Tale #153: The Odd-Tism

Tale #153: The Odd-Tism (Content Tags: Humiliation, poverty, messing, treated dumbly, makeshift diaper) "He's got the odd-tism and the HD ADD, so he's gonna be needin' them gubmint checks; he's downright tarted, with them big ol' Pampers an' errything." Kenny's custody had shifted a handful of times in the last few years; from his deadbeat daddy, to his senile grammy, to his drunk-as-a-skunk mama, and now he'd found his alleged forever-home with his trashy, scheming Aunt Clara. It'd been a heck of a ride to get strapped to over the last nine years of his life, but he'd gotten used to the chaos in some ways; he's adjusted to the unpredictability and instability of how things went. What he hadn't been expecting was that he'd become a commodity to be cashed in, and that in doing so, he'd be losing the little dignity that he'd desperately managed to scrape together for himself over the course of his short existence thus far. He was no stranger to his caretakers living life in the grey zone of morality; his daddy had been a petty crook that bounced more checks than a bounce house in the Czech Republic, and his mama had made a game out of getting Kenny to apply the five-finger discount wherever they went. Kenny had been hoping that his aunt would be different, but she seemed to be cut from the same cloth as her fraudster of a brother. It'd been but a month ago that he'd been directed by an overly apologetic social worker onto the ramshackle property where he'd be living from now on; toys littered the yard, a broken-down car sat rusted, and a full clothesline suggested that the occupant wasn't willing to spend the money on modernizing their lifestyle. The house had apparently once belonged to his paternal grandparents, whenever they had still been alive, but had shifted hands to his aunt in a will that appeared somewhat unscrupulous. Kenny hadn't seen it before, so he couldn't determine if it'd always been in such bad shape, or if his aunt had just been that poor of a caretaker for it. Clara had put on all smiles and sugar for the drop off that day; she was a wiry woman, with a cigarette perpetually hanging on her lip, and with tired eyes that suggested a lifetime of strife. She talked funny, similar to how his daddy had talked, but with a less worldly wilt; his daddy had been a shyster that crisscrossed the midwest like a choo-choo train, so even in the depths of his criminality, he'd always showcased a breadth of experience, wit, and charisma. His older sister, Clara, had instead stayed right in the podunk town that she'd been born into. She'd never looked to better herself in any meaningful way, and though she'd dropped out of school before graduating even junior high, she had never once thought of herself as an unintelligent person. In some ways, that was true. Clara was obviously ignorant in a lot of ways, but she wasn't stupid; the woman was like her little brother in being a grifter, but she'd always looked for the easy way out in less objectively criminal ways. She wasn't forging checks or setting up shell games on the sidewalk, but instead was skirting legal lines in ways that carried no risk of punitive action. Kenny had found out pretty quickly what tactics the woman liked to use, starting with the gaudy tights that she put on him to advertise the MLM she was surprisingly thriving in. The weathered home housed more than just a single, uncouth woman though. She didn't have a husband, but she did have a boyfriend, and she had a small gaggle of her own kids from whatever previous marriages that she'd stumbled out of. The oldest kid was an older teenager named Richard, with a juvenile record and a penchant for changing girlfriends every couple of months; next was Britney, who was fifteen and usually put in charge of the younger kids; then came Juniper, who was nearly twelve and was surprisingly bookish for the soil from which she'd sprung; following her was Terrence, a boy only a year older than Kenny, but with bullying behavior that'd make a thug blush. On the side that was younger than Kenny, there were the twins, Sammy and Samantha, who were respectfully a con-artist in training and a prissy beauty pageant participant; finally, there was Ray-Ray, a mischievous Kindergartner who had yet to be pottytrained. All in all, that made for seven other kids who were living in this squalor; add the two adults and Kenny, and it was a ten person household. It wasn't a tiny house, but it wasn't grand either, which obviously led to some cramped living quarters. Richard claimed the basement as a room of his own, and Britney lived in a room above the garage, but none of the younger kids got digs to themselves. The girls, Juniper and Samantha, got a bedroom to share. The boys, Terrence, Sammy, Kenny, and Ray-Ray got one between them too. Kenny didn't even get a bed to himself, since he was smaller than Sammy, he was sharing the bottom bunk of a bunk bed with Ray-Ray, while Sammy claimed the top. Regardless of the chaos that he'd been tossed into, he'd been doing the best he could. Kenny was an anxious kid, a meek one, and he didn't have an easy time of standing up for himself; this had manifested itself as a problem for him in multiple unforeseen ways, especially when contrasting so starkly with the personalities of his loud cousins. Within the first few days, he'd learned that he should avoid Richard,Terrence, and Samantha to the best