December Exclusive - "Christmas Glow" - Part 2 of 2

It’s a different story when Madison wakes up. A different song.

It’s the same family, but they’re not focused on the puppy anymore. Now, they’re all about their morning routine. There’s a whole thing about teeth brushing, a big deal about getting dressed.

Madison blinks at the TV screen. She could listen to the new song; she could watch all the colors. She’s comfortable, wrapped up in a blue blanket. But the truth is, Cocomelon strikes her as more than a little lame.

She removes her thumb from her mouth and rubs her eyes with her fists. She has better things to do than watch cartoons.

She’s distracted momentarily but the lights on the windowsill – what did Abbie call that again? – and then she turns her attention to more pressing matters.

Like the fact that she’s alone in her neighbor’s living room. And the fact that she’s pretty sure she’s naked under the blanket.

She lifts the blanket up to confirm, and immediately feels a blush. The redness gets warmer when she learns that she’s not completely naked.

Madison reaches down and pulls at the tabs on her thick underwear.

She’s wearing a diaper.

This must be a prank. It’s like a clip from one of those dumb YouTube channels she laughs along to with her friends. Rémi GAILLARD or Whatever.

In another world, this would be funny.

It’s not funny at all here, because it’s happening to her.

Seriously, Madison has been pranked by a girl so unpopular, none of her friends even know she exists?

It’s not possible. It’s unheard of.

Madison tries to swallow, but her mouth is dry. Did Abbie drug her? It’s the only explanation.

She thinks of her neighbor, armed with the crappy iPhone. There could be footage online right now, Madison could be going viral for the worst of reasons.

Madison’s hands bunch into fists. Abbie had called herself the ‘favorite babysitter’ and Madison had agreed.

But at least the foggy confusion is fading. What did Abbie say, back in Mom’s SUV? The Christmas ‘glow.’

I’m your favorite babysitter, and you’re good as gold for me. Good as glow.

Madison’s hands bunch into fists.

The Cocomelon song fades and is immediately followed by a new one. The TV screen promises a never-ending supply of infantile nonsense.

Madison reaches for the TV remote and presses a red button that turns off the set.

Silence. And darker now, except for the candles on the windowsill.

Madison sits up covering her chest with the blue blanket. There’s no sign of her clothes, her phone, her everything.

Go home. Tell Daddy. Madison feels her jaw harden. Abbie’s father might be some kind of scientist, but Abbie’s is a lawyer. He will take Abbie to the cleaners.

Madison stands up, keeps the blanket held around her like a rob. She walks carefully to the hall, imagining that she trips over the blanket and slams her head into the coffee table. They would find here there, concussed or dead, the teenage girl wearing nothing but a diaper.

She blushes harder, but she’s now more angry than embarrassed.

She will tell her father. He will destroy that girl.

In her mind, Madison is already back home, back in her regular clothes, watching as her father promises to fix this.

In reality, she has barely left the living room when a door opens and a bearded, bespectacled man stands in her way.

“Maddie,” says Abbie’s father. He looks her up and down, and then looks past her shoulder. “Where’s Abbie?”

Madison has never been so grateful for a blanket. She wraps it more tightly around her body and says, “Your daughter is in big trouble.”

Mr. Geller raises an eyebrow, seems lost for words, and then nods. “You know, Maddie, we’ve been here before.”

Madison frowns. “Excuse me?”

The man waves around them with one hand and retrieves his smartphone with the other. “I mean, we’ve done this before.” He looks towards the stairway. “Abbie!” He smiles at Madison. “We’re not normally so sloppy.”

“What are you talking about?” Madison wants to leave but she also wants an answer. Why hasn’t Abbie’s father asked about the blanket?

He chuckles. “Happy holidays.” And then he points his phone at Madison and takes a photo.

At least, it seems like he’s taking a photo. The flash goes off – a blinding light at least, a force that Madison can feel on her skin, like a warm bath, and then the phone is gone, and Mr. Geller’s face is an inch away from her own.

“Whatcha…watcha doin’?” Madison asks, and she would blush at her poor diction if she didn’t have bigger things to think about. Like the brightness. Like the everything.

“Better?” asks Mr. Geller. Doctor Geller, Madison remembers. Because he’s very clever. He’s a scientist, he knows all about brains.

She blinks. But not like a zombie.

He looks deeply into Madison’s eyes, as though he’s giving her some kind of eye exam.

“You’re not a zombie,” Madison mutters. She nods to herself. “You’re…yourra doc-tuh.”

Dr. Geller laughs softly. “I’m not a zombie. Thank goodness.” He ushers the girl back into the living room, guiding her to the candles on the windowsill.

“Like it?” asks Dr. Geller.

Madison nods. “All…spark-wee.”

“You can touch it if you want to,” he says. “They’re not real candles, just LED.”

Madison nods, even though she’s not sure if the candles are safe or not. They look so impossibly bright, so beautifully overwhelming, that there’s no way Madison will touch them. She doesn’t want to get burned, she doesn’t want to be reduced to ashes.

