Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

[b]Alvin Ever After:

Alvin in the First

A mini-novel by Danny[/b]


Just before the new school year was scheduled to begin my wonderfully delightful parents announced that they were going to ruin my life forever! Okay, so that isn’t exactly what they said, but that is sure how it seemed to me. They had said that we were going to pack up and move from the always warm, always exciting Chula Vista, a suburb of San Diego, California to the rarely warm, always humdrum Lewiston, Maine.

In Chula Vista I had a life, friends, a life, and oh did I say that I had A LIFE? Even my teachers liked me and not just because I was the Junior Surfing Champion for the last two years, but also because I did well in every subject except for English. However, I had a friend named Jenny Dueler who every morning before school would correct my English homework for me. Jenny wasn’t a very popular girl… ok except for me she didn’t have a single friend. She was overweight, always smelled of wet dog, had wild uncombed hair, one eyebrow that stretched across both eyes and a face that could crack mirrors. However, inside she was a really nice person. You might think that is cruel of me to say, especially about a friend, but if you were to ask her she would tell you the same thing. Jenny doesn’t believe in the so called modern woman’s image portrayed on TV and in movies and don’t even get her started on the modeling industry.

Aside from the fact that in Maine I will probably fail English seeing how I won’t have Jenny looking over my homework, I also can’t stand the idea that Jenny is losing her only friend. I mean I can’t stand the idea of her lonely!

I’m sure you are wondering, how someone like me ended up friends with someone like Jenny? Well actually there is a story behind our friendship. It all started the day I was out surfing alone because my father, who was normally out there with me back then, was home with the flu. I was about ready to head in so I could make it to school on time when I decided I had time for one more wave. I should have quit while I was ahead, because that wave had my number. I paddled out, turned and caught the wave just as it began to rise.

I only know what happened after that because Jenny told me. She had been sitting on the beach reading. It was so early that she was the only person on that particular stretch of the beach. She told me that she happen to look up right as I was flying up and my board came up and clocked me right under the chin. It knocked me out cold. She said that she knew I was in trouble and was in the water within seconds. Somehow she found me, pulled me in and gave me mouth-to-mouth. I remember coming to coughing hard, then rolling over and hurling up the ocean I’d swallowed.

When I was somewhat recovered and kneeling there on the sand with her on one knee and rubbing my back as I coughed more she said the funniest thing to me.

“This is probably a bad time to tell you this, but when my father finds out we were kissing, he’s going to make you marry me.”

From that day on, the two of us have been tight.

You know something, until right now I have never told or wrote about that. I guess because I knew my mother would over react and never let me go out alone again. Of course that doesn’t matter now as I’ll never get to surf again.

What made moving even worst was that next season I would have been old enough to compete for the teen surfing title. After I had won the Junior Surfing Championship for the second year in a row everyone in town was buzzing, saying that I was going to be the youngest person to ever capture the teen title. But then my parents dropped the moving bombshell and I knew those dreams were dead and everything would change.

John Rudder Holloway, my father, lost his job when the factory he worked at moved over the Mexican border last year. Since then he’s had a string of odd jobs, none lasting more than a week and most only one or two days. Well he did get a job as a door to door salesman that lasted for nearly two weeks before they fired him for not selling a single magazine subscription. After a while he just stopped trying to get another job and instead took up watching daytime talk shows and drinking—a lot!

Before John, Johnny to his friends, lost his job he used to do stuff with me all the time. He’s the one that taught me how to surf even before I was out of diapers. Nearly every morning of my life before work and school, he would wake me up early so that we could catch some waves together. We would hit the water just as the sun was coming over the horizon and by the time we had paddled out we would have just enough light to see as we surfed back in. That ended the day he hocked our boards and gear so that he could get drunk again.

That happened to also be the day that I stopped calling him Dad and started calling him John. Well that’s what I called him to his face; you don’t want to know what I called him when I was around my friends and such. Although John didn’t like it, I told him that as far as I was concerned, I didn’t have a dad anymore.