of his ability; meanwhile he'd found Juniper to be the most like him, and that Sammy and Ray Ray made for somewhat suitable playmates. He was neutral on Britney, at least at that time, and the feeling had been reciprocated by the teenage girl who just saw him as another little kid to look after. He'd thought that his arrival, or rather his addition, would have provoked more resentment. The family obviously wasn't financially sound, which showed in a plethora of blatant ways, and he thought that he would only be adding more bills to the table. Nobody seemed to think that way though, which made him feel accepted, but also dropped his guard to what would actually end up being his role here. Aunt Clara was a schemer, she was a grifter, and she wouldn't have taken in another brat unless she had a plan to take advantage of the situation. As Kenny would find out, the woman didn't care that he was her nephew, or think that he deserved a nurturing, dignified environment to prosper in; Clara saw him as a walking, talking bag of money to exploit. The start of that exploitation would be found in Kenny's medical history, as incomplete as it was with how lackluster his parental care had been up until this point. At some point, now years ago, he'd been tagged with early 'warning signs' of both autism and ADHD, which Clara had seen before she'd agreed to take him in. Did he actually have either of those conditions? It was tough to tell. He had quirks, sure, but those could be easily attributed to the instability of his livelihood over the course of his life. His education was poor too, since he'd been in and out of public school, depending on whoever his caretakers had been at each time. He also had IBS, but it'd yet to be diagnosed, and flare-ups hadn't been as much of a problem at his other homes. Stress and changes to his daily diet would make it a problem though, and it'd be another feather in the cap of Clara's grift. The first big shift would happen on a random Tuesday during the second week of his short time settling into the new house. Him, Sammy, and Ray Ray had been playing outside in the yard after a vile lunch of canned ravioli. Him and Sammy were pretending to cross swords with some sticks that they'd found, while Ray Ray was building a castle out of dirt. The clothesline flapped in the wind, showing about a dozen cloth diapers that would usually be fitted around the delayed tyke; Ray Ray typically wore cloth diapers to alleviate costs, with disposables being a backup option, but he currently had neither available. Turning to the truly trashy alternative, his aunt had 'diapered' the boy in the Sunday paper, meaning that he was toddling around with 'The Boondocks' and 'Family Circus' printed upon his crinkly rump. Kenny had come enough out of his shell to lightly tease the sight whenever he'd come down for breakfast, and it wasn't like the younger boy had taken any offense, but it had brought a deeper question to Kenny's head. Why was Ray Ray still wearing diapers? The boy was five years old, and while certainly not the brightest, he didn't seem to have any problems that would have made pottytraining a fool's errand to undertake. Kenny's own parents had been pretty quick to get him pottytrained, on account of the cost and annoyance of handling diapers, and he'd never seen anyone past the toddling age still wearing them. He'd thought to ask Ray Ray himself, but was worried it might be a delicate subject, so he instead had decided to ask Sammy about it while they crossed their 'blades' like valiant knights. "Umm, Sam? Can I ask a question?" The red-haired rogue took a step back and pretended to sheathe the stick in his hand, "Like what?" Kenny gave the younger boy off on the side another cursory look, "Why...Ummm... Ain't he kinda big for diapers?" Sammy had looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging, "I guess. He got all ornery the las' time that Britney tried takin' them Pampers away; said he din't wanna go sit on the pot. He knows how, he ain't stupid or nothin', but I guess he'd jus' rather dook in his britches like a big, dumb baby." It was a pretty plain assertion, and it seemed sensible enough for what Kenny had already come to see for himself. There were a lot of kids in this house, and his aunt was borderline neglectful as it was, so it passed the smell test to say that nobody had pushed the issue as much as they should. It still came across as a shock though, for Kenny to accept that a kid as old as Ray Ray would willingly choose to remain relegated to such an infantile prison around his waist, or that he'd so eagerly make stool in his own pants like a mushbrained toddler. Even with as abnormal of an upbringing as his, Kenny still had a firm understanding of social rules regarding such matters. Then, as if to perfectly punctuate the answer that Sammy had given, Ray Ray leaned forward and put his palms flat on the dirt. He lifted his comic-adorned rump from the soil of the earth, but only so that he could contribute with an earthy soil of his own, without any second thoughts or hesitations. A low, wet fart sputtered slowly into the makeshift poosack, and quiet grunting could be heard coming from the boy. Kenny had already seen Ray Ray mess himself a handful of times since he'd arrived, though typically in a real diaper up until this point, but it still was a novelty that attracted his juvenile sensibilities. "Guess he's layin' a