied.
“I DID NOT YOU LITTLE LIER!” BJ shouted as he
was trying to free my shorts from the bush.
Right then a car pulled into the drive way
and we both looked up to see that his father was arriving home from work. He
pulled his car around the house and into the garage. When he came back around,
BJ and I had managed to free me from the bush without causing any blood loss,
but dang my legs got scratched up!
BJ’s dad walked right up to me, scooped me
into a bear hug and shook me from side to side while growling like a bear.
“How’s my favorite son?” he asked.
BJ made a funny sort of sound as he began to
object, “Heeeellooooo! Real son...standing right heeeeeerrrrrre!”
Mr. Otteranski looked to BJ and played like
he hadn’t seen BJ at all.
“OH! Well hello son!”
“Yeah right! And I love you too, DAD!” BJ
scoffed and laughed at the same time.
I know, I have probably penned this before,
but it might be worthwhile repeating: you see, BJ’s folks are more like a
second set of parents to me and my parents are the same way with BJ. It’s been
that way for so long, that I can hardly remember life any other way. I love
BJ’s mom and dad just as much as I love my own. BJ’s parents had been the ones
that drove mom, dad and me to The Ranch, so they knew all about the place and
why I ended up there.
“How was The Ranch?” he asked.
“Oh you know; it was just like summer camp!”
I joked and Mr. Otteranski knew I wasn’t being serious.
As he put me back down on my feet I started
to say, “Um, sorry about what...” but he didn’t let me finish.
He grabbed my chin and made me look him in
the eyes when he said, “I love you and I have already forgotten all about it!”
That did it; I started to get all misty, but
then he faked a jab to the gut and told me to “Cowboy up!” which was kind of
like saying “Stop crying and be man”, but in a cooler, kinder and less critical
sort of way.
I had to shake my head at him and tell him
“No, I need to tell you that I am sorry and I am! I was a jerk to you and mom (I was referring to BJ’s mom just then)
and I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I feel horrible about it and...”
Mr. Otteranski knelt down on one knee and
gave me another hug except this one wasn’t a playful bear hug. It was a long
time since he had hugged me like that and once more the tears welled up in my
eyes.
As he was letting go of me again, BJ, using
his knee, clipped me in the back of my right knee, nearly causing me to fall.
It’s funnier if you can do it to both knees ‘cause the person almost always
falls, but this time BJ’s dad caught me. I swung backward with my elbow only
missing BJ’s stomach by a fraction of an inch.
BJ’s dad talked with us for a few minutes
before he went inside the house and left BJ and me alone again on their front
lawn.
I looked at my watch and told BJ I had to go
home to check in.
“Already?” he asked.
“Only had an hour.” I sighed.
“But you’ve not been here an hour!” he said.
“Yeah, well it took me a while to build up my
nerve to talk to you.” I said back.
BJ gave me a playful shove, “You are such a
dork!”
He then shouted in to his parents that he was
walking me back to my house and his mom hollered back for us to wait a minute.
She came out carrying what I guessed by the shape and size was a pie covered
with aluminum foil. It turned out that I was right; it was a fresh baked Apple
Crumb pie which my father absolutely loves. It was even warm to the touch.
BJ and I arrived back at my house right when
my watch alarm went off telling me I had fifteen minutes before I was due to
check in. We walked in and were greeted by mom and dad, who both were talking
with BJ while I went to the kitchen to make my phone call.
I returned to the living room and saw that
Dad was already picking at the pie with his fingers.
“Are you boys going back outside?” Mom asked.
Though BJ looked like he wanted to, I shook
my head and said, “Nah, think we’ll hang out in my room for a while.”
I think mom and dad were just happy that I
wasn’t sitting around the house moping like I had been for the past few days’.
“You boys want some pie?” Dad asked.
“Nah, I’m pied out.” BJ confessed and I
declined some too.
“Maybe after dinner then.” Mom suggested.
Dad balked at this with, “What makes you
think there will be any left come dinner time?”
At that, mom took the pie away from dad and
he followed her to the kitchen protesting the abduction of his precious pie.
While we headed down the hallway to my room
Mom shouted after us, “BJ sweetheart, will you be here long enough to join us
for dinner?”
BJ looked at me to see if I minded him
sticking around and I answered for him, “Yes he will.”
“OK, I’ll call your mom and let her know you
are staying.” Mom said.
“You’ve got the best room!” BJ said upon
entering behind me.
“You should know. You helped make it like
this.” I said to him.
“Yeah I have only seen it a couple times
since then.” He said.
I chuckled, “Yeah me too.”
He started to close the door.
“No, leave it open.” I said.
“How come?” he asked.
I plopped myself down on my bed and started untying
my shoes.
“‘Cause I am not allowed to close it.” I told
him.
He seemed stunned by my response and asked,
“Really? Why?”
“It’s a long story.” I said with a groaning
sigh.
“That’s twice you’ve tried to side step on
“Touch me and I will feed you your own testicles!”
I joked, but it worked ‘cause he stopped in his tracks.
He dropped his hands and said, “You’re sick!”
“Yeah, well I got it from you.” I said.
Then changing the subject, I asked, “Want to
see something cool?”
“Yeah sure.” He said.
I kicked off my shoes and using my feet I
slid them under the edge of the bed before going to my shelves and retrieving a
small coin and tossed it to him. I had only been a couple feet from him when I
gave it a soft little underhand toss, but still he fumbled it. It hit the side
of his hand, bounced off and fell to the floor. He quickly recovered it and
just as quickly apologized.
“Sorry; wasn’t expecting you to throw it at
me.”
He began to inspect it and seen that on one
side was a cross with the number 60 behind it. On the reverse side was a saying
wrote in tiny—tiny lettering.
‘TO
THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE’
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s a coin they gave me about a week ago.”
I said.
He then asked, “What’s it for?”
“It means I have been clean for 60 days. Well
more than 60 now.” I said.
BJ didn’t understand and I had to explain to
him what I meant by clean.
“I don’t mean clean like taking a bath I mean
clean like I haven’t had any drugs.”
That is when I found out that BJ had not been
told everything about why I had been sent to The Ranch.
“Dang BJ I didn’t know that you didn’t know.”
I said, “I was seriously messed up when I came back a few months ago.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Yeah, well you have seen how I was.” I said
knowing that BJ remembered full well how big of a jerk I was when I came back.
“It wasn’t the only reason I left, but it was
one of the biggest reasons which was to get my hands on this one kind of drug
again.
“You mean the one that fat lady forced you
all to drink?” he asked.
“You know about that?” I asked with no small
amount of amazement.
“Uh, yeah! You told me about it while we were
at the beach last year. Plus,
“I did?” I asked, honestly not remembering.
“Do you even remember being at the beach with
me and my parents?” he asked.
“Was Tom there?” I asked.
BJ cocked an eyebrow, “Uh yeah!” he said in
such a way as if to say “DUH!”
As though someone had just turned on a TV
within my head memories of our beach stay came flooding back.
“What?” BJ asked when he saw my facial
expression.
“I... I just can’t believe I had forgotten
about that until now.” I said while looking at the floor.
After a moment I shook my head as though I
were trying to change the channel on the TV within my mind.
“Anywho!” I said, purposefully saying it
wrong, “The reason I wanted to find the stash of the drug she had made was
because one of the drugs that was in it was opium.”
“Do you know anything about that stuff?” I
asked him and he rattled the stones in his head by shaking his head vigorously.
“Well, it is highly addictive and in larger
quantities it can really screw up your head; not just while on the drug but forever.
It can even kill you. Besides turning me into an opium junky, there were many
other negative side effects from all the other drugs in the concoction.”
“Dang Simon I didn’t have a clue. Really!” he
said with exasperation at his own blindness.
“Yeah, well I’m feeling much better now. And
I’m even taking some new medications from the doctor that will help me with
some of the problems the drugs caused.” I said.
He sat down at Jamie’s desk and asked, “Like
what?”
“Like maybe you didn’t notice, but I am sort
of shorter now than everyone else our age.” I said.
“Yeah, well I kind of like you short. It’s
like I have my very own living action figure.” BJ said and it took every bit of
willpower to keep from jumping off my bed and pouncing on him. I settled for
giving him the evil eye which he seemed to relish in receiving from me.
“What else?” he asked.
“Can we change the subject?” I pleaded.
“Sure.” He said, “We don’t have to talk about
that stuff if it is uncomfortable for you. So what was it like at that hospital?”
“Grrrrr!” I growled at him which only made
the big doofus laugh.
“Well, why won’t you tell me about it?” he
asked.
I threw myself back on the bed, grabbed the
pillow and tried to smoother myself.
“Need help?” he asked.
“NO!” I shouted through the pillow.
Thank God for diapers ‘cause when I wasn’t
looking, he tossed something from off my brother’s desk and nailed me right in
the no-no spot. If I hadn’t been wearing a thick cloth diaper it probably would
have hurt. As it was I got a nice shooting pain for about half a minute. He was
laughing his big head off and I whipped the pillow at him, but missed by a
mile.
“Short and you throw like a girl.” He teased.
I tried not too, but I smiled at him. BJ has
a way of making me laugh when he is torturing me.
“So?” he asked.
“So what?” I asked back.
He picked up the pillow and tossed it back,
“So are you going to tell me about The Ranch or are you going to make me ask
you twenty more times?”
I jammed the pillow under my head and groaned
loudly, “OH ALRIGHT!”
When I looked over at him he had this self-righteous
glowing aura all around him. I was going to say something mean, but chose
instead to say something really unexpected.
“You really do look good with your hair cut
short like that.”
“Don’t even try to sweet talk your way out of
telling me!” he said and then countered with, “And you look loads better with
that ponytail cut off!”
I reached up with both hands and ran my
fingers through my hair.
“On my very first day at The Ranch I was
taken into a big gray room and they took all my clothes and everything I had
brought with me. They went through everything to make sure I hadn’t brought any
drugs or anything else that wasn’t allowed. While they were searching all my
stuff, this one guy who at first I hated, but later I got to know him and he
wasn’t such a bad guy; anyway he cut off all my hair right then and there.”
“Boy, I bet you were mad?” BJ asked.
“Actually I don’t remember any of that. It is
just what I was later told had happened.” I said.
BJ asked yet again, “So what was it like? I
mean being at The Ranch.”
With a surrendering sigh I said, “I wasn’t
kidding when I said it was like camp. Only it wasn’t at the same time. We
didn’t ride horses, shoot bows and arrows or make stupid little craft projects
out of Popsicle sticks or macaroni. But we did sleep in cabins, go on hikes and
play some physical type games. Those parts were cool, but there was also calisthenics
in the very early mornings, one-on-one counseling three times a week and group sessions
every day, plus Chapel three times a day.
“You had to go to church?” he asked.