In time I, for the most part, got over being mad at him, but I never did go back to calling him dad; it just didn’t seem right anymore.

When John lost his job and hocked our surfing gear Mom started waiting tables at two different diners to pay the bills and to keep from getting kicked out of our home. With her working two jobs the only time I ever got to see her is when I wake up in the middle of the night and hear her fighting with John. Usually after their late night verbal war she would come into my room to tuck me back in. It’s kind of sad to say, but I got to the point that I would look forward to their fights just so I could see her for a few minutes before she went off to bed alone.

You’d like my mom, her name is Melody and she has silvery blonde shoulder length hair, pale blue-gray eyes and I know its cliché, but it’s true that her smile could brighten even the darkest day. No matter how bad things get, no matter how tired she is from working two full time jobs, she always manages to look her best.

I wish I could say that I am just like my mom, but to be honest, the only trait I got from her is her long thick eyelashes; aside from that I take after John 100%. I have his jet black hair, extra dark brown eyes (Jenny says my eyes look evil), olive colored skin that tans to a nice deep golden brown (Jenny hates my skin because I can spend all day in the sun and end up with a deeper tan where she would look more like over cooked bacon.) and enormous feet. I even have the same dimple in my chin like him; Mom says it was John’s dimple that made her fall in love with him.

One trait that I inherited from my father, who I have since learned inherited it from his father and I’ve learned that it goes all the way back to my great grandfather and probably farther, is a trait that I honestly wish I didn’t inherit; that is a problem with wetting the sheet at night. Aside from my mom, John, and my friend Jenny, no one knows I have that problem; not even my closest friends know about it.

Up until about a year ago I had nearly stopped wetting at night. I was only waking up with wet sheets maybe once a week and even a few times I went over two weeks without wetting. And then for some reason, right about the same time I turned eleven I started wetting several times a night, every night.

You’d be surprised at some of the harebrained methods I have read about on the Internet at the library for stopping night wetting. But there comes a time in every sheet-wetter’s life when they are so desperate to stop, that they will try anything—I’m no different. I’ve tried everything to stop, including setting an alarm clock to wake me up every hour to go pee, not drinking anything after eating supper, not drinking stuff with caffeine in it, putting a bunch of books under the bottom legs of my bed, and even wrapping a Band-Aid tightly around my penis. At first some of the techniques worked, but usually only for a day or two, but in the end nothing could help me to stop wetting my sheets.

The day that I was told we were moving to Maine I was sitting in my room at my desk trying to read a comic book. Mom and John walked in and sat on either side of my bed.

“Sweetheart,” Mom started and I knew I wasn’t going to like what came next.

She only ever calls me ‘Sweetheart’ when she wants to try to talk me into doing something we both know I won’t want to do.

They proceeded to tell me we were moving and no matter how much I screamed and complained, it did absolutely no good what-so-ever. Finally, in a fury I pounded my fist on my desk and screamed, “You know what? This both bites and wipes at the same time!”

I then ran out of my room, down the hallway and out the front door before either of them could stop me. I didn’t stop running until I reached the beach which by foot took about forty-five minutes, but I didn’t even notice or get tired because I was too mad. I probably would have continued running right into the Pacific Ocean and swum to Hawaii had I not literally run into Gary.

Gary owns ‘The Shack’, which is where you can rent or buy just about anything you would ever need for a fun filled day at the beach. Gary is like the oldest surfer I know; I think he is like 60 or 70 years old, maybe older. However, he is also the coolest guy I know and without a doubt he’s the bestest friend I have ever had. I know bestest isn’t a word, but it is for Gary and me; he’s the one that got me saying it because he always calls me his ‘littlest, bestest bud’. Mom thinks Gary is a bad influence and doesn’t like me hanging around him because he’s what others call a Stoner. I know Gary smokes pot, but he never does it around me or any other kids for that matter. He’s just cool like that.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Gary said clothes-lining me around the chest as I was running.

My feet flew in the air as I cried out, “Let me go! Let me go!”