“It’s a Hanukkiah,” says Dr. Geller. “Or a Hanukkah menorah. Can you count the candlesticks?”

Madison tries, she does her best. She points at each one with a finger, and the blanket is loose, hanging on her shoulders. She counts as far as the fingers on one hand, and then she’s lost.

Dr. Geller is kind enough to finish the job for her. “Nine candlesticks. One for each night of Hanukkah and an extra one to light the others.” He strokes Abbie’s hair. “Funny how you never remember that.”

Madison nods. It is funny, because they’ve been here before, just like Abbie’s father said in the hallway. Madison can feel the previous versions of the conversation in her head, like dim echoes of before.

“It’s okay,” says Dr. Geller. “You don’t have to worry about the big names.” He smiles at her. “You can just enjoy the glow.”

Madison’s eyes widen further at the mention of Abbie’s word.

“Glu-glow,” she whispers, and then she giggles.

“Lost your blankie,” the doctor says gently.

Madison looks down and finds that the blue blanket is on the floor, covering her feet.

She frowns. When did that happen? She considers her lack of clothing – is she allowed to be naked? She doesn’t feel embarrassed, but she is mildly curious. Is she being naughty?

“Silly Maddie,” says Dr. Geller indulgently. “Every year, you always get so silly.” He pats her on the head and Madison giggles. She’s not naughty, she’s silly. And what could be wrong with that?

“Sorry!” A voice from behind, and Madison turns to see Abbie.

“No harm done,” Abbie’s father says, “I gave her a second treatment. But you shouldn’t really let the baby run around without her clothes on.”

Abbie nods. “I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t find her dress. But I got it all ready now.” She takes hold of Madison’s hand. “Come on, nakie girl, let’s get you dressed for your mommy and daddy. Time to go home!”

Madison lets herself be walked to the stairway, even as she shakes her head. “Noh nakie,” she argues. “Gotta dy-puh.”

Abbie laughs. “Fair point.” They walk to Abbie’s bedroom. “But seriously, your father wouldn’t be impreesed if I dropped you off in just a diaper. Which is why we’ve got your special dress!”

Madison doesn’t know about special dresses, until she looks at the outfit hanging up and then she does. She remembers the red sparkles. She remembers all if it, but she loves Abbie telling her the story anyway.

She is a doll; she lets Abbie dress her up. First, the thick white tights and a pair of shiny black Mary Janes. And then the stretch velvet Santa dress, with the red sequin bodice and the white faux fur cuffs and hem. She stands perfectly still while Abbie adjusts the white satin band with the bow. She doesn’t fuss while Abbie brushes her hair, fixing it with a matching red hairband.

“There,” says Abbie, nodding with satisfaction. “Perfect.” She stands Madison in front of the full-length mirror. “Santa’s little helper, right?”

“Sanna,” Madison agrees. She runs a finger down the front of her dress, grinning at as the sequins sparkle. “Pree,” she says, and she puts a finger in her mouth. She’s never looked so pretty, so perfect. She is dressed in sparkles; she is covered in Christmas glow. And yet, she has done this before. She has done this many times. Which is a strange idea and a perfectly acceptable one at the same time.

“Thing is,” says Abbie, fussing at the sleeves and skirt of Madison’s dress, “you’re getting kind of old for this, and I was thinking we might not do it this year.” She sighs. “But your daddy told us that you pretty much asked for it the other day.” She strokes Madison’s cheek. “My dad says you don’t remember all of this afterwards, but I think there’s a little bit of Christmas glow that stays in your head.” She shrugs. “Maybe that’s what makes you so nice to everyone for the rest of the time. But maybe it’s also what makes you so greedy when it comes to Christmas. And you asked for even more this year…”

Abbie gently removes Madison’s finger from her mouth, prompting a vague tingle of anxiety in the infantilized teen’s mind, before Abbie replaced the finger with a red pacifier that is just as sparkly as the Santa dress.

Madison looks at her reflection and chortles. “Spa-kuls!” she mumbles around the pacifier delightedly.

“Perfect,” says Abbie again. She pulls her neighbor in for a hug and whispers, “I kinda like you better this way, to be honest.” She steps back and looks Madison up and down. “And it won’t be that bad, not really. If your daddy lets you recover a little, you can be his sweet little girl for the holidays. You might not even need your diaper!”

Madison nods and smiles, even though she’s pretty sure that she’ll need her diaper because it already feels damp between her legs.

It’s time to go downstairs, for Dr. Geller to take a final look at Madison’s eyes and declare her fit to go home.

“Much better,” says Abbie’s father. He winks at Madison. “I heard a rumor that your mommy and daddy have an early Christmas present for you. Something straight from the North Pole.”

Madison jumps up and down with excitement. She hugs the man who created the treatment that has left her mind like a toddler’s, and then Abbie takes her back next door.

The cool air outside is enough to bring some sense back to Madison. It has gotten dark, and Madison wonders how long she spent napping on Abbie’s couch, how long she spent watching the silly cartoon. There is less glow, just in the few feet between the two houses.