“Well it wasn’t like church really.” I
struggled with how best to describe it.
“It was like a big meeting room with no walls,
but it did have a roof and a place where they preached from. It was actually
kind of cool ‘cause though we were protected from the rain and sun we were
still outdoors.”
I began to giggle.
“What’s so funny?” He asked.
“I just remember this one evening.” I began,
“My cabin was late getting to last Chapel ‘cause someone had put a stick
against our cabin door and we couldn’t get out. We had to send our smallest guy
out the back window to open the door from the outside.”
“What made you think of that?” he asked.
“No! That wasn’t what I was thinking about.” I
said. “That was just why we were late, but when we got there the place was
totally empty, yet all the lights were on.”
“Was that weird?” BJ asked.
“Yeah really weird, but then we saw everyone
down by the river all waving at us to come to them. They were shouting too, but
we couldn’t hear them. And then we realized why everyone was down there and not
in the chapel.”
“Why?” BJ asked sounding like he was on the
edge of his seat.
“Bees!” I said, “Hundreds of them!”
“Oh crap!” BJ exclaimed.
“Yeah, well one stung our cabin counselor and
then we all saw them like this dark cloud and we took off running like... well
like we were being chased by bees.”
“That was the only time we had chapel service
down by the river.” I said.
“Yeah ok, but you still had to have it three
times a day?” he asked with a sickened expression.
“Well, the morning service was really more
like a quiet time, where we had to read our bibles, pray quietly or spend the
time memorizing verses. Then we got to go have breakfast, followed by different
activities each morning. Sometimes they were fun, but most of the time they
were boring or just plain painful. That is only if it wasn’t our day for our
one-on-one. Mine were always in the morning, but some had theirs later in the
afternoon or evening after dinner.”
BJ shifted in the chair and listened intently
as I went on.
“Before lunch we went back to the Chapel to
hear that day’s announcements and then we heard a short bit of preaching from
different people. Sometimes it was a staff member who preached and sometimes
they would let some of the more senior campers preach. Every now and then we
had preachers or Evangelists come, just to visit and preach. Those were always
good.
He nodded and I saw that BJ was about to say something.
Reading his thoughts I said, “No, I never preached. I would have died if they
made me get up there in front of everyone like that.”
That seemed to satisfy his curiosity and he
went back into listening mode.
“Did you know that it was
I took a momentary mental detour as I asked,
“You still see much of
BJ took a second before he answered, “Yeah, all
the time. He slept over again last weekend and he was over earlier today. We’ve
been building a go-cart in the garage.”
“Really? Why didn’t you show me when I was
there?” I asked.
“‘Cause you said you had to come check in.”
he said.
My only reply was to say, “Oh.”
“Wanna know about Runt?” he asked.
I shook my head softly, “Already do, except I
didn’t hear how long he will be in jail.”
“He’s not in jail!” BJ said, “I mean he was,
but now he’s up at the hospital in
I looked up at BJ with both surprise and
maybe a little bit of joy. I knew the hospital he spoke of only because it had
been suggested that I get put there.
“Are you serious?” I said not sure if I
believed him or not.
“
“Good!” I said without even trying to hide my
true feelings.
“
He then scratched his belly and said, “OK,
enough about everyone else. I want to hear more about you at that camp.”
“Thank you.” I said.
“What for?” BJ asked.
“For not calling it a hospital again.” I
said.
“That really bother you?” he asked.
I nodded, “Yes.”
“Good!” he said with a smirk.
I continued where I had left off.
“Right after lunch we always had group time.
At first I didn’t do too much talking in our circle, but after about the third
week I started getting into it; mostly because I figured out that, if I ever
wanted to come home again, I better get with the program.”
“Program?” BJ asked softly.
“Ummmm, like doing the stuff I was supposed
to be doing there. Talking about my feelings and the junk that happened. That
sort of stuff and junk.”
“Stuff and Junk. Got it!” BJ said with an
amusing little snort.
BJ again looked like he was going to say
something but I jumped in with, “Do you want to hear about this or are you
going to keep interrupting me?”
“I didn’t say a word!” he defended.
“Yeah, well shut up anyway.” I snapped, but
not really serious or anything; he knew I was teasing.
“Anyway, after group we either took part in
some sort of activity or went to our one-on-one meeting for the afternoon
people. Afternoon activities were usually better than the morning ones ‘cause
it was warmer out and the grass wasn’t all wet with morning dew like it always
was when we were doing calisthenics.”
I sighed hard.
“What?” he asked.
“I really hated getting up every stinking
morning before the sun to do calisthenics.” I told him.
Once again BJ looked like he wanted to ask a
question or say something.
“What?” I asked almost as though I were
getting annoyed with him. I wasn’t really, but I made him think I was.
“Nothing, go ahead.” He said.
“Dinner was always kind of fancy. Well, as
fancy as you can get in a camp like setting. We all had to put on clean shirts
and pants and it was always a kind of meal like at home.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked.
“You know, like stuff you have to eat with a
fork. Roasts and veggies. A few times we had grilled fish and corn on the cob.
That sort of stuff.”
“So lunch and breakfasts weren’t like that
then?” he asked.
“Nah, most of the time for lunch we had stuff
like sandwiches, wraps, hotdogs or hamburgers. You know, like stuff you eat
with your hands.” I said.
“Oh and we had tons of Tatter Tots!” BJ knows
I love Tatter Tots; especially with a bit of salt and ketchup.
He smiled knowingly and let me continue once
again.
“Oh yeah, before each meal we also had to
pray, someone different was always called on to pray and bless the food. I only
had to do it once the whole time I was there and that was on my very last day.
I thought I would freak out when I had to do it, but it turned out not to be
such a big deal.”
“I don’t think I could do that.” BJ added.
“Everyone had to recite a bible verse
together after we prayed.” I said.
At that, I stood up from the bed which caught
BJ totally by surprise. I stood at perfect attention with my eyes forward and
recited from memory.
"Philippians 4:13. I can do all things
through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13.”
“Whoa!” BJ exclaimed, “I could never remember
that!”
I smiled and sat back down with one foot on
the floor and the other on the bed.
“Yeah well, say it three times a day for over
two months and you will never forget it.” I said.
“Anyway, after dinner there was usually group
time for some of us and for some it was free time. The last service of the day
was always right before bedtime. The camp director always preached at the last
service and afterward we could come up to pray with one of the staff just one-on-one
or sometimes two or three of them would pray with just one of us if we needed
that sort of thing. I got lots of praying for me like that.”
I repositioned myself on the bed to make
myself more comfortable as I continued.
“By the time we got out of evening Chapel it
was mostly dark and we had to walk back to our cabins in the dark. I never much
cared for that part ‘cause we were in the woods and all. Lots of creepy
crawlies and critters come out when it gets dark you know.”
BJ
finally spoke up by asking, “Can I ask something else?”
“Sure.” I told him.
“So was that how everyday went?” he asked.
“Well most of the time; except for the
weekends. Weekends there were no group or one-on-one sessions, but we still had
to go to Chapel three times a day. And once we got with the program and proved
we were really trying; then we’d get to earn weekend field trips, which were
always so cool.”
“Really?” BJ asked, “Like what sort of field
trips?”
“Well, my first one I got to go on was my
fifth Saturday there and we went on a canoe trip down a river that took all day
long. We started before it got light and we stopped to do our Chapel times
beside the river and to eat breakfast and lunch. Except those Chapel times were
different. Nobody preached. Instead we took turns reading from the Bible and
then talking about what we thought it meant. My canoe was the only one that
didn’t get turned over. Not even one time, but everyone else did at least once
and some couldn’t stay in their canoes no matter how much they tried. It got
funny after a while.
Oh and this one time we went on this fairy
ride that had a glass bottom and we could see all the really cool fish as they
swam under us. Did you know that there is a fish with a mouth like a duck?”
BJ shook his head.
“Yeah, all the scientists thought that it was
ex-ext...”
“Extinct?” BJ said for me.
“Yeah that,” I said and continued right on
with what I was saying, “for thousands of years, then someone caught one right
here in the Valley. Since then lots of people have seen or caught them while
fishing. We actually saw two of those, which the guide on the boat said was totally
amazing. He said he had been doing the fairy boats for five years and never
once saw one, then that day we all seen two of them. We also saw a few small
freshwater sharks. I didn’t know there were sharks that didn’t live in oceans, but
there sure are. And we saw the biggest catfish I ever seen in my life. It was
almost as big as me.” I said.
“So it wasn’t very big then?” BJ joked.
“I’ll make you pay for that one later.” I warned
him.
“The field trip parts sound cool.” BJ said,
“Maybe if you are allowed; later this summer we can go canoeing or something
like that.”
“That would be cool!” I told him.
“Yeah, well like I said, sometimes it was
cool at the camp, but other times it wasn’t.” I added.
“So, did they really make you talk about all
the stuff you told me about?” he asked.
I nodded, “Pretty much.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
I shrugged, “I dunno. Guess I mean, that I
ain’t done working on me.”
BJ got that confused look again.
“I mean I still have to go to counseling and
stuff, even though I am home.” I clarified.
“Oh, you do?” he asked.
“Yep.” I said.
“He then added, “
“Really?” I said ‘cause I hadn’t known that
about
BJ leaned forward, putting his elbows on his
knees and asked, “What about the whole God and praying and church thing? You
still got to go to church three times a day?”
I chuckled. “Nah, I don’t have to, but I do
want to. I am going to church on Sunday. Dad said he would take me to church.”
“With
“No, I am not allowed to talk with
“Your parents say that?” he asked.
“Nah, my probation officer did.” I told him.
“Actually, I am not allowed to talk with
anyone from the...” I trailed off for a minute before saying, “From before on
my...”
“Are you trying to say from that ship?” he
asked.
I nodded and then he asked, “Does that mean your
brother too?”
“Well, actually that is kind of a big mess
still. I mean, I sort of messed stuff up with him and Marsha when I got back
before. They are coming over tomorrow but my probation officer will be here, as
well as Tom.”
“Tom is back?” BJ asked with excitement.
“Yeah, well he never really went away. He was
in the hospital for a while, but he’s been out for a few months now. He came to
see me after I had been at The Ranch for a little over a week. But I wasn’t
doing so well just yet and we kind of had a few words. Actually I cussed him
out for dragging me back to
“No way!” BJ laughed, “You really kicked him
in the nads?”
I nodded again, “Yeah, but like I said, I
don’t remember any of it. Actually, there is a lot of stuff that I don’t
remember. I don’t remember but a few things from my first two weeks at camp and
there is a lot of stuff from before which I have trouble remembering.”
“How come?” he asked concernedly.
“Well, I was coming off the drugs and frankly
when I saw what some of the others had to go through, I wouldn’t want to
remember. Actually the doctors said that is what opium does. It kills off parts
of your brain. I guess I was really messed up there for a while.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You ever see a movie called The Basketball
diaries?” I asked.