Gary dropped the boogie board he had tucked under his left arm as he struggled to keep hold of me. “Whoa, little bud calm down!”

“Please let me go Gary! Please!” I began to blubber while still struggling to slip loose from his grip.

He wrapped both arms around me and wrestled me to the sand.

I pleaded once more before giving up, “Let me go, please!”

“That’s better!” he said relaxing his grip a little. “What’s got my littlest, bestest bud so upset?”

At first I didn’t answer and he didn’t push me for an explanation. He let me cry for a long time; just the two of us sitting there on the warm sand; me balling like an overgrown baby and him holding me while strangers walked past trying to act like they weren’t looking. Some muscle bound guy I sort of remember seeing around the beach came up to rent a surf board. Without moving Gary told him to take what he needed and to be sure he brought it back when he was done.

When the guy left I finally spoke, but it came out soft, almost like I was scared to say the words, “We’re moving away.”

At first he didn’t respond.

“Did you hear me?” I asked.

“Yeah… was just a little shocked.” He answered.

I sniffled hard. “Tell me about it!” I shot back and started to cry again. “Gary I don’t want to move to Maine!”

“MAINE?” Gary blurted out.

After a moment or so Gary hopped to his feet, “MAINE? As in all the way on top of the East Coast? That Maine?”

With my face hidden behind my knees and my arms wrapped around to hide my tears I nodded.

“Why in the hell would your old man drag your sorry ass all the way up there?” Gary was fuming and spitting curse words as though he were spitting on the sand.

That was something else that Gary said a lot; he loved to refer to people that he didn’t like or was mad at as ‘sorry asses’. He often referred to me as a ‘sorry ass’, but it wasn’t ever meant as a bad thing. It’s kind of like friends calling each other stupid names like jerk, dork, whiner-baby or my all-time favorite, butt-face which I reserve for very special occasions. As a rule Gary doesn’t cuss, at least that’s what he says, but I’m here to tell you, he does. Of course I already told you his favorite reference for people is ‘sorry asses’ so what more proof do you need? However, he doesn’t let me cuss and even one time when I said the B-word he pulled down my swim trunks and swatted my bare backside right there in The Shack. It didn’t hurt, but it was sure embarrassing. I should tell you that he warned me like three times about not saying it before he finally yanked down my trunks, and gave me a swat.

When he asked me about Maine I didn’t know how to respond to him except to shrug my shoulders and tell him that it wasn’t John’s idea.

“It’s my mom’s idea. Well I mean sort of…” I trailed off before adding, “Actually it was grandpa and grandma Gains idea.”

“Them your mom’s folks?” he asked while fumbling with the gold chain around his neck.

I nodded again without looking up and added, “They own a big lobster, crab, and shrimp restaurant in…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the name of the city again.

“When?” he asked sounding choked up.

“Friday,” I said huffing and puffing.

Gary didn’t reply, he just went inside ‘The Shack’ and was banging around the equipment like I’d never known him to do. He came out with a surf board under each arm and something between his teeth. He dropped the yellow and green banana board next to me, took the sign from his teeth and hung it on the front of ‘The Shack’. The sign read, ‘Will Be Back When I Get Damn Good And Ready!’ I’d seen the sign before, but it was still funny.

“But I don’t have my trunks?” I said.

“And since when has that stopped you before?” He said in a ‘so what’ sort of way.

That was all the incentive I needed; I stood up and stripped bare right there on the spot; right in front of God and everyone on the beach. Leaving my clothes in a pile, I picked up the banana board and the two of us raced into the water.

The water was cold, but it felt so good and once we’d swam out a ways I couldn’t hear the people or the sounds of the city anymore. With Gary by my side we were able to swim out farther than the other surfers usually go. Mom and John don’t allow me to go out that far, but Gary and I always do. There are always some fantastic waves out that far plus the larger naval ships create some killer wakes that are fun to ride.

