January Exclusive - "Alibi" - Part 4

FOUR

Jamie is dressed like a toddler, but everything considered, it could be worse.

They could be back in the examination room, for example. At least in this new room, there’s plenty to look at. So many cool things!

If only Becca wasn’t so bossy.

“You have to drink your juice,” Becca says, thrusting an over-sized sippy cup into Jamie’s hands. “Lots of juice and lots of peeing so you get rid of those icky germs.”

Jamie grunts. He doesn’t have any germs, and he’s not even thirsty. But they’re playing the game, just like with the gray-haired lady, just like with nurse Daisy.

He tilts the sippy cup and sucks down the sweet liquid, knowing that Becca will shower him with praise when he’s done. Because drinking isn’t hard, but she’s pretending he’s dumb. Pretending he’s a stupid toddler in his head.

Is Becca very clever? She must be, this is her plan. Because they have to pretend that Jamie has germs, that he’s silly in his head. They pretend that so he doesn’t get in trouble for doing something naughty.

Doing what? Jamie’s memory of the event is slippery and confusing. It was something bad, something scary. He doesn’t want to think about bad and scary things. If anyone should do that, it’s Becca.

Because Becca’s in charge.

She’s not Jamie’s mommy, of course. The very idea makes Jamie want to snort with laughter, to make juice come shooting out his nose.

But she is clever. To trick Daisy, and the old lady who isn’t Grandma – who isn’t Jamie’s grandma – into thinking Jamie is just a little boy in his head.

He watches Becca, his clever friend, as she takes a cookie from the plate. Chocolate chip. Jamie wanted one as well, but Becca said he had to drink his juice first. And Becca’s in charge.

The cookies must be good. Did Jamie have one before, when he was answering Daisy’s questions so well? Probably. Maybe. Things are hard to remember. Things that happened before Becca came to pick him up.

No, things that happened before Jamie wet his diaper. All those things. And that’s a lot of things, because Jamie isn’t really a little boy, he’s all grown up. But he’s not allowed to tell anyone that. It’s a secret. It’s a funny, secret game that Becca made up for them to play. So they don’t get into trouble and can go home, and Jamie can have a bubble bath and a nap.

But not a story. Stories are for babies.

He sips his drink. Just as fruity as the juice he drank before, the juice that Daisy gave him when she was asking him all the questions the first time.

He watches Becca finish her cookie. She must like it; her cheeks are rosy, and she has a dreamy look in her eyes. And then she blinks, licks her fingers. “Wow,” she whispers. “That’s nummy.” She giggles and then takes another of the cookies.

They must be very good. Jamie really isn’t thirsty, but he finishes empties the sippy cup and holds it out to Becca.

“All done?” she asks, her mouth full of cookie.

He nods, and then feels a faint but noticeable glow of pride when she says, “There’s my good boy! Wanna cookie?”

Jamie nods and grins.

Becca stuffs the remains of her second cookie into her mouth and then plucks another cookie from the plate. She goes to pass it to Jamie and then drops it on the floor.

“Oopsy!” she exclaims, and then giggles. “Butter…butter fingers!” She laughs, pointing at the cookie.

Jamie crouches to pick up the cookie, feeling the bulge of his diaper. He looks at Becca, expecting her to say that he can’t have it. That it’s covered in icky germs. Instead, she just smiles, so the cookie must not be icky.

Jamie points towards the first aisle of toys. “Pway?” he asks.

“Choose,” Becca corrects, her laughter subsiding. “How many toys did the lady say you could have?”

Jamie thinks back to the gray-haired lady. Those memories aren’t murky, those are from almost now. He holds up a finger.

“Clever boy,” says Becca, her tone syrupy-sweet. “One toy.” She grabs another of the cookies before taking Jamie by the hand and walking him over to the toys.

The first section has a numbered sign: 8-10.