“Uh yeah, you and me watched it here in your
room, remember?” he said.
“Uh, oh yeah.” I said, even though I didn’t remember
that.
“Well Leonardo Dicaprio did a good job of
acting ‘cause that is exactly what it is like when...” I wasn’t able to finish
what I was saying.
“You ok?” BJ asked when he seen me wiping at
my eyes.
“Yeah.” I said even though I wasn’t.
“So what do you think will happen tomorrow
when they come over?” BJ asked after allowing me time to regain my composure.
“You mean Marsha and Jamie? Well, I hope they
will let me apologize. But dad told me I said and did some pretty bad stuff.” I
told him.
“I don’t suppose you want to tell me about
that, do you?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Yeah that is cool.” BJ said, “Oh and here
you go.”
He tossed my 60 day coin to me and I got up
to return it to my shelves.
“You should keep that forever.” BJ said.
“Oh no, I will get to trade it in for a 90 day
coin in about three weeks and I get a new one every thirty days until I get a
one year coin. Then after that I get a new coin each year.” I told him.
“Sheesh Simon! How long will you have to keep
that up?” he asked.
“For as long as it takes I guess.” I said.
Mom shouted down the hallway to let us know
that dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes and that we should get ourselves
cleaned up. I looked down at my hands and saw I had grass stains on my palms
from where BJ and I had been wrestling on his lawn. I then looked at my knees
and they too were showing signs of green.
Before we headed for the bathroom, BJ asked
one more question.
“So are you better now? I mean you don’t
still want to take that junk anymore, do you?”
At first I didn’t answer. Not because I
didn’t know the answer, but because I didn’t want to have to tell him the
truth.
BJ read my mind and said, “You really do?”
I hesitantly nodded.
“Boy Simon. Even after everything you went
through?” he asked.
“When I got home I did one thing I wasn’t supposed
to do. I contacted Fyer and told him where I had hid all of it on my...”
BJ got this surprised expression.
I stood up and pointed at him, “Promise you
won’t tell anyone that I talked to Fyer?”
“Why?” he asked.
“‘Cause firstly Tom would probably skin me
‘cause he wants to know where my... I mean...” I growled with frustration
before saying, “And secondly because no one knows that I know how to contact
Fyer on the...”
“Why can’t you say it?” BJ asked.
“Say what?” I asked knowing full well what he
meant.
“Boat or ship!” he said almost like he was
spitting the words at me.
I looked at BJ. I mean really looked deeply
into his eyes when I answered with all honesty, “I don’t know.”
BJ got my meaning and offered probably one of
the best suggestions I’d heard in weeks.
“Then why not do like in the Harry Potter
books?” he started saying.
It was my turn to get confused.
He chuckled, “I mean, if you can’t say boat
or ship or the name of it, then maybe you should say like they did for
Voldemort?”
He then knitted his eyebrows together and
asked, “Uh what was the name of the ship again?”
“Banachelli.” I answered.
“See, you can say it.” He said with a self
satisfied chuckle at tricking me into saying it.
He then made the funny grin when he said, “Try
saying ‘The place that shall not be named!’ or something like that.”
I laughed.
“Ok maybe that is a bit long but how about
just calling it something else.” He suggested, “Like your summer home, or your
floating house, or just call it the floating hotel.”
And then BJ stood up. His face went red and I
thought for a second he was going to punch me right in the face.
With all joking aside he asked me, “Wait a
sec! Are you planning to run away to that ship again? And so help me if I think
you are lieing to me; I swear I am going to kick your ass right here and now.”
“Boy you have a dirty mouth now!” I said.
BJ’s hands were balled up in fists at his
side as he said, “Simon, just answer the question!”
I raised my foot in the air and motioned to
the ankle monitor bulging beneath my sock.
“Uh hello! I can’t go anywhere without
everyone swarming on top of me.”
“Simon I am serious! If you don’t tell me the
truth right now, I am going to knock every last tooth out of your head!”
I dropped my foot back to the floor and looked
him right in the eye again as I answered, “I am never going to run away like
that again. As far as I am concerned my life at sea is a thing of the past!”
BJ started looking around my room, but I
didn’t know why, then his eyes landed on my bible which Grandmother had given
me a long time ago. He picked it up and held it out to me.
“Put your right hand on your bible and swear
to God that you are not going to run away again.” He ordered.
Without hesitation I did just that.
“OK then!” he said setting down my bible.
“So you still wanting to try to kick my butt
or would you rather go eat?” I asked him while still prepared for him to
attack.
“Nah, I believe you now. But I might kick
your butt later just for the heck of it.” He said and tried to give me a
playful face slap, but I knocked it away.
“Oooh! The little diaper boy has moves!” BJ
teased.
“Yeah, well I got to, metal mouth!” I said
and jumped past him and out the door before he could try again.
Dinner was actually really cool with BJ
there. Things had been kind of uncomfortable at home since I had returned. I
don’t mean that in a bad way, I just mean that everyone seems kind of edgy. Like
my parents and I were all walking on eggshells but BJ somehow made all that go
away and it never came back after that one evening. I do however think BJ is a
little uncomfortable with my spiritual awakening. I happened to glance his way
when I was saying grace and seen that he was rolling his eyes.
After dinner, while dad and BJ were cleaning
up, mom and I went back to my room so that she could help me get changed. This
time however instead of a cloth diaper I opted for a disposable. When we were
finished BJ came back to my room and the two of us messed around on the
computer, playing video games and just having a good time.
While we were playing an old motorcycle
computer game called Road Rash he asked me right out of the blue, “Do you mind
if I ask how you dealt with the whole diaper thing when you were at that camp
place?”
“You mean The Ranch?” I asked.
BJ nodded.
“Well I got teased a lot at first and even
got into a couple fights. Then I started opening up and sharing with others about
what had happened and everyone stopped teasing me, all except this one guy.” I
said.
“What happened with him?” he asked.
“If you mean, ‘Did I pound his head with a tire
iron while he slept?’ then the answer is no. I wanted to, but I didn’t.” I
chucked as my motorcycle guy crashed into a road sign. “Actually, I didn’t have
to do anything about him.”
“How’s that?” BJ asked as his guy started
down the track.
“He got caught trying to sneak out of camp for
the third time and was sent away.” I said.
“No way! Seriously?” BJ asked.
“Yeah, just goes to show you that God takes
care of his own.” I said.
BJ let his guy crash as he turned to me and
flat out asked, “OK, so are you like a religious nut now or something?”
“Does it matter if I am?” I asked back with a
bit of a smug attitude.
BJ thought for a second before he replied, “I
guess not.”
“Good!” I said and punched him in the arm
when he wasn’t looking.
“Hey what was that for?” he cried out while
rubbing the sore spot.
“To let you know that I might be a Christian,
but that don’t mean I’m an angel.” I said while protecting myself with my hands
up so that he couldn’t hit me back.
We played a while longer and then it was my
turn to ask an out of the blue question.
“Hey BJ?” I said.
“What?” he said back while in the middle of
our sixteenth race.
I spoke kind of slow like and I’m not sure
why, but for some reason it seemed like maybe I might be rushing things, nevertheless
I asked anyway.
“If my parents are cool with it and if your
parents are cool with it, do you want to see if you can stay over tonight?”
BJ put down his controller and looked at me
seriously again. I remember thinking how I wished he’d stop looking at me like
that so much.
“I was kind of hoping we could, but I didn’t
want to be the one to bring it up. I mean I didn’t know if you were...” he
trailed off.
“Were what?” I asked.
BJ shrugged, “I don’t know.”
“Sane enough?” I said for him.
“Oh man no!” BJ said while blushing, “Heck, I
didn’t mean it like that! Oh, you don’t mind if I say heck, do you?”
“Heck no!” I told him.
“Funny!” he said, “But really, I was meaning
like... GEEZE! I don’t know what I want to say!” he said with frustration.
“I think I get what you mean and since we’re
being honest: I kind of feel weird asking, I mean not weird for you or me, but
kind of weird for our parents. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah I think so. Maybe we should talk to
your parents before we even think of asking mine.” He suggested.
“That’s a good idea. I mean us talking to
them together. That might be better.” I said.
As we were walking out of my room BJ tapped
me on the shoulder.
“Uh by the way, one of us pooped and I'm
pretty sure it wasn't me. I mean as sure as I can be... I suppose it could have
been me... nope pretty sure it was you. Yep, had to be you.” He said while
trying to be cute about it.
I turned completely around so that I was
blocking his escape from my room.
“What are you trying to say?” I teasingly
said.
“That you might want to think about getting
changed again Sir Stinksalot!” he said and we both laughed.
I took a second to allow my mind to venture
downward and realized that he was right. I had crapped myself.
Spinning back around and beginning to walk
again, I looked over my shoulder I said, “Keep your nose out of my diaper.”
“Yeah, that is gross!” he said and then gave
me a shove down the hallway.
“Hey! Take it easy Gigantor!” I complained.
“Well, get your stinky butt moving a little
faster, would ya Tiny Tim!” he laughed.
As it turned out, convincing my parents to
let us have a sleepover was the easy part. Actually my parents were overjoyed
with the fact that I was finally starting to act normal again. However, his
parents were not so easy to convince. To get them on board with the idea I had
to pull out the big guns... I got mom to talk with his parents and convince
them, that having BJ stay the night would really help me. That did the trick.
BJ had to go back to his house to get some
stuff and while he was gone I took the opportunity to take my shower and get
diapered for the night. Dad was the one to help me this time and like he always
did, he put me into cloth diapers. Someday I am going to ask why dad prefers
the cloth diapers and mom prefers me in disposables. I mean, it has always been
like that.
I had only just pulled on a pair of plastic
pants when dad and I both heard someone at the front door. Of course we both
assumed it was BJ returning, but we were wrong. I quickly pulled on a clean
pair of shorts over my diaper and plastic pants and found a t-shirt to wear
before following dad out of my room. I hadn’t put the shirt on yet as we walked
out into the living room; I had it draped over my left shoulder.
“Mr. Davis!” I said with shock when I saw my
Probation Officer standing by the front door talking with mom.
“Hello Simon.” He said.
Mr. Davis isn’t exactly the likable kind of
guy; at least on the surface. He is quite stern and very authoritarian when it
comes to his job. Even his appearance is scary. This is the second time he’s
come to the house since I returned from The Ranch and both times now he has
shown up wearing a gun, cuffs, a bulletproof vest, mace and a badge pinned to
his chest.
“I-I didn’t know you were coming today.” I
told him and my voice gave away that Mr. Davis scared the hell out of me.
“I don’t have to tell you when I will be
checking up on you.” He said as though I had just insulted him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean.” I said with knocking
knees.
