Witness Protection - Part 1

“So I’m getting a new name?” Caroline asked dubiously, as the car sped down the highway. She didn’t like the idea of witness protection. She was used to the life of a wealthy young socialite from the city, and she wasn’t keen at all on leaving it all behind, even if it was only for a few weeks like the agency promised. But what choice did she have? She shuddered at the thought of the De Vries getting to her. The crime family were notorious for the cruel and unusual punishments they inflicted on the people who had wronged them.

“It’s not just your name,” Mr Harris, the agent, replied. “You can be tracked by your habits, your tastes, your sense of style, so all of that’s got to change as well. The agency has a full character profile for you to adopt.” Keeping his eyes on the road, he reached over to open the glove compartment and take out a brown file, which he handed to her. “That’s the new you.”

Caroline opened the file. “Betsy Jackson?” she read with distaste. That was a hick name if ever she’d heard one. Surely nobody could look at her with her sleek, silver-blonde hair and elegantly made-up face and think she was a Betsy Jackson. It got worse. “What the fuck?!” she exclaimed, staring down at the paper. “What is this, Harris? It says I live in a fucking trailer park!”

“A trailer park out in the country is the perfect place for you,” said Mr Harris. He was the very model of a government agent with his dark suit and glasses, and his totally impassive expression. “It’s the last place the De Vries will expect you to be.”

“That’s because it’s the last place I’d want to be!” Caroline shrieked. “I am not going to live in a trailer park! Put me somewhere else!”

“The arrangements have already been made, Caroline,” Mr Harris said flatly. “We can’t just create a whole new identity for you because you didn’t like this one. It’s either this, or nothing.”

Caroline flushed with anger and went back to reading the file, scowling. It’s just for a few weeks, she told herself. Just a few weeks until the agency makes its move and all the De Vries get locked away, then you’ll be free to go home. Something on the page caught her eye. “It says I live with my mother,” she said, confused.

“Mrs Jackson works for us,” Mr Harris explained. “She lives in the trailer park, and she’s helped us with witness protection programs in the past. She’s firm, but she loves to take care of people. She’ll be your Mom, and you’ll be her formerly estranged daughter who’s come back to live with her after things in the city fell through. Mrs Jackson used to live in another park, so the sudden return of a daughter won’t raise any eyebrows here.”

Caroline’s lip twisted at the thought of having to pretend to be the daughter of some middle-aged trailer trash woman, but she held her tongue. Just a few weeks. She looked down at the file again, and something else jumped out at her. For a moment she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She read it through again, sure she must have misread. But the writing was plain. Betsy’s return to her mother is motivated by the car accident she was involved in several months ago, which left her with severe and permanent… “Incontinence?!” she shrieked. “You don’t mean… Like when you can’t control when you pee?!”

“That’s right,” Mr Harris said calmly. “Betsy is diaper dependent.”

“No!” Caroline screamed, revolted.

“No?”

Caroline looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “No as in I’m not doing that! I’m not going to be seen wearing diapers!”

“It’s an important part of Betsy’s backstory, Caroline,” Mr Harris insisted.

“It’s ridiculous!” Caroline shouted. Some of her friends were the types to go gooey-eyed over babies, but she never had been. The idea of having to deal with diapers was so gross! And even though she was sure there was no way she’d actually be expected to use them, just the idea of adult diapers was enough to make her feel nauseous. “Why incontinence?!” she demanded. “Why does it need to be part of her stupid backstory at all?!”

“It gives you a believable incentive to go back to living with your mother. Don’t take this personally, Caroline, but I doubt you’re that great of an actress. It’s going to be pretty clear to people that you’re not too happy about living in a trailer park with Mrs Jackson. Your incontinence creates an explanation for that. Betsy thought she’d escaped from the sticks, and her mother, and made it to the big city where she was finally free to be an independent young woman, but then she got into that accident, lost her potty training and her prospects, and is forced to toddle back home to her Mommy in Pampers.”

Caroline blushed furiously. This was insane!

“It’s also an additional layer of protection,” Mr Harris went on. “The rich young lady the De Vries are after isn’t likely to hide away in a trailer park of all places, and she’s definitely not likely to be that new girl who can’t even keep her pants clean. This will keep you safe. It’s for your own good.”

“I don’t care!” Caroline yelled. “I’m not doing it! I’m not!”

“Complain about it all you like,” said Mr Harris, “but everything has already been set up. There’s no changing it now. The fact is that Betsy can’t control her bladder or bowels, and starting today, Betsy is you.”

“But I can control my bladder and bowels!” Caroline shouted.

“I know that,” Mr Harris said, patiently.

“Then what do you expect me to do?!” she demanded.

“It’s simple,” the agent said, and for the first time he actually smiled. “You’ll just have to pretend like you can’t.”