Jamie looks enthusiastically at the toys on offer. Lots of cool things for a boy like him. Nerf guns, Spider-Man webs shooters. Jamie crams the cookie into his mouth and grabs a remote-control truck with both hands.

“Want it,” he declares confidently.

Becca nods, her mouth again full of cookie. And then she shakes her head. “Too oh,” she mumbles.

Jamie tilts his head at her. What’s wrong with the truck? He imagines playing with it once they’re back home, scooting it along the wooden floors. No, not scooting, because it’s remote control! Maybe he can play with it before his bath and nap? He presses on the packaging and feels a sense of urgency about the toy that matches the building pressure in his bladder. Stupid juice, making him pee all the time and making everyone think he needs diapers like a baby.

Becca swallows the rest of her cookie, and then she smiles unsteadily at Jamie before shaking her finger. “Not…gonna work, Jamie.” She produces an open-mouthed belch before waving at the numbered sign. “Too old! You need shum…something for really little kish…kids.”

Jamie pouts. He doesn’t want a baby toy. But he doesn’t resist when Becca takes the truck from his hands and puts it back on the shelf. Because Becca is in charge. Even if Becca is looking unsteady on her feet, even though she’s starting to sound funny, she’s still in charge. Because if she isn’t, who on Earth is?

“Come on, honeybun,” says Becca, giggling some more. “Lesh…let’s find you a better toy.”

Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s find something and get out of here. As they walk, Jamie is reminded of the pressure on his bladder. What, is he going to have to wet his diaper again? It was silly enough the first time!

He quickens his pace and toddles to the next aisle. He looks up at the sign. The numbers are easy, but Jamie’s eyes are lazy, they must need a nap like the rest of them.

He looks at the toys – Lego is cool, but Matchbox cars are cooler. Jamie smiles, imagining making the sound effects to match. So are these toys enough? He looks questioningly at Becca and she shakes her head, points to the far end of the room.

Jamie huffs and jogs over, his diaper so thick and inconvenient, his bladder so hot and heavy. He passes toys with patterns that remind him of when he wet his diaper before, and he pauses, reaches out for a pink plush horse with a familiar horn on its head.

Becca catches up and laughs. “Thas for giwls, silly!” She hugs him clumsily. “And yorra boy!”

Jamie continues to the end of the room. He’ll be glad when they’re out of here, back home and having their nap. Becca must need a nap too; she’s sounding so silly. They can nap together, in the same bed and everything.

“Cups!” Becca shrieks excitedly, startling Jamie.

She indicates the perfect toy by jabbing two fingers towards it. Jamie looks at a set of colored cups. Blue, red, green, and…Jamie furrows his brow, and then he shouts just as loud as Becca, “Pupple!”

Becca nods. “Puh…pupple,” she echoes. She pats Jamie’s shoulder. “Thassa…thassa good boy.”

Yes, he is. Jamie is a good boy. He’s a smart cookie. But he doesn’t want the stacking cups. It’s too much, too babyish. He looks back at the earlier aisles, stares pleadingly towards the Legos and toy cars.

But Becca has decided. And Becca is in charge. Silly, slurring Becca, with chocolate-stained fingers. She takes the box of cups and thrusts them into Jamie’s grasp. “There you…there you go.” She nods, blinks so slowly that Jamie wonders if she’s about to fall asleep.

Could they do that? Could they take a nap right here in the special toy store? Maybe they. Maybe they’d feel better after that, and then they could go home.

But Becca isn’t asleep. She opens her eyes and pats the box of cups with her hands. “Cups for baby,” she says slowly, careful with her diction. And then she nods and points at Jamie. “Cause yorra baby,” she says. She grins. “Baby in your head!”

Jamie pouts. Becca isn’t being nice. “I’m notta bay- “ he begins.

“Yorra baby!” cries Becca with a look of drunken delight, and she pushes Jamie.

And it’s not a hard push, but it’s enough to send Jamie backwards, still holding the plastic box of cups, and he ends up on his bottom.