“Would you like to sit down?” Dad asked.
Mom said, “I already asked him, but he said
he wasn’t here to socialize.”
Mr. Davis pulled a small notepad from his
left breast pocket and examined it.
“My records indicate that Simon was away from
the house earlier today for forty-one minutes.”
“I-I called before I left and when I got
back.” I said and my voice cracked badly revealing just how unsettled he made
me feel.
Again he spoke to me as though I were
accusing him of something, “I didn’t say you hadn’t.”
“I’ll need to check your GPS band and then I
will be inspecting your bedroom.” He said while pulling out what looked to me
to be some kind of Taser weapon.
I hesitantly stepped around dad’s recliner
and offered my ankle for inspection. He held the black device close to my
ankle, it made a beeping sound and then he clipped it back on his belt.
“Are you going to mess up his room again?”
Mom asked, but he didn’t answer.
The first time he came he did a thorough
search of my room. No nook or cranny was left untouched. His excuse was to be
sure I hadn’t hidden any of the opium drugs. My only thought was, how stupid
would I have to be to hide it in my own bedroom when I could have hid it
virtually anywhere within the house.
The last time it had taken over two hours for
mom, dad and me to clean up my room. Thankfully he didn’t destroy my room this
time. He still went to my bedroom, but was only in there a grand total of maybe
half a minute then returned to the living room and continued asking questions
as though he hadn’t stopped.
“Have you had any contact with anyone you are
not supposed to?” he asked.
“No sir.” I answered.
“Who was the boy you were with today?” he
asked.
I was surprised he knew about that, but he
probably got that from when I had called in to say I was going over to BJ’s
house.
“My friend BJ.” I said.
“And what does BJ stand for?” he asked while
scribbling in his little notebook.
“It doesn’t stand for anything; that is the
boy’s name.” Dad answered for me.
“Excuse me sir; I was speaking to your son.”
Mr. Davis said just as determinedly to dad as he had been when speaking to me.
Mom had moved and repositioned herself behind
me with her arms crossed under my chin and the palms of her hands pressed
tightly just above my bare nipples.
Mr. Davis asked me a few more questions such
as if I had seen my therapist yet, if I had been taking my prescribed
medications and he listed each of them. He asked if I had been taking any
medications or drugs that he had not mentioned and then said something that
surprised us all.
“I am happy that you are following the rules that
have been set down for you. Because of that I feel it is appropriate to approve
your request to attend the
“I CAN SEE
Mom pressed her hands tighter against my
chest. It was only then that I realized dad had been holding my left hand the
entire time I had been standing there. I only noticed ‘cause he squeezed it
tightly when I had burst out crying.
Mr. Davis didn’t seem the least bit moved by
my outburst of emotions. He continued in his cold machine-like way of talking.
“Yes you may. However only under the
supervision of either his parents or your own. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded my head.
Mr. Davis snapped, “Are you disrespecting
me?”
I flinched at his sudden sharp words.
“N-No sir!” I answered, though I didn’t know
why he had asked that question.
He bent over and put his big nose right in my
face. “Are you one of those bobble-head dolls that people put on the dash board
of their car?”
I finally figured out what I’d done to tick
him off. He didn’t seem to like my non-verbal response.
“I am sorry sir. Yes you were clear!” I
answered.
With his big nose almost touching my face he
smiled and said, “Thank you.”
He stood upright, stuffed his little notebook
back in his pocket and directed his next words to both mom and dad. “I am
pleased,” he began, “with his progress thus far and I don’t think I’ll have to
worry about him. You can expect that I will be checking up on him regularly for
the first month or so and if he is still doing as well as he has been we may
not have to continue these uncomfortable intrusions.”
“One last bit of business before I go.” He
said to dad and then looked to mom. “I won’t be able to attend tomorrow
evenings scheduled meeting with Mrs. Marsha Anne Applegate and her son Jamie
Tiberius Applegate as planned.
“Do you need us to reschedule it?” Dad asked.
“No, I feel confident that I won’t be
needed.” And as he continued speaking, for the first time he allowed his tough
guy facade to crack. “Besides, Tom’ll be here if things get out of hand.”
I glanced at dad. He too had seen the crack
in Mr. Davis’s armoire. The brick wall of a man had let show that he wasn’t all
tough and mean and that he actually had friends. We already knew that he was my
probation offer because Thomas Segal had pulled some strings to get him
assigned to my case. Now we could see that Mr. Davis and Tom must be friends.
“I have already spoken with Mrs. Applegate
and I doubt there will be any problems.” He told us all while looking at me.
“He talked with Marsha?” I thought to myself.
Dad went to the door as Mr. Davis started to
leave, but then something popped into my head and without thinking I called out
to him.
“Wait!”
Both Dad and Mr. Davis turned back around.
Dad looked surprised by my outburst, but Mr. Davis looked plumb offended again.
“Sorry,” I apologized for shouting then
asked, “Did you say
Mr. Davis pulled his little pad of paper back
out and flipped through a few pages.
“
I scratched my cheek and thought.
“I’m not su...” I started to say but then
asked, “Did he say his name was Rasputin?”
He eyed me with what seemed like
unwillingness to continue the conversation, made a sucking sound through his
front teeth, stuffed his pad into his pocket and walked out the screen door.
Dad watched as Mr. Davis got in his car and
left. Only then did any of us say anything.
Mom was the first to speak, “Oh, I do not
like him at all.”
“He’s only doing his job.” Dad said to her,
“Tom told us he was hard nosed.”
“Scares the willies out of me!” I mumbled.
“Well, he doesn’t have to be so mean. He
makes me feel like a criminal.” Mom said.
With her still holding me tightly from behind
I tilted my head back, shot her a smirk and said, “Uh, I am a criminal.”
She let go of me and playfully pushed me away
while swatting my diapered bottom, “You are not and don’t say that.”
I wiped my runny nose with my bare arm and
said, “Did you hear what he said? I can go to
I felt like doing cartwheels around the
living room.
Right then the doorbell rang and all three of
us jumped. Mom and I both screamed and then laughed as dad opened the screen
door to let BJ back in. He stepped into the house and froze.
“Uh, what’s going on?” he asked.
“My probation officer was just here.” I told
him.
Dad walked past me, patted my cheek and pulled
on my earlobe while smiling down at me.
“Oh, so that’s who that was. I saw someone
coming out when I was at the top of the hill.” BJ told us.
“He said I can see Lowell and I can go to
their church too!” I was almost bouncing with pent-up excitement.
“You been crying?” he asked as though I
hadn’t said anything about
“No!” I lied, “It’s allergies!”
Mom popped me on the butt again and said,
“Don’t lie!”
She then followed dad into the kitchen.
“No more pie! You are supposed to be on a
diet!” she shouted at him much the way she might me.
I took BJ’s backpack from him and the two of
us headed back to my room.
“Holy crud! Did you bring your entire room?”
I exclaimed when I felt the weight of his pack.
“Are you ok?” BJ asked when I tossed his bag
on my bed.
“Yeah, just a little shaken up.” I answered
honestly.
And while I had my back to him he kicked me
right in the diapered butt. It weren’t no love tap either! I flew forward
landing face first on the bed, draped over his pack.
“What’d you do that for?” I asked as I
started to get up and counter attack.
“You had that coming and you know you did!”
he said as I came at him swinging.
He jumped to the side and I went sprawling
out the door and onto the floor of the hallway. It happened so fast and we were
both laughing so very hard. It was too funny the way it had happened.
“I couldn’t have made you do that if I were
trying!” BJ laughed.
“I was like whoosh! Boom!” I said
demonstrating how I had flown right past him.
“Hey did you know that
“No it isn’t!” BJ said.
Loudly I exclaimed, “That’s what I thought!
What is it then?”
“Heck if I know, but it’s sure not something
stupid like Rasputin!” BJ said.
“What bunk do you sleep in?” he asked.
“Bottom,” I answered, “You can sleep in
Jamie’s bed up there.”
I took his backpack and tossed it up to the
top bunk.
There was a screech, a hissed, and then his
bag fell back down as something furry flew past BJ’s head. He had to duck to
avoid it.
“What was that?” BJ asked with shock.
I laughed, “Oops! Sorry Lil’ Vera,” I called
out after her, “I didn’t know you were up there!”
“You still got that thing?” BJ asked.
“Hey! Don’t sass the kitty!” I warned him.
BJ picked up his pack and tossed it back up
to the top bunk again.
He then commented, “Probably better that you
are not on top.”
“Keep it up funny boy!”
“What’d I say?” He balked like he hadn’t
meant anything by it.
“Yeah, just watch it or I might get mom to
diaper you too.” I joked.
“Wanna bet!” he laughed.
I made a dismissive wind sound though my
nose.
“If
“I didn’t say anything about convincing you
to do anything. I said I’d get mom TO DO IT.” And I put a lot of emphasis there
at the end to really drive home my point.
He only chuckled amusingly and I was left
wondering if
BJ froze while looking toward the door. I
looked too and saw Lil’ Vera’s head poking around the edge of the doorjamb.
She quietly meowed when she realized we had
spotted her.
“Did we wake up the baby?” I asked in baby
talk.
She meowed again and I started to take a step
toward her, but she hissed and ran off.
“Why do you keep her if she hates you?” BJ
asked.
“She doesn’t hate me.” I said, “She sometimes
will even lie on my lap.”
“Can you pet her?” he asked.
“I did once or twice.” I told him, “Besides,
she likes mom and dad.”
We spent the rest of the evening playing
computer games and just having a great time together. It was like there hadn’t
been months since we had seen each other.
A little after 9:00 P.M. we were both starting
to get tired and were starting to talk about going to bed early when dad came
in.
“Alright boys, time to get ready for bed!”
BJ and I laughed.
“What’d I say?” Dad asked.
“We were just saying the same thing.” BJ told
him.
“Well why don’t you get a shower.” He said while
bonking BJ on his head with the side of his fist.
BJ stood up and kicked off his shoes, one
went sailing over into the corner by the closet and the other landed somewhere
by the ladder to the top bunk.
“I’ll be right back.” Dad said and slipped
out of the room.
Don’t ask me why I watched BJ undress, ‘cause
I don’t have a clue. Maybe I was curious about how much he had changed.
When his shirt came off it flew like a ghost
and floated heavily to my bed. When his pants dropped he gave them a kick and they
sailed through the air too; landing on the floor near Jamie’s desk. His pants
actually had better hang time than his shirt did.
Before he turned around I got a good view of
the back of his white boxers and seen first hand just how skinny he was. I’m
talking sickly skinny here. He didn’t even have a butt to speak of; it was like
his back went all the way into his boxers and then his legs sprouted from
there.
He turned around and said, “Take a picture it
will last longer!”