That day it was just him and me out there alone; not a ship, boat, or person was in site. Heck, we’d paddled so far out that we couldn’t see the land anymore. There weren’t many waves coming around the horn, but that didn’t matter. We stayed out there talking some of the time and just floating most of the time and allowed the currents to take us back in; as land came back into site a good size wave picked up and we road it all the way in.

We’d been out a good two hours, long enough for my mom to have called the cops because she thought I had run away. Now I’m rather well known by those that patrol the southern California beaches. They all know me by name and love to give me a hard time, but mostly it is just in fun. However, a few times I’ve had some negative run-ins with them because they say I was surfing in restricted areas. Of course I was and knew it too, but no matter how much I, or any true surfer gets harassed, we’re going to go wherever the waves are.

Anyway, we came back into shore about a mile north of where we’d entered. Normally we would just paddle our way back down the coastline, but that day, the last day we’d get to surf together, we decided to walk along ‘Silver Stand Blvd’ part of the way. It isn’t an uncommon thing to see a couple surfers hoofing it down the beach, but seeing how I was, butt naked we were getting all kinds of rubberneckers. I even got a few whistles, all from guys thinking they were funny; at least I hope they were trying to be funny.

We were maybe five minutes from ‘The Shack’ when Naval Patrol Officer Alex Ricer peddled his bike up behind us. Out of all those that patrol this stretch of beach, Ricer is the least liked. Ricer is about the goofiest blowhard you’d ever have the displeasure to run across. Probably the one thing that stands out about Ricer, out of all of his oddities is the fact that he wears bright white ankle socks with brown leather, buckle on sandals. I once heard Gary ask how Ricer got away with that being in the Navy and all. Maybe he’s so weird that no one in the Navy wants to be bothered with him.

To make a long story short, Ricer called in a patrol buggy, which is really just a jeep with big gnarly tires; and I was hauled back home without being able to retrieve my clothes. I got a postcard from Gary about a week after being in Lewiston. He said Ricer tried to give him some trouble over the whole thing, but Gary, who’s retired Navy, has friends all over Southern California so he took great pleasure in telling Ricer…

“Pucker up your sorry ass lips, and kiss my entire hairy ass.”

I had been dropped on my doorstep wearing a big blue towel and smelling like sea water. John had answered the door because Mom was out driving around looking for me. I didn’t bother to stick around; I took off the towel, handed it to the cop and walked past John without saying a single word. Of course John was drunk … again, or maybe I should say still. Anyway, before disappearing down the hallway I turned to the officer that brought me in and said, “Thanks for the ride!” I’m guessing that she was new to the force because I had never seen her before. I then locked myself in the bathroom so that I could wash the salt water off. I knew when Mom came home because, even with my head under the bath water, I could hear her angrily pounding on the bathroom door.

Despite my rock solid, etched in stone, buried under ten-thousand tons of concrete, unmovable, unyielding resolution that I wasn’t going to Maine; moving day finally came. It was heralded by the sound of a moving van backing up to the house. During the previous few days I’d run off two more times so on the morning of moving day Mom threatened to ground me for a whole year if I so much as thought about sneaking away again.

I’d had time that week to say goodbye to all of my friends and even got a chance to get back at Ricer by letting the air out of his patrol bikes tires not once, but twice in the same afternoon. I figured that even if he found out it was me; he wouldn’t be able to do anything before we left.

I also made it a point to stop by Jenny’s house, something she had always forbid me from doing; I still don’t know why that is. I expected her to knock my head off the second she saw me, but she surprised me and threw herself at me in a back breaking hug. When I told her we were moving she started to cry, but not for very long. We then spent that entire day together and as I was saying my final goodbye to her she leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.

The only one that I didn’t get to say an official goodbye to was Gary. Every time I tried to get to the beach to see him, either there were too many customers at ‘The Shack’ for him to get away for a few minutes, or he wasn’t there at all. However, Gary made sure I didn’t get away without getting to see him one last time.

Gary showed up at our house as John was shoving the last box into the trunk of our car. I was already in the car, but when I saw Gary’s jeep pull up; I jumped out and ran to him.