At least she’s dressed. At least she’s wearing the prettiest of dresses. Madison reaches up to touch her hairband, looks down at her sequins, and it makes her feel better, until she’s standing in her own living room in front of her father and he says, “Look at you! All dressed up for Christmas!”

“Uh…uh-huh,” Madison replies shyly. It’s the pacifier between her lips that suggests to Madison that not all is right. That perhaps she looks a little babyish.

“All dressed up like a present,” says her father. He tilts his head at Madison. “Did Santa send you, sweetheart? Did he bring you down the chimney?”

Madison giggles and shakes her head. “No-oh! San…Sanna dint sen…”

Her father tugs gently at the white bow on Madison’s dress. “Should I open you up? Are you a toy?”

Madison feels a mixture of hilarity and alarm bubble up in her mind. “Noh, dah-dee!” She steps back, out of his reach. She looks to her friend Abbie, who does such a good job watching her, who really is the very best baby-sitter, but at the moment is looking at Madison with a pitying expression.

Madison looks at her father and tries to use her words. “Nodda pwe-sent, dah-dee.” She nods for emphasis. “I’m a giwl!” She smiles around her pacifier, building in confidence even as her wet diaper squelches between her legs. “Bih giwl!”

Her father frowns. “Oh. Well, that’s the thing.” He points to the Christmas tree, with its sparkling tinsel and lights. “All those presents are for a little girl, not a big one.” He turns to Abbie. “Can I borrow your phone, please Abbie?”

Madison watches as Abbie passes her iPhone.

Madison’s nose wrinkles as she tries to understand what’s happening. There’s something about the phone, something bad. “Whatcha…whatha doin, dah-dee?”

“Pretty girl,” says her father, holding up the camera.

She peers at her father. “Daddy?”

“Smile for Santa!”

Madison smiles reflexively. The camera flashes.

It’s the last straw for Maddie’s intelligence. Her jaw drops open, her knees buckle, and she’s left sitting on the floor, messing her diaper and sucking on her fingers as she gazes at the Christmas tree lights.

And then there’s something in her lap. An early Christmas gift as promised. The neatly wrapped box that Daddy hands Madison glitters almost as much as her special dress. She fumbles at the ribbons, but really as much as she understands that this box is for her, it’s something for good little girls who believe in Santa, she can’t open it herself.

This is okay. This is fine. Because Madison can just stare at the Christmas tree lights instead, she can lose herself in the glow, and she looks up with wide-eyed, empty-headed fascination, drool running down her chin.

It’s left for Abbie to help, and she does, pulling at the ribbon and then tearing at the paper,

“Look, Maddie, it’s a…” Abbie looks at the cube and says to Madison’s father. “What is it?”

“Chew cube,” he replies, getting down on the floor beside his drooling daughter. He smiles as Madison manages to stop gazing at the glowing tree lights long enough to inspect the toy.

“Not that cheap, actually,” he says, laughing. “BPA-free, Phthalate-Free, all that stuff. Which is important,” he tells Madison, “because you’re going to be putting it in your mouth, aren’t you, silly girl.” He takes the pacifier and shakes the cube invitingly.

Madison stares at it and then grabs it, copying her father’s shaking motion and laughing at the rattling noise.

“I know you’re not teething,” her father says mildly, “but it does encourage sensory stimulation, I don’t think you’ll get bored with it.”

Madison shakes the cube again, shrieks with delight, and then puts it to her mouth, chewing on the silicon.

Madison’s father looks up at Abbie. “Great job,” he tells her. “As always. You’ll thank your dad for me.”

Abbie smiles. “Of course.” She crouches down by Madison long enough to kiss the top of her head. “See you soon, Maddie.” She turns to the girl’s father. “Text me when you want us to turn her back?”

He nods. “Maybe take a few more days this year.”

Abbie replies, “Sure, but not too long. Seven days is the limit.” She watches as Madison take the chew cube and stares at the mirrored side.

Abbie shakes her head. Even as a mental toddler, her friend remains obsessed with her own reflection.

Still, she doesn’t deserve to be left like this long-term.

Abbie gives Madison’s father a firm look. “Not more than seven days, right? Any more than that, my dad says the effects can be-“

“Thank your daddy for me,” Madison’s father says, handing Abbie back her phone. “Tell him I think you’re a very good girl.”

Abbie blinks slowly. “Excuse…huh?”

“Very good girl,” he says.

Abbie feels her shoulders relax. She feels her whole mind relax. She nods and smiles. She’s a very good little girl and she’s going to tell her daddy.

“Good girl, Abbie. Such a good helper.”

Abbie nods, blushing with pride. “I helped, Imma…I’m a good helper.” She looks over at the Christmas tree. The lights seem to glow, faintly but it’s there. 

She giggles as happy tingles fill her head, and watches indulgently as Madison clambers into her father’s lap – Maddie’s just a silly, drooly baby, not a big girl like her – and she rushes back home to tell her own daddy what a good helper she’s been.

THE END

When a spoiled daughter writes up a long and expensive list to "Santa", her parents decide that diapers and baby toys would be better - Anonymous1812