I hesitated for a second and then frantically
reached for the top drawer of my desk while saying, “Can I?”
Of course there was no camera in my desk, but
it was funny to watch BJ quickly attempt to cover his near nakedness with only
his two big hands.
“NO WAY!” he exclaimed and ran out of my
room.
As soon as BJ was gone Dad returned and asked,
“You need to change before bed or are you good to go?”
We both snickered at his unintended pun.
“I think it would be better if I changed. I
think I might be getting a rash again.” I said, “My backside itches a little.”
“Another one?” dad said, “Guess I better get
the butt butter.” He joked.
“Whoops!” BJ said as he spun around in the
door frame. “Sorry, forgot my toothbrush in my bag.”
Dad had been right in the middle of smearing
my private parts with Desitin diaper rash cream when BJ had come in.
“Geeze BJ it’s not like you haven’t seen me
like this before.” I laughed.
He turned back around red faced.
“Well I didn’t want to make you feel bad.” He
said.
I came back with, “Don’t be a dork!” which
earned me a pinch to the inside of my thigh
“OUCH!” I shouted at dad.
He then looked at BJ, “That was very nice of
you.”
“Dad that hurt!” I continued to moan.
“Oh don’t be a baby!” dad said and all three
of us laughed ‘cause it was so funny.
By the time BJ got back from showering and
brushing his teeth I was fully changed and wearing a pair of pajama bottoms
over my double layered cloth diaper dad had pinned me into. I was sitting on my
bed tinkering with my electronic Journal when he came walking in wearing
nothing more than a towel wrapped around his middle.
As he reached up for his backpack from the
top bunk he made the comment, “Forgot to take a change of clothes with me.”
As he stretched himself to obtain his pack, his
towel fell away and I was privileged to an in-my-face view of his utter nudity.
I guess his growing taller wasn’t the only change about him. His penis and
balls had grown too. Actually, compared to my own he was huge. Like the rest of
his thirteen year old body they were hairless...or nearly so. There weren’t
even the beginnings of pubic growth on his wrinkled sack. However there were
more than a few thin dark hairs like a crown gracing the base of his penis.
"Great Grizzly
Red faced he quickly covered himself with his
backpack.
“What are you embarrassed about?” I asked, “I’ve
seen you naked loads of times.”
He turned his bare butt toward me and I
almost laughed when I saw the dimples in his snow white butt cheeks. He quickly
fished out a pair of white satin boxer shorts and pulled them on. The funny
thing is that they were so thin that I could see right through them, but I
chose not to say anything. He seemed to be suffering from a bad case of discomfiture
as it was. Yeah I can be a cruel S.O.B. but this time I took the high road.
However I did have to ask one question. “Since
when do you wear satin boxers?”
He pulled out a white t-shirt and started
pulling that on too and I noted that he still had no arm pit hair.
“They’re silk, not satin.” He said.
“Oh, excuse me!”
Without saying anything he climbed to the top
bunk and stretched out. I had just enough time to think that maybe I might have
hurt his feelings when a pillow came from out of nowhere with deadly force. It
only missed my head by an inch at the most. I moaned anyway and acted like he
had hit me in the face.
“OOOH! My nose!”
My thespian talents were as sharp as ever,
for BJ’s head appeared over the side of the top bunk looking all worried and concerned,
which is exactly what I had hoped he would do. As soon as I saw his face I reached
out cold cocked his melon with a stinging hand to cheek slap.
“Oh you dirty dog!” he growled from above me.
I laughed.
“OK, truce!” I said.
“Yeah, I remember how you are with truces
diaper boy!”
“Keep it up metal mouth!”
“OK! I agree to the truce!” he finally agreed.
I guess he was still sensitive about his
braces. He should have known better then to let me know he had a tender spot
like that.
I chuckled, “Now why don’t I believe you?”
He laughed too, “Probably ‘cause you know as
soon as your guard is down I am going to try again.”
“Uh, how? I still have your pillow.” I said.
BJ groaned as he realized he had thrown down
his only pillow.
He tried convincing me to give it back by
saying stuff like, “You have to let me have it back so I can go to sleep.”
“Yeah good luck with that Tin Man!” I
scoffed.
“Tin Man?” He screeched.
I was laughing so hard I blew a booger out of
my left nostril which handed somewhere over the side of the bed.
A minute or so later he spoke down to me
again, “Come on Simon. Let me have my pillow back.”
But he hadn’t realized that I had slipped off
the bed and was already sneaking up the ladder to bomb him again.
WHAM!
This time the pillow didn’t get him in the
head but right in the tenders.
“OOOOH! Simon you whore child!” BJ moaned.
Fearing that he was coming after me I jumped
off the ladder and dove under the bottom bunk.
“Serves you right!” I laughed.
“Why’d you do that!” he continued to moan.
Still laughing under the bed I asked, “Did I
get one or both?”
Trying not to laugh when he answered he whimpered,
“You got the left one!”
That only made me laugh all the more.
“I don’t care what you say, you are still a
no good underhanded pirate!” he hissed.
I cautiously poked my head out from under the
bed.
“I have two responses to that. The first is,
‘Thank you!’ And the second is, ‘You know what they say.’”
There was a measure of reluctance to his
voice as he asked, “What?”
Impishly I remarked, “Once you go pirate you
never go back.”
BJ’s head reappeared, “They really say that?”
“I’ve no idea.” I laughed, “So you going to
live?”
“I think so; although my children are
probably going to be born with dents in their heads.”
I laughed harder, “So you going to kill me in
my sleep?”
“Oh no! No, no, no! I’d never kill you while
you were sleeping. What sort of person do you think I am anyway? I’d wait until
you are wide awake so you’d know when I did it!” he said and then laughed like
some crazed madman.
“You’d of made a fair pirate me thinks!” I
said in poor storybook pirate speak, “Save for one failing grace ye have.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re much to pretty!” I said and started
to laugh when he began to groan at being called pretty.
I started scooting out from under the bed
while saying, “So you’ll kill me when I’m looking; that sounds like a plan to
me. Just promise me I can die with my boots on.”
“You don’t wear boots.” BJ said.
“Yeah, well then I guess you won’t be able to
kill me after all. Sorry about your luck.”
After I was back in bed BJ’s head appeared
once again and he asked, “Can I ask you something serious?”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“How’d Tom manage to find your ship and bring
you back?”
“He didn’t actually find it. I had left it.”
“You did?” BJ said with surprise.
“Yep. Down in
“Wow! How come?”
“‘Cause I found out that my friends were
going to mutiny. So I snuck away before they could do it.”
“Why would they do that?” he asked with no
small amount of amazement.
“They wanted to get me help.” I flippantly said,
“But after I got away, a few days later I got caught by some off duty bumpkin
with a badge who happened to recognize me from TV or something.”
With my pinky I traced the scar on my face to
indicate nonverbally how I had been recognized so easily.
“I was put into an emergency foster home
while they attempted to contact those who were looking for me.”
“Is that where Tom found you?” BJ asked.
“Nope! I actually escaped from there with the
help of a Cuban boy named Rico, who had been staying there too.”
“Is this true or are you just pulling my
leg?” BJ asked.
I sat up and spun around so that I was
sitting at the foot of the bed and able to see BJ lying on his side using his
arm and hand to keep his head propped up.
I placed my right hand over my heart and
raised my left. “I swear it is all true.”
“Dang, you are like some kind of super magnet
for trouble.” He said.
“Yeah, well it gets worse. It turns out that
my leaving the...” I faltered.
“Foster home?” BJ offered.
I shook my head.
“Banachelli.” BJ said for me.
“Thanks.” I said, “Anyway it turned out to be
a good thing ‘cause that low down jerk Tom had been tracking me all along.”
“You best not let Tom hear you talking about
him like that.” BJ warned with a self amused little chuckle.
“Yeah, well for all I know he has my room
bugged and is listening in right now.” I said comically.
“Are you serious?” BJ gasped.
I laughed, “No I am not serious! Dang, you
been watching too much James Bond or Austin Powers or something.”
“So, how was he tracking you anyway?” BJ
asked while ignoring my slam against him.
“Right before I left the last time I met this
kid at school named Wambleeska. He ended up coming with Jamie, Lowell and me
‘cause his life here sucked so bad.”
“Yeah I remember him, kind of; but Jamie and
Lowell never made it.” BJ said.
“I know that! Would you shut-up and let me
tell it?” I said with a huff.
“So, come to find out none of what Wambleeska
told me was true. For starters he wasn’t even a kid; he was like 21 or
something. He has this genetic thing where he never physically matured.”
“Kind of like what Madam-M wanted to do to
all the boys of the world huh?” BJ observed.
“HA!” I laughed, “I thought the exact same
thing when I found out about him. Anyway, I looked it up on the internet and it
is a real disorder and there is like one in every million babies born that end
up with this genetic illness.”
I crawled forward on my bed to retrieve my
pillow, which I then laid in my lap.
“Oh and get this, Wambleeska isn’t even his
real name either. It was Myles something or other.”
BJ gave a snort at the name Myles.
“Luckily Fyer had met him before when Wambleeska
was only an FBI trainee and Fyer was still working for the FBI. They had only
met the one time so it took a while for Fyer to realize who Wambleeska really
was. As you might imagine Fyer was totally seeing red and wanted to toss
Wambleeska off the ship right away. Of course we didn’t.”
I began to giggle to myself.
“What’s so funny?” BJ asked.
“Well after we found Madam-M’s stash of money
and the missing surplus of the drug she had concocted, we were making our way
to
“So what did you do with him?” BJ asked.
“In the middle of the night we tied him to a
flag pole in the middle of some town wearing only a diaper and a makeshift baby
bonnet. Both had been Super Glued in place too. For added measure I had pinned
a note to Wambleeska’s diaper that was for Tom, telling him he had to try
harder than that to find me.”
BJ was giggling with delight at our
cleverness.
“The next day we found out that it was too
late. Wambleeska had already sent the FBI a message on how we managed to keep
hidden when we were docked.”
“So when did your friends figure out you are
hooked on opium?” BJ asked.
“Oh, I think they had known for a while, but
it was only after we got to
“You remember all that?” BJ asked, “I thought
you said the opium made you forget stuff?”
“Well it’s like I said; some stuff I remember
and some I can’t. And I also had my journal entries for those times as well.”
BJ nodded and said, “Oh ok. That makes sense
then.”
“Well anyway that night I snuck away while
everyone was asleep. But a couple days later I went into a convenience store to
buy a soda and something to eat. Like I said before, there was this off-duty
cop in there who recognized me.”
“See, I’m telling you, you are a magnet for
trouble!” BJ said.
I made a humming sound of agreement before I
said, “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“If I’m not mistaken, I think I just did and
for the second time to boot.” BJ said sarcastically.