Jokingly he said, “You trying to run off without saying so-long to your bestest bud?”

“Gary!” I cheered when I saw him.

He climbed down from his jeep and took a surf board down off the top. It was one of the nicest long boards I’d ever seen and when he said he was giving it to me to remember him by, I nearly started to cry. He said that it was my early twelfth birthday and Christmas present combined.

On the top of it were the words, Have Waves Will Surf in sparkling blue and white letters outlined in red pinstripe. On the back of the board, right across the edge it said, Eat My Wake! He then showed me the bottom of the board and it had my name in huge fancy blue and white letters that covered the entire bottom, ALVIN HOLLOWAY and running through the middle of my name in gold was, 2X Jr Surfing Champion.

When I saw my name on the bottom Gary said, “I figure that will help the sharks know who they’re about to eat.”

And as he handed it to me he looked John right in the eye and threatened him by saying, “If I hear that you’ve sold this one I swear it won’t matter what state or continent you’re on… I’ll find you and kick your sorry ass so hard you’ll be shitting out your ears and pissing out your nose!”

John didn’t say anything back; he simply turned and walked into the house. Mom came out then and surprised me when she gave Gary a big hug and a kiss. She thanked him for being such a wonderful friend to me and I was surprised again when she invited him to come up to Maine to visit us someday.

“You better watch out, I might just take you up on that!” Gary laughed.

After tying my new board onto the top of our car Gary lifted me off my feet to give me a huge hug and told me, “You know the number to ‘The Shack’, anytime you need to, just call collect alright?”

My eyes were filled with tears as I said goodbye to him and a handful of my other friends that had come to see us off. I was half hoping that Jenny would have come, but I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t. Jenny doesn’t usually do what people expect her to do.

As we drove away my friends stood in the middle of the street waving until we were out of sight. When I couldn’t see them anymore I turned around in the backseat, buckled myself in, and began to cry silently.


About thirty minutes on the road and I started to feel the need to go number two, but I didn’t say anything. After another fifteen minutes had passed, the need had amplified and ten minutes after that I blurted out, “I got to go!”

“Alvin you were supposed to go before we left.” Mom griped back at me.

“I went pee, but I didn’t know I needed to go number two.” I said grumpily back to her.

“You’re going to have to hold it. We’ve got about twenty minutes or so before we reach a rest stop.” she said.

I sat quietly in the back seat trying not to think about needing to go, but as each minute ticked by the feeling increased exponentially. Not thinking about needing to poop wasn’t working for me so then I tried concentrating on holding it in. I began muttering to myself as I clenched my butt cheeks tightly together, “Hold it! Hold it! Hold it in.”

When I felt that I couldn’t wait another second I cried out, “I can’t hold it any longer! Please pull over!”

The car was no sooner on the shoulder of the road then I threw open the door opposite traffic and started to get out fast, but carefully so as not to have an accident in my pants.

“Wait!” Mom called after me.

“Mom I can’t…” I started to complain, but stopped when I saw she was handing me a fist full of napkins. I felt a bit stupid for not thinking that far ahead.

I ran about fifteen feet so that I could squat in a ravine for a little privacy.

“Come on, come on!” I groaned while fumbling to get my belt undone and my pants pulled down.

Since this was my first time ever pooping in the great outdoors, (not counting the ocean), I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about not pooping on myself. It seemed to make sense that I should only pull my pants down to my hips and squatted with my feet as far apart as I could without falling over. When it came out it felt like it might be a record breaking poop for me because it felt like a big one. In the bathroom a poop always falls into the water with a plop, but this time there was no plop. In fact there was no satisfactory sound at all because the dang turd hadn’t hit the ground and in my mind I could envision what it might have looked like. A big brown snake hanging out of my butt; just dangling there and not knowing what to do, I clamped my cheeks together. Big mistake! I felt the poop break away, but before it did I felt it smear inside my crack.

“Thank goodness Mom gave me plenty of napkins.” I said aloud.

“Alvin, are you ok?” I heard Mom ask and she sounded close… too close!