big ol' stinker now." Sammy commented, pretending to pinch his nose in disgust. "Prolly won't even fuss about it to nobody; he'll jus' keep playin' in the dirt, with a big ol' whopper in his pants." The newspaper began to rustle and crinkle as the first firm log pushed into the back, and Kenny could see a small bulge being formed from the smoldering mass. The little boy's face got a little redder, and he got up on his haunches, as he appeared to realize that a bit more effort would be required of him. His grunting became a little louder, and then flatulence propelled another steamer to crash full-throttle into the makeshift diaper. The lump in back became far more pronounced, and with a sigh of relief, Ray Ray reached his hand in back to give the warm bulge a feel. "He's gonna get made fun of at school. Diapers are for babies." Kenny commented, sounding half-amused and half-sympathetic. "Prolly. Mama ain't even signed him up for Kindie-garden this year; said she was gonna wait until he turned six to put him in school. Lucky duck gets to play all day; it's a perfect scam." Sammy snickered, watching as his little brother admired his own handiwork. "Would you wanna wear diapers if it meant gettin' out of goin' to school?" Kenny raised an eyebrow, though his tone was clearly playful. "Heck nah!" Ray Ray finally sat back flat on his rump, and the fresh load smeared itself across his buttcheeks, which also gave a faint discoloration to the newspaper he'd so messily defiled. He didn't look bothered in the least, even as flies began to slowly congregate around and on top of the stinky garment. Kenny's inquiry and subsequent commentary on Ray Ray would come to be a little ironic during that afternoon. He'd been genuine in being as appalled as he was curious, and he really couldn't imagine still wearing such a thing at that age, but he'd neglected to confess that he'd had his own issues with soiling in the past, and that he'd also been threatened with diapers with each different caretaker that he'd been the ward of. His IBS, which was still an unknown factor to him and everyone else, had indeed meant that he'd occasionally have an unfortunate mishap in his briefs. Most times he'd been able to take care of it himself, since his past caretakers hadn't been paying too much attention to him, and the accidents were fairly rare, but it was still a history that would come to haunt him. More-so than his previous living situations, the food here was abysmal for his delicate gut. It was cheap, heavily processed garbage with too few nutrients and too many additives. It tasted okay enough, as his palate wasn't all that refined, but it had already started to bring havoc to his bowels. In the week that he'd been here, he'd had more close-calls than he'd had over the last several months prior. And so it would come to a bubbling, unpleasant (turtle) head. He and Sammy had still been playing, now with toy guns, and Ray Ray had opted to impose himself on their fun. It was cops and robbers, with Sammy being the robber and Ray Ray being his stinky hostage. Kenny had been really enjoying himself, since he had missed out on having easily accessible playmates in the past, and so he'd been ignoring vital signs that his body was trying to send him. While pointing his plastic gun at Sammy, and trying to 'talk him off the ledge', as he'd seen coppers on TV do, he felt a boiling cramp that couldn't be simply ignored. The boy winced, but he didn't stop what he was doing, instead keeping on with his role in their imaginary game. He pretended to shoot the gun out of Sammy's hand, perhaps in an attempt to expedite the scene they were entangled in, but that seemed to make Sammy opt for a different route. Before Kenny knew what was happening, Sammy was charging him and tackling him to the ground, to wrestle the gun out of his hands too. "You'll never take me alive, piggy!" It had happened too fast for Kenny to make a plead for peace, or even to call a pause to the game, and the sudden crash to the ground had been far too much for his weakened control to handle. So while he was on the ground, the plastic gun being wrenched from his tiny fingers, he could feel a very hot piece of mushy poop oozing out into his underpants without any flatulent fanfare. It was sizable, but fortunately not nearly as much as what Ray Ray was happily sporting, and Kenny was able to regain control over his bowels fairly quickly. It was around that time that Britney came outside to holler at them to come eat dinner, and so a giggling Sammy rolled off of Kenny and got back to his feet. "Hey Britney, Ray Ray dooked himself pretty bad. Did a big, stinky dump right on top of Family Circus." Kenny got to his own feet, more shakily, and was blushing profusely. He figured nobody could tell what he had done himself, especially with the other boy masking the smell, but it still required his immediate attention. What he hadn't been counting on was that the sticky load in his pants had been more of a mess than he realized, and that the back of his shorts were sporting an ugly, brown streak down the middle. That was where the misfortunes would start. That was the genesis of the diapers he would soon be put in, the diagnoses he would he saddled with, and the ultimate role that he'd be made to play in his new family. Clara had already been cooking up a scheme to exploit him, and he'd inadvertently made her job all the easier.