“Oh do shut up! You’re beginning to bore the
life out of me!” I said.
BJ made a breathful sound through his nose,
“You totally butchered that line.”
“Hey well I didn’t want to say hell.” I joked.
“Simon!” BJ Exclaimed, “You cussed!”
“Yeah well you should know! You cuss worse
than a drunken sailor.” I said.
“Anyway, go on with what you were saying.” BJ
said.
“I met the coolest sixteen year old Cuban guy
named Rico at the emergency foster home they put me in. He was skinny like you.”
“I’m not skinny, I’m wiry.” BJ protested.
“Whatever!” I said waving him off, “Anyway
like I said Rico helped me get away from the emergency foster care home and we
took off together.”
“So how did Tom catch you then?” BJ asked
impatiently.
“Take it easy! I’m getting to that part.” I
said.
Right then, mom came in carrying a glass of
water and a handful of pills for me to take.
As soon as I had swallowed them all she told
us, “Ok, it is time to turn off the lights and get to sleep.”
“Fifteen more minutes? Please?” BJ begged.
“OK, you can talk for fifteen minutes, but I
want you under your covers and the lights out!” she said.
“Night mom!” I said giving her a hug and a
kiss.
BJ did likewise by leaning down from the top
bunk.
Mom flipped off the light at the switch and
said, “Fifteen minutes then you both need to get some sleep.”
“Night mom,” BJ and I said nearly in unison.
“Ok, she’s gone now!” BJ said from above,
“What happened next?”
I started to get out of bed again as I said,
“You know what. I have something about this saved on my e-journal. How about if
I just call it up and let you read it?” I asked.
BJ was quiet for a minute or two. Long enough
that I began to wonder if he had fallen asleep or something.
“BJ?” I called.
“Yeah?” he called back.
“Well? You want to read it or not?” I asked.
I saw the silhouette of BJ’s head peering
over the side of the bunk as he said, “Are you sure you want me to read your
private journal?”
“The way I see it, if I can’t trust my best
friend, then who can I trust?” I said.
“OK then.” He agreed albeit somewhat
reluctantly.
It took me a few minutes to find the right
entry, but once I had, I passed my e-journal up to him and then bunkered down
for the night.
“Hey BJ?” I called out one last time.
“Yeah?” he sent back down.
“Would it bother you if I prayed a little
before I go to sleep?” I asked.
“Are you going to pray out loud or
something?” he asked.
I chuckled to myself, “No, not like that.”
“Well, then why would I mind?”
“OK, in that case goodnight.”
“Happy praying!” BJ joked and I giggled aloud
as BJ began reading to himself.
I lay looking out the back window
of the old rusted out Dodge watching as the tires tore up the gravel road and
repurposed it as a vast dust cloud behind us while we accelerated to greater
and greater speeds. I continued to watch as the dust quickly obscured the
russet bricks and the silver chain link fence of the emergency foster home. It
wasn’t until the car turned onto a paved road that I rolled out of the back window,
allowing myself to fall down into the back seat with a bounce. I then climbed
into the front passenger seat; landing on my head and having to perform an
in-place summersault in order to right myself again.
“Sheesh, why do you have to go into such detail
when you write? Why not just write normal?” BJ grunted.
“I tried being normal once. I didn't like it.”
I teased.
When he didn’t reply to my attempt at
injecting a bit of humor I said, “That is just how I write. And besides, I
don’t remember you complaining when you snuck and read my journal before!”
His reply came in a near whisper, “Oh you
remember that, huh?”
“Yeah, that I do remember!”
“Well you are just as snippy as you’ve always
been!” he observed.
“Bite me!” I said.
“No thanks. I’m not supposed to have sweets
with my braces.” He said.
“Umm, did you just call me sweet?” I asked.
BJ hesitated momentarily before responding
with a strong-minded, “No!”
“Well I think you’re sweet too, sugar lips!”
I joked while trying not to laugh too loud.
BJ groaned and though I couldn’t see him it
sounded like he had covered his face with his pillow.
“Are you finished bugging me now?” I asked.
“Uuuuuuh, yep now I am.” He said.
“Good then shut-up! I am trying to talk to
God down here.”
“Oh sorry, I forgot. Uh, tell him I said hi.”
BJ said.
“Yeah Ok I’ll be sire to do just that.” I
replied.
I went back to praying while BJ went back to
reading my old journal entry.
The once well dressed, well
groomed young looking Rico was sitting behind the steering wheel with his
green, sunken eyes focused on the road ahead. When I first met Rico I had a
hard time believing he was as old as sixteen and now... well now I was finding
it hard to believe that he wasn’t a lot older than sixteen. A couple days ago
he had been clean cut, nicely tanned and mildly dignified; he now sat across
from me sporting a dirt-smeared face, hair that looked as though it had not
seen a drop of shampoo in days let alone a comb and hardly a spot of color in
his face. He was wearing what was once one of his crisp white button-up shirts,
but now showed the signs of food and other mysterious stains. There was also a
large smear just above the right breast pocket of what I was guessing was jelly
from a jelly doughnut.
From my vantage point I could only
see the right side of his face, but if the other side looked half as drained
then I knew I had better not try messing with him. I am not talking about the
kind of tired you might feel if you miss a night or two of sleep, but the tired
one feels from being on the run and having to watch your back every second of
every minute without even a millisecond to let down your guard.
He turned and shot an emotionless
look then snapped at me, “Shut up!”
“I didn’t say anything!” I shot
back.
“Well stop looking at me so loudly
then!”
I knocked myself on the side of my
head with the palm of my hand, shook my head and grunted, “That doesn’t make
any sense!”
He eyed me real good, his nose
bobbing once, twice and a third time before he spoke again.
“You look like hell.” He observed.
I’d have to agree with him because
it was true. I did look like hell and frankly I wasn’t happy about it either.
I snarled back with, “You’re not
so hot looking yourself Pal.”
He quickly examined the stains on
his shirt before sharply exhaling his disapproval.
“It’s a good thing I like you!” he
said.
Ignoring his last statement I
asked with a nervous twitch, “You manage to find my stuff?”
Before Rico had run away from the
foster home two days ago I had told him where to find a bag I had hid which
contained clothes, money and most importantly several small brown bottles.
He pointed to a tattered brown
grocery bag, which was rolled closed and lying on the floorboard beneath my
feet.
I dove for it and frantically
ripped it open to get at the contents.
“Where is it?” I screeched and
then I found what I was so desperately in need of.
“Oh there you are!” I sang out as
I lifted a small brown bottle from what remained of the sack.
“Simon,” I know you made me
promise never to ask about those bottles, but maybe you shouldn’t take whatever
it is anymore.”
“You know what? I have this great
idea; how about you shut that whole in your face and drive!” I snapped as I
struggled to get the screw cap off the bottle.
When I couldn’t get it to budge I
put the cap between my teeth for leverage. Finally it came loose. I spun the
cap off, tipped the bottle up to my lips and swallowed every last drop.
It had been three days since I had
any of my precious liquid of which I had become so gravely addicted too. I had
just started to feel the onset of a complete detox-meltdown only a couple hours
before running away from the foster home. But I started feeling better as soon
as I felt that familiar tingle as it flowed over my tongue and down my throat.
Minutes later I was feeling GREAT
with a capital WOWZERS! That full body ache that had been steadily growing
within me was replaced by tingling that radiated through me like ripples in a
pond. It’s like drinking a cup of happiness, Christmas morning, watching
cartoons with a bowl of cereal on your lap, and yellow sunshine warming your
skin. It’s like being in love without all the crap that comes as part of the
packaged deal.
What is in the brown bottles that
would make me act the way I was? Well, to answer that I need to take you back in
time and tell you about this one lady who had lofty goals of condemning every
boy in the world to living the rest of their lives in diapers. Impossible you
might say? Well you weren’t there so you’ll just have to take my word for it.
At the core of all of her plans was what she called vitamins. It was a chemical
cocktail with several intended side effects, such as stopping and even in some
cases reversing the early onset of puberty. It also lastingly altered the
takers natural ability to control their bodily functions. There were other
chemicals introduced to alter and/or heighten ones mood and probably the most
important aspect of it was the fact that each bottle contained just enough
opium to get each and every one of the boys aboard the Banachelli addicted to
the stuff. Yes that’s right, even me!
“You know there is only three more
of those left.” Rico said.
“Well you got to get me to
“
That sparked off a long argument,
which ended when neither was willing to talk to the other anymore.
We sat silent for what felt like
an hour as the tires thumped out an uneven rhythm from the cracks and potholes
in the road. The autumn trees flew past the car windows in a blur of shades of reds
and golds while the telephone poles came and went so quickly that they looked
like a picket fence.
The so called vitamins had taken
full effect and feeling better than I had in days I reached down for the rest
of the stuff that had been in the bag, only to experience an odd sensation. My
left arm had not responded when my brain had told it to reach down. My eyes
drifted ever so calmly to my left hand where I found my five fingers intertwined
with Rico’s.
Again my eyes slowly tracked up
his arm to his shoulder and then his face. He was looking at the road and
softly smiling. It was so nice to see him smile again and I decided not to
deprive him of that one small pleasure.
With only one hand I leaned down
and began to take inventory...
A pair of Blue-jean shorts with a
length of braided leather rope which acted as a belt. The belt had been made for
me by an incredibly sweet 101-year-old island woman named Fajah Tashaonda. She
is the great-great-grandmother of my dear friend Sister Sarafina. You are meant
to tie the loose leather ends together over your right hip and allow the fringe
tips to dangle. It is truly a beautiful thing that one must see in person.
Also among the contents of the bag
was a white baseball shirt with light blue three-quarter sleeves. My first name
was plastered across the back in big blue Roman block letters. On the front in
smaller blue lettering it said CAPTAIN. Everyone who didn’t know me and saw me
wearing it might assume I am the captain of my Little League Baseball team, but
that wasn’t the case at all. It had been a gift from my fellow shipmates upon
my return several months ago.
I spread the shirt and the shorts
across my lap and brushed out any wrinkles with my hand before I continued
examining the other items which lay at my feet.
There was my electronic journal;
dead ‘cause it had been turned on when I was detained. The battery had
completely discharged and I didn’t have the charger with me. I had mistakenly
left it on the Banachelli when I left.
There was a single pair of brand
new, white tube socks with a yellow and green band around the top.
My beloved track shoes, which had
also been a gift from some other friends and I might add still in mint
condition as I had not yet worn them.
Three new white disposable
diapers.
One dried out french-fry, which I
almost ate seeing how I was starving. After a moments hesitation I tossed it
out the car window and noted the slight sent of meat grilling in the early summer
air.
And finally, five small brown
bottles; two empty, one was missing its cap and three still full.