“Mom, don’t come down here!” I shouted out of the ravine when I realized that she must have followed me.

“Are you almost done?” she asked.

“Almost!” I shouted back.

“Do you need any help?” she asked.

“Moooooom!” I whimpered, “Can a guy have a little privacy please?”

I waited a moment to be sure she had gone back to the car before I reached back with one of the napkins and wiped myself.

“Aw man!” I groaned when I felt how messy I was back there. I dropped the first napkin and when I was bringing my hand back around for another I saw that I had poop on my hand. “Aw man!” I groaned again and tried to wipe it off with one of the napkins.

Mom had given me seven napkins, but when I had used the fifth one I knew that seven wasn’t going to be enough. I tried to make the last two napkins count before resigning to the idea that I was going to have to put up with a slightly soiled, butt crack until we could get to the rest stop.

I carefully pulled up my underwear and then my pants. As I was zipping up my fly I looked down at the lump I’d just deposited and was surprised to see that it wasn’t brown at all, but a kind of bright green. I’d never had green poop before; I’d seen just about every shade of brown come out of me including light tan, and a brown so dark it looked black, but never did I drop a green dookie. In a warped and disgusting sort of way it was kind of pretty.

Once I had my belt refastened I climbed out of the ravine and made my way back to the car. With each step I could feel my, butt cheeks sliding around and knew that I’d not even come close to getting myself cleaned up.

I was careful to sit down when getting back into the car. It didn’t feel all squishy so I guess maybe it wasn’t that bad.

As I was closing the door I sniffed the hand I’d wiped with and nearly retched.

“Can we still stop at the rest area ahead?” I asked while fastening my seatbelt and trying to touch it as little as possible.

I was so glad when Mom didn’t ask any questions.

At the rest stop I first washed my hands then found an empty stall. I pulled my pants back down and…

“Aw man!” I groaned when I saw the heavy brown racing strip I’d left in my underwear.

It took six more wipes before my crack was clean, but it wouldn’t stay that way once I pulled my underwear back up. Not knowing what else to do I decided that I’d just take off my underwear and leave them there in the stall for some poor unfortunate soul to find once I had gone.

Feelings of relief and mild pride filled me for how I’d handled that whole situation. I went back to the car and with that emergency behind me I returned to sulking as we headed back to the road again. Though it was such a horrible feeling to be leaving behind everything and everyone I ever knew, Mom and John still managed to make the long drive … dare I say it … enjoyable.

Grandpa Gains had wired Mom the money needed to get us moved and a bit extra so that we could stay the night at a couple motels along the way. Over the past year Mom had become very creative when it came to stretching a dollar so why should this trip be any different. The first night we slept in the car at a highway rest stop. For supper we cooked hotdogs on a tiny round grill.

There was this little Mexican woman traveling with her short round Mexican husband and he had a mustache nearly as big as he was. They were driving a pickup truck with plywood sides around the bed and filled with more watermelons then I had ever seen in one place before. They pulled into the rest stop while we were eating our hotdogs. The man didn’t speak English at all, but the woman did, kind of. They asked if they could use our tiny grill and to say thank you, they gave us two of their watermelons. I don’t know what it was they cooked on our grill, however I can tell you that whatever it was, it smelled terrible, but boy that watermelon was soooo juicy and yummy! Those watermelons were so big that we had watermelon almost every night of our trip.

When it was time to sleep John spread a blue plastic tarp over the back seat and then covered it with a sheet for me to sleep on while he and Mom cuddled together in the front seat.


The following morning I washed up using one of the sinks in the rest stop bathroom while John cooked us some sausages and toast on the tiny charcoal grill. I never really thought about it before, but cooking toast on the tiny grill was actually kind of cool.