He takes a breath. Ready to cry, ready to let it all out.

Becca puts a hand to her mouth. “Oh! I’m sorr…suh-sorry, I dint…” She sits down across from Jamie and says, “It was on ack-ack..accident.”

It’s okay. Jamie isn’t going to cry. Focused on his fall, on his surprise at Becca’s rough treatment, he forgot about his bladder. Forget all about it until he feels the hot wetness flood his diaper, rushing around his crotch.

Making rainbows and unicorns.

He can’t see his diaper this time. But the rainbows and unicorns are there all the same, he knows it. He can feel it between his legs, he can feel it in his head. It’s everywhere, flooding his body and mind with pleasure as his tangled, battered intelligence fades.

He sits in his warm, sodden diaper, clutching his prize against his chest, smiling innocently as the plan, the game of pretend, is replaced by the reality of a two-year-old’s awareness.

“Hey, honeybuns.”

Jamie looks up to find Daisy looking down at them. He waves and giggles.

She flutters a wave back. “You’re feeling even better now, I can see.” She crouches and strokes his hair. “Isn’t it nice when you don’t have to pretend anymore?”

Jamie doesn’t have the language to answer the question, he doesn’t have the intelligence to understand it. But he enjoys the nurse’s sing-song tone and gentle touch. He holds out the package of cups, a simple offer of sharing. “Popple,” he says with authority. “Popple an’ boo.”

Daisy smiles at him. “Such a smart cookie, honeybun.”

The nurse turns her attention to Becca. “How about you, hon? You still pretending or you want to feel be good like Jamie?”

Becca stares at the nurse, open-mouthed. “But…I don’t…” She points at Jamie. “He got icky ger…germs.” And she nods, wide-eyed, attempting a picture of innocence.

Daisy pats Daisy’s head. “It’s okay, hon.” She uses the same sing-song tone to explain. “We already knew all about Jamie. He spilled the beans after eating a couple of those special cookies. Hard to keep a secret when your head’s all bouncy and airy. But then he forgot about that, and then you came to pick him up and Jamie was pretending so hard that he was little.” Daisy laughs softly. “Don’t think he’s pretending any more, do you, hon?”

Becca looks at Jamie, who is sucking on his fingers and looking back at them with a glassy-eyed expression.

“And that’s okay,” says the nurse. She strokes Becca’s back. “It’s time for me to change Jamie, I know he’s wet his diaper. I’ll change his diaper and let him play with his lovely new toy. And I think it’s time for your vitamins, sweetie.”

Becca blinks in confusion. “Vid…vidda-minsh?”

“That’s right, sugar. Special vitamins, to help your sweet little head. Because you look more than a little confused, there, honeybun. You were so greedy with those cookies and now you’re all tipsy!” Daisy raises an eyebrow and asks playfully, “Hmmm, is that how you’re feeling? Are you a tipsy girl?

Jamie watches as Becca’s expression changes. A fierce look that Jamie knows to mean that Becca is concentrating. Like when they would talk about plans when she wanted to understand every detail.

She must be trying to remember something. Something really important.

Daisy knows it too. She giggles. “Are you thinking about your plan, hon? Are you thinking that you were so careful to pretend? But there were microphones in the exam room, sweetie, I heard every word.” She laughs again. “But I know it’s hard to understand about complicated things like microphones.”

Becca puts a finger to her mouth and frowns.

Jamie knows that Becca is concentrating extra hard. She’s going to say something smart.

Daisy taps Becca lightly on the nose. “It’s so hard, when you’re a tipsy girl!”

Jamie watches as Becca’s expression changes once more. Her face relaxes, slackens, her head even wobbles a little before she giggles and announces, her voice slurring the words, “Imma tippee giwl!”

Daisy nods with satisfaction. “Thought so. Come on, you two.” She helps Jamie and Becca to their feet and then she takes them back through to the examination room.

THE END