Rico released my hand so that I
could pull off the pale-blue t-shirt given to me by my Foster Parents. I wadded
it into a ball, rolled my window all the way down and tossed it out of the
speeding car. I had thought about pulling on the baseball shirt, but seeing how
it was such a beautiful day I made up my mind to remain shirtless for a while.
Since I had disposed of the shirt, I figured I might as well do the same thing
with the tan slacks and the itchy white boxer shorts. After all, they both
reeked of pee and the boxers had a massive brown stain in the back from where I
had crapped myself my first day.
Naked except for my socks I sat
looking out the open window enjoying the fresh air of freedom. Eventually I
turned from gazing at the passing scenery to the guy behind the wheel, who now
looked more drained then ever. His eyelids were at half-mast, dark circles were
forming under each eye and his head was tilted slightly forward. A toothpick
hung lazily from his bottom lip, glued there with dried saliva.
I got up on my knees, leaned
forward to kiss his cheek, but at the last second he turned to see what I was
doing and our lips made contact.
Boy you should have seen the grin
that gave him.
“Thanks Rico,” I said with a soft
chirp.
By the way, that is his name,
Rico. Well, actually it is Ricardo Vasquez, but he hates his first name. If you
ask me, he doesn’t look like a Ricardo — he looks like a Rico. Well, not right
now he doesn’t; right now he looks like a two day old corps. No, a dead guy
wouldn’t let himself get that disgusting.
All I have now is Rico, ‘cause the
ones I thought were my friends had begun to act like strangers when I was
around. They would shake their heads at me and say I’d changed. But when
something’s lost, something is always gained, though we don’t always see it so
clearly.
Rico moved his eyes from the road
and put them on me again. He examined my naked state, smiled a half smile and
then let out a bit of a snort. It wasn’t the first time Rico had seem me naked,
it was the second and it wasn’t really my nudity that he was snorting at.
“So Pañal, how was it there
without me?” Rico’s voice sounded as rough as he looked from years of drinking
whiskey, which he says he started doing when he was only six-years-old; he’s
now nearly sixteen... or so he says. Actually, except for his height, Rico
doesn’t look anything like a teenager. The last time I saw him his face was smooth
and zit free. Oh and I can testify that he doesn’t have a stitch of hair
anywhere on his body except for the top of his head.
I looked out the front windshield
for a moment to think about what parts I wanted to share and what parts I
wanted to keep to myself. The first thing that came to mind was him calling me
‘Pañal’ which he had shortened from the longer version of ‘Pañal Cabrito’. On
that first day I met him back at the foster home he started calling me that.
Rico had told me it was Spanish for ‘little man’ and like a fool I believed
him; but after he left I was told what it really meant.
I turned back around and punched
him in the arm as hard as I could. I felt my knuckles sink through his lean
muscles and come into contact with the bone. The car swerved and several car
horns began to blare at us.
“Why’d you do that?” He shouted
while rubbing his arm and trying to keep from driving into the oncoming
traffic.
“I found out what ‘Pañal Cabrito’
really means you butt-hole!” I shouted and punched him again in the same spot.
The car swerved again as Rico
laughed harder then I’d ever seen him laugh. He was rubbing his arm and
blasting the windshield with his hilarity. You see, Rico wasn’t like me and Theodore,
the other boy in the house. He wasn’t a bed or pants wetter and he did not wear
diapers.
“All this time you have been
teasing me and calling me ‘Diaper Kid’?!” I squealed.
The more I carried on the harder
Rico laughed, so I stopped talking about it and after a while he calmed back
down. Although every once in a while he would start giggling again and I’d act
like I was going to hit him again.
“Why did it take you two whole
days to come get me?” I asked.
“What?” he said defensively, “I
had to find your stuff and then get us a car, didn’t I?”
“My stuff was less then twenty
minutes from the foster home! So you’re telling me it took you two days to buy
a car?” I asked.
“Who said anything about buying?”
Rico shrugged.
“Oh! Oh yeah! Yeah this is great!
Just effing great! So you are telling me we are two wanted men riding around in
a stolen... uh, what kind of bucket is this anyway? And if you were going to
steal a car, couldn’t you have got one that was made before Elvis Presley
died?”
I had used the Elvis crack because
that was who was currently singing on the radio.
“First, we are not two wanted
men.” Rico was saying while replacing his toothpick which had fallen from his
mouth the first time I hit him, “We are one wanted man and one pañ...”
“Don’t even think of saying it!” I
growled and shook my fist at him.
Rico laughed again, thumping the
steering wheel while rocking back and forth on the seat. He tried to fumble for
another toothpick when he realized he’d bit the other in two, but he was laughing
so hard he broke it in half as well.
“Ok so second. If you don’t like
my car then you are welcome to get out and walk.” Rico said, but I knew he
wasn’t serious.
“That’s just it! It isn’t your
car! You stole it!” I shouted.
“Technicalities!” he said with a
single shoulder shrug.
“So what took you so long?” I
asked again.
He was quiet for a moment while he
pulled out yet another toothpick, positioned it just right in his mouth before
answering so softly, that I barely heard him.
“Maybe I stole a different car and
maybe I sort of ran it into an ambulance.”
“Are you serious?” I started to
laugh, “You crashed into an ambulance?”
“Shut up!” he whined and blushed.
“Why didn’t you just buy a car? I
mean it isn’t like we NEED money.” I said.
Rico got this unbelievably guilty
look on his face.
“Rico? Tell me you didn’t loose
all my money?!”
Rico had confessed to me our first
and only night together, that he had a not so little problem with gambling and
this is an exact quote from him, “You name it, I’ll put money on it and
probably loose.”
Rico tried to turn his head so
that I couldn’t see his face.
“RICO!” I shouted so forcefully
that, if he had been looking at me, he would have seen my fangs and horns
showing.
“So now I know what took you so long! You went
off to play cards while I was left sitting and waiting on you like some idiot?
And to top it off now you tell me we’re broke?”
“It was the hand of a life time! I
had four aces! I couldn’t loose!” he said.
“If you couldn’t loose then where
is my money?” I asked angrily.
“How was I supposed to know that
he had been dealt a Straight Flush?” Rico said just as angrily.
“You bet all that money on one
hand?” I asked in disbelief.
“Do you know the chances of being
dealt four aces?” Rico argued.
I sat and brewed for a minute or
two before asking, “Do we have any money left?”
“You know something, I think that
dude cheated.” Rico said, totally ignoring my question.
“Rico! How much money do we still
have?!” I asked again as my head swam.
Come to think of it maybe my head
wasn’t swimming so much for being angry, but from the opium and other drugs I’d
sucked out of the brown bottle. I mean I did just ingest about five or six
doses in one gulp. That’s the problem with opium. The longer you take it, the
more you have to have just to get a decent buzz going.
“It was the hand of a lifetime!”
He explained again.
“RICO!” I shouted and kicked the
underside of the dashboard. Yeah it hurt ‘cause I was barefoot, but I didn’t
let it show.
He whimpered, “About two hundred.”
“You’re joking right? You’re
pulling my leg? You didn’t bet nearly twelve thousand dollars? You are just
joking right? Tell me you are joking!”
I reached out and took hold of him
by the shirt.
“Rico! That was supposed to get us
all the way to...”
I didn’t get to finish ‘cause Rico
jumped on my words.
“Well I did! OK! I did and it is
gone! At least I got us a car and we have enough money for gas to get us
there.” Rico said as he pushed me off him.
I sat sideways in the seat with my
back against the door and brewed a while longer until I decided that it wasn’t
worth getting so upset about.
“Well, there is more where that
came from.” I said.
“So I guess we are going to
I tried to hit him again but
missed ‘cause he had flinched away from my swing. That and because the drugs I
had taken were in full effect now and I must say that despite the news that we
were nearly broke, I was feeling all sorts of wonderful!
“All we have to do is get to
There was a minute or two of dead
air between us before I spoke again.
“Well thanks for coming for me
anyway. I don’t think I could have waited for you much longer.”
I sighed, lifted myself off the
seat and slid a leg under my butt. As I leaned back against the door so that I
was facing Rico again and slowly allowing the opium to ravage my mind I shared
one last thought.
“Well we should make it to
After a few minutes it reoccurred
to me that I was hungry. Actually it was the rumbling of my tummy that had reminded
me.
“So, got anything to eat?” I
asked.
“Not quite.” He softly rumbled.
Thinking he was answering my
question about the food I leaned in toward him and asked, “What’s that supposed
to mean?”
“There are blueberries and noodles
in a bag in the back.” And then as though he had nearly forgot he added, “Oh
and a few bottles of champagne.”
“Blueberry noodles?” I croaked
while pretending to vomit.
Rico shook his head as he said, “You were with
them for nearly three whole days.” he paused long enough to let that sink in,
but he didn’t have to; I knew all to well how long I had been in there. It had
been three days that felt more like three months. For three days I lived in
fear that Tom Segal or my parents were going to show up and take me home!
“And what’s that got to do with
whether there is food or not? And what the heck are blueberry noodles anyway?”
I asked.
Rico almost laughed... almost. If
he had, I probably would have punched him again.
“I said AND...” Rico said while pretending to take a swing at me. He
followed that up with a playful sounding “you little twit!”
I didn’t even duck because I knew
Rico would never hurt me... not intentionally. I can’t tell you how I knew, I
just did.
Rico was born in
Before his parents were sent away
he had been studying for nearly two years to become a Catholic Priest. That is
until he got into some trouble with the law. Rico told me that it had been discovered
that he had been stealing from the church to the estimated sum of more than $27,000
to support his addiction to gambling, drinking and smoking, as well as to buy
food. I still have no idea how a 16-year-old gets access to that sort of church
money, but apparently he had. Despite his fallout with the church, he still
conducts himself the same. If you were to overlook this glaring trifecta of flaws,
you would see that Rico is a very honorable young man, worthy of almost
anyone’s trust; just don’t let him be in charge of your money. It was because
of his true kind nature that he and I had become instant friends.
It had taken a bit for my brain to
register what he had said, but once it had I spoke up.
“Wait a second, what’s the
champagne for?” I asked.
I immediately followed that up
with, “You said all you ever drink is that nasty rot-gut, toilet water junk.”
I was referring to the particular whiskey
brand he preferred to drink. No kidding, the stuff really did look and smell
like water from a used public toilet that hadn’t been flushed in a few days. I
tasted it once and thought I was going to die; imagine drinking fermented
diarrhea and you’d be really close to understanding how vile that stuff really
is.
Rico took another swing at me,
only this time he hadn’t missed. It had looked like he was trying to knock my
block off, but what he was really doing was getting a firm grip on the back of
my head. It wasn’t done mean or nothing, just playfully aggressive. I could
feel his fingers wrapping around the base of my long pony-tail.
“Well it’s true!” I said almost
laughing and gripping his forearm with both hands.