I didn’t know at the time, but the reason we slept at the highway rest stop was so that we’d have enough money to visit the Grand Canyon. I could hardly believe it when we got to take a donkey ride down into the canyon. The only part I didn’t like was when the guide said that since I was so young I would have to use a kiddy saddle. The saddle turned out to be a lot like an infant’s car seat only bigger and I didn’t get to steer my donkey either. The guide tied my donkey to my mom’s. I felt kind of stupid, but still it was really cool. But the next day I was the only one out of the three of us that wasn’t complaining about how sore they were. Mom and John both said that their, butts and legs were killing them after sitting on those hard saddles for so long. The kiddy saddle I had to use had been padded on the bottom, back and sides so I was feeling just fine.

If I had to choose between the first night and the second night as to which was better I’d have to say that the second night was better hands down! John had found a place for us to camp a little ways off the highway where there was no traffic or people around for miles. There was even a small pond that the three of us got to swim in together. Afterward for the first time in longer than I can remember, John got out his guitar. It had been so long that I had forgotten that he even had a guitar. I had a short moment of bitterness well up inside of me when I thought about the fact that he’d been willing to sell our surfing gear, but not his guitar. However that feeling didn’t stick around too long.

While John was strumming out the notes to Stairway to Heaven we began to hear something. I had never actually heard the sound of horses galloping so at first I was feeling maybe a little concerned, but then from out of the bushes emerged two horses with riders. Actually one of the horses wasn’t really a horse, it was a pony. I’m not sure what the difference is other than size. The horse was tan with a black mane and tail; and I know that saying tan is a fairly broad statement; well, it was darker then sand and lighter than dirt? Does that help? The pony was all black, but its main and tail seemed blacker then its body and shinier too.

There was an older teenaged girl riding the horse. She looked like she might be Mexican with bushy dark hair and I know it isn’t a nice thing to say, but the one thing I noticed about her above all, was her enormous nose. I had never seen a nose that big except in cartoons. She smiled and steered her horse wide to keep from trotting right through our campsite.

“Oh sorry, we didn’t know anyone would be back here.” She said and then called back to the other rider, “Carlos, go left.”

Following several paces behind the horse was the pony and her rider, a boy maybe six years old, but I’m not really sure because of what he was wearing or perhaps I should say because of what he wasn’t wearing. He didn’t have on a shirt or pants, but he wasn’t nude either. He was wearing a disposable diaper, lime green socks and light brown ankle high lace up boots.

When the girl had called back for him to steer clear of us he said back to her in a whiney voice, “I see 'em! I’m not blind!” He sounded older then he looked.

They both stopped between the pond and us to talk for a few minutes. The girl told us that if we walked back the way they had just come, about ten minute or so there were wild berries.

The boy added, “Make your tongue turn purple too.” And then proved it by sticking out his tongue for us all to see.

I got the feeling that the boy wasn’t exactly normal; like maybe he had some sort of slight mental handicap. However I could be wrong about that.

After the boy and girl left, Mom and John decided they wanted to go look for those wild berries. They asked me if I wanted to come along too, but I decided that I wasn’t up for a nature hike. My idea of being one with nature has to do more with water and less with trees and bushes.

“I’ll stay here and keep the bears away.” I joked.

I think maybe them wandering off alone turned out to be a good thing because when they came back they were holding hands and laughing. I’d not seen them do that in … well longer then I can remember.

In the later hours of the evening, when the sun was getting low in the sky, Mom showed me how to make a three pronged spear and then taught me how to go frog spearing. That night I got to see what frog legs taste like when cooked over an open fire. Mom said I had them before when I was real little, but I don’t remember that. You know, they are kind of like chicken wings only without all the spices and barbeque sauce.

You know something else; in all my life I never knew that my mom used to be a tomboy when she was a little girl. It’s kind of funny the stuff you can learn about the people that you thought you knew everything about.

It was such a good clear night that the three of us slept under the stars in our sleeping bags. At first I wasn’t too happy with that idea because I didn’t want any snakes or scorpion climbing into my sleeping bag while I slept, but John said to make sure I zipped up my bag all the way and I wouldn’t have that problem.


The following morning I had a hard time figuring out if I had wet in my sleeping bag during the night because everything was wet from the dew that had accumulated over night. Even Mom and John woke up to find that their sleeping bag was wet.