“I missed you Pañal Cabrito!” he
said while still trying to hold me by the hair. “God knows why I missed you;
but I did!”
He started pulling me close and
after a second or two of resistance I gave in, leaned forward and we kissed
like before, only longer.
“I missed you too and you better
stop calling me that or else!” I hissed and tickled his ribs.
The conversation and kissing
dwindled into mutual silent bliss until Rico asked, “So you packing?”
Packing was what Rico called it
when I was wearing a wet or dirty diaper. Actually that one day we spent
together in the foster home, he had asked it so much that I even started saying
it. His asking it now seemed really weird, seeing how I was sitting there stark
naked.
I tilted my head to one side as I
asked, “Did that nasty stuff you drink finally make you go blind?”
Rico didn’t respond so I said, “I
do however smell like a toilet and could use a bath.”
“Tell me about it! And you better
not pee in my car!” he warned.
“I’d say pee is not the thing you
need to worry about coming out of me right now.” I joked.
Rico scrunched up his nose and
stuck out his tongue.
He then looked at me. I mean
really looked at me and repeated his previous statement from a few minutes back,
only he added more to it to really drive home what it was he was trying to say.
“You were stuck with those two for
quite a while.” He said it in such a way as to imply that he was saying more
than he was.
“Don’t take long and lord knows
they had you where they could get to you anytime they wanted.”
I shuttered as Rico’s words
brought back images of those three days. When my foster parents discovered that
I had a wetting and messing problem, they changed from this loving couple to
prison wardens who watched my every move every second of every moment I was
with them. My first day there, after having had an accident in my pants, I was
made to sit for three straight hours sitting on the toilet.
Rico didn’t have to say it, but he
did anyway. “Three days? Plenty long enough for them to have bugged you. Might
have even happened before you got there.”
Fear instantly exploded throughout
my body.
“No, no they didn’t! I would have
known! They didn’t bug me Rico! I am not bugged! I swear it Rico!” I shouted
while beating the door with my elbows to try to escape. I have no idea where I
was planning on going when we were traveling at more than sixty miles an hour.
It isn’t a widely known fact that
eleven of the fifty states use sub-dermal electronic human-tracking devices on
all inmates regardless of age. And four of those eleven states also use them on
all children who are put in state care, whether they are in a juvenile facility
or foster care. The devices are not unlike those used for decades on beloved
pets by their owners. The location where the device is implanted varies, but
the most popular place is deep within the flesh of the left butt cheek.
My first night in the foster home
Rico had told me all about it and how he had found and removed his own tracking
device. He pulled it out of his pocket where he kept it until he was ready to
make his escape. When he finally did leave, he left it under his bed, so that
it would seem he was still in the house, if they started looking for him.
Rico leaned over, opened the glove
compartment and pulled out a short hook-bladed knife with a duct tape handle,
as well as what looked to be a fat green ink pen. Actually, it wasn’t an ink
pen at all; it was a common electrician’s tool for finding live electrical
wires inside walls. It also works great for finding electronic bugs in someone’s
backsides. All you do is drag it across the skin until a small LED light comes
on and it starts beeping. However, the pen wasn’t what alarmed me; it was that
damn knife.
You see, I had been bugged before
and didn’t know it until I had returned to the Banachelli. While I had been
home someone had managed to implant a bug into my hindquarters. The very first
thing that happened when Wambleeska and I got aboard was to have Fyer take us
to his cabin room to check us for tiny transmitters. Unfortunately we both were
found to have them. I don’t know for sure who put that first bug into my butt,
but I have a good solid guess and when I see him again, I am going to kick him
right in the tinderbox! It would be futile for me to attempt to tell you how
much it hurt having that tiny device removed. Suffice it to say that I wasn’t able
to sit for a week afterward.
Rico examined the tip of the hook
bladed knife.
“Oh God Rico no!” I cried as I
scrambled to the backseat out of Rico’s reach; or so I thought.
Rico pulled the car off the main strip,
down a gravel road about half a mile and parked under a large cropping of trees
directly across from a cornfield that went in both directions as far as the eye
could see. He put the car in park, turned off the engine, turned in his seat
and spoke in as caring a voice as he could possibly muster.
“You know damn well that if we
stop moving and you are bugged, it will only be a matter of days, maybe even
hours, before we are located. And if they catch us you’ll get put back in that God
forsaken place, or maybe someplace worse and they’ll probably ship me back to
My face showed every bit of fear
that was coursing though my under-developed thirteen year old body as I cringed
as far away from Rico as I could.
“They didn’t bug me Rico!” I
sobbed as tears flowed like raging rivers down my face. That’s the other thing
about opium, it is great for wiping out negative emotions, but when they do
manage to get through, oh boy watch out!
“I swear they didn’t bug me
again!” Fear gripped me so much, my bowels quivered at a near state of
collapse.
Rico just sighed and rested his
forehead on the headrest. After a minute he looked up at me and saw that I was
still cowering against the back passenger door looking back at him with my face
still contorted with fear and wet with tears.
Without saying a word Rico got out
of the car and went around to the trunk to retrieve something. I took that
opportunity to open the back door. I hit the ground running, but only made it
about ten feet before I tripped and fell. Rico was on me so fast I had no
chance to get up and continue running.
I was screaming and fighting Rico,
“NO! GOD NO! PLEASE RICO NO!”
He did something that stopped all
resistance on my part. He punched me right in the jewels.
“OOOOOOH!” I moaned as I fell to
the ground and curled into a ball.
You know, that is something funny
about getting hit in the balls. No matter who it is, how big they might be, one
swift ball tap and down they go.
“YOU DIRTY...” I called him a
rectum, although I used a much more poignant version of the word, “Why’d you do
that?”
Rico bend down and as he was
picking my nude aching body up to carry me back to the car he said, “Evil, when
we are in its power, is not felt as evil, but as a necessity, or even a duty.”
He dropped me face first on the
backseat and then climbed in on top of me. He was sitting on the backs of my
knees so that there was absolutely no chance of me running away again.
I heard a popping sound and having
thought he had done something to my backside, I let loose a blood curdling scream.
It only turned out to be the cork from one of the champagne bottle.
“I can’t believe you nailed me in
the balls!” I groaned.
“I can’t believe how cute your
little butt is!” he said while giving it a squeeze.
“Hey no squeezing the
merchandise!” I complained.
He then put the bottle to my lips
and said, “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”
He kept pouring it into my mouth
and I had no choice but to drink it or drown. It tasted absolutely nasty; like diluted
unsweetened white cranberry juice mixed with Seven-Up.
He made me take several large
gulps of the champagne and after about five minutes my head began to swim.
Remember I had an empty stomach at the start of all this, so the alcohol in the
champagne went right to my bloodstream and into my brain.
I’m not quite sure how he managed
to do it, but he had flipped me around and had my head in a headlock between
his thighs and continued feeding me from the big green glass bottle. Every time
I would try to speak or move he would shove the bottle into my mouth again.
When he saw I was more than tipsy
he allowed me to sit up. He handed me the bottle, I tilted it up and chugged.
“You’re thirsty.” he said.
I let go one enormous belch that
rattled my fillings.
“Well now. That was disgusting!”
he exclaimed.
Rico held up one of his brown
whiskey bottles and asked, “Would you rather have some of this?”
“I would rather eat diaper gravy
than drink that stuff again.” I said which made him laugh.
“Well drink up. It will help you
not be so hungry too.” He said.
I tilted the champagne bottle back
and took a long swig. Actually, the more I drank the less bitter it seemed to
taste.
I learned something that day... if
you drink something with alcohol on an empty stomach; you are going to get
utterly blitzed out of your skull.
Rico turned so that we were
looking at each other again. My eyes widened a bit, the tears were drying on my
cheeks and a small grin stretched across his face.
“What?” Rico asked.
“You got tw-two heads!”
“And you are getting drunk!” he
said as he handed me a second bottle of that wonderful
“You-you-you know something?” I
started to say, “I-I-I really am sure! I just-I just know they didn’t do it!
You know what else? You-you know what, you know what, you know what they called
me?” I asked, “Do you know?”
“What’s that Pañal?” Rico asked.
I tilted the bottle up and drank
deep. “And stop calling me Pañal! My name is Pañal!” I said followed by another
loud belch.
Rico chuckled and I noticed he now
had three heads.
“I-I-I am going to start calling
you Fluffy.” I said.
“Why Fluffy?” he laughed.
“Cause you have three heads just
like that dog.”
“What dog?”
“You know.” I belched.
“No I don’t.”
I tilted the bottle up again
before answering, “The dog in that book.”
“What book?”
“What?” I grunted.
“You said I look like the three
headed dog in some book. What book do you mean?”
I rubbed my nose and face with the
back of my hand and arm.
“My face tingles.” I said.
“I think you are drunk for sure
now.” Rico commented.
I tried to lean forward but
couldn’t, so I resigned to becoming a permanent part of the back seat.
“You know what? I might be drunk,
but I know something I am not!” I said.
“What’s that Pañal?”
“Stop calling me that!” I said
with a hiccup.
“OK, what are you not then?” he
asked again.
“I-I-I might be, um, what you
said...”
“Drunk?” Rico offered.
“Yeah that.” I burped again,
“But!” I said loudly while holding up a droopy but determined finger, “I...
uh.”
“What?” Rico asked.
“What, uh, what was I saying?” I
asked.
“You were saying you are not
something.”
“Oh yeah. Thank you. You-You know
something?” I asked, but answered without waiting for Rico’s response. “I
really like you Rico!”
“You and I are two souls woven
together by God and can never be unraveled, but tell me what you are not.” He
said poetically.
“Wow!” I said.
“Wow what?” he said back.
I hiccupped as I said, “That was
beautiful what you just said.”
Rico growled like a dog to himself
before saying, “Yeah-Yeah! Don’t change the subject again. Tell me what you
aren’t.”
“Oh yeah!” I burped loudly again
before I finally told him, “I-I am not bugged!”
I think he might have laughed a
little when he said, “I’m glad to hear it.”
Rico held out his bottle of
whiskey, linked it against my large green champagne bottle and said, “Let’s
drink on it!”
I tilted the bottle back and chugged until my
stomach could hold no more.
“Well, I wish I was as sure as you are, but
there is only one way I will be, Pañal...” he stopped and corrected himself, “I
mean Simon.”
“You know something?”
“Now what?” he asked.
“Don’t tell Rico but I kind of
like it when he calls me Pañal.”
“Ok I wont breathe a word.”
After several minutes I tried to sit
up again, but again I failed. I took one last swig from the bottle before
saying a word meaning excrement only not quite as polite sounding.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Look down.” I said.
He did and then exclaimed loudly,
“SIMON YOU’RE PEEING ALL OVER THE CAR!”
And then I promptly passed out
cold.
~ To Be Continued ~