We got a late start that morning because Mom wanted to hang our bedding up to dry so that we wouldn’t have to sleep on wet things the following night. It wouldn’t have mattered to me because I am use to having to sleep with wet sheets.

While John made breakfast I was sent to go swimming in the pond again because Mom said I smelled like a barn. I think I said something smart back, but I can’t remember now what it was. Boy that water was the perfect temperature too.

Once we started out again we only went about a half hour before we stopped for two reasons, the first was because the car was acting up and also because we’d reached our next planned destination. We were going to see the Aztec Ruins in New Mexico. That was actually really cool because they let you climb all over the Ruins.

It was, while climbing to the top of a rather tall structure, that I met Matt, Willey, and Luke who were also making the climb. They were my age and strangely, they were triplet brothers. The strange part was that they didn’t look anything alike. They didn’t even look related. Matt was a bit chubby with dark brown hair that was longer in the back than the front or sides. He must be either adventuresome or accident prone because his darker toned skin was covered in scrapes, booboos, and Band-Aids. He also had the largest eyes I have ever seen on another human. Willey was the tallest of all three, and had hair which was cut so short that it was impossible to tell its color. He also had an almost orange color to his skin, sort of like the tourists who would use those sunless tanning creams in hopes of looking like they had been living in California all their lives. And lastly there was Luke, the shortest and skinniest of the three who had similarly colored hair to Matt, but had a cowlick so pronounced that it was almost like looking at the, butt of a chicken the way his bangs sort of radiated out from a single spot on the front of his head. He was also nearly colorless, like he never went outside.

Come to find out they were from California too; however they live in the northern part of the state and were on their way back home. They also weren’t on vacation with their parents; they were with their Scout Troop and were returning from a Scouts Jamboree in Georgia.

After climbing around a while I met some of the others in their troop, but I don’t remember any of their names. It was kind of cool that they were there when we were because I got to hang out with them most of the time. They even invited me to have lunch with them and after begging Mom and John to let me the four of us ran to where their Scout Troop was getting a fire ready.

That is when I met their Scout Master; now his name I can remember for some strange reason! It was Jerry Walker. Jerry was a really cool guy and let me use his Scout knife to make myself a stick to roast a hotdog on. I felt a little sorry for the three scouts that were trying to get the fire going because the other scouts were really giving them a hard time about how long it was taking them. They had been using a piece of flint and the back of a knife. I’d seen Gary do it like that and had tried once, but couldn’t do it.

Now, Gary had showed me this cool way to start a fire with a couple sticks, a shoe lace and a flat rock. After watching those three guys struggling and being razed I asked if they minded if I helped with the fire.

“Ever try using a fire drill?” I asked.

“You know how to use one?” Jerry, their scout master asked with surprise

“Sure, a buddy of mine back home taught me.” I said.

Matt loaned me one of his laces and after about five minutes of both building the bow and working it I had a hot ember. Once I had the ember the other boys who had been trying to start the fire took over. They transferred the ember to the tender bundle and took turns blowing it until it flamed up.

Soon we had a big fire cracking and popping.

“You’d make a good scout!” Luke said.

During lunch I told them how we were headed for Maine and where we had come from. That is when this one kid with really thick glasses and light brown hair, and who’d been one of the fire boys, let out a holler like he’d just sat on the sharp end of his roasting stick or something.


Luke piped up, “Uh yeah, I think he said that like twenty minutes ago.”

In California I was use to other kids and even some adults recognizing me when I walked down the street or when we went shopping. Even one time I had this guy who must have been in his twenties corner me in the changing room at the boardwalk while I was trying on pants. He wouldn’t leave until I signed an autograph for him and his girlfriend. However, in New Mexico I wasn’t really expecting anyone to notice who I was, let alone freak out the way that kid was.


“Well I wouldn’t go so far as to say legend.” I thought to myself.

“Wait a second!” Willey said yanking on my arm. “You are him, aren’t you?”

Jerry their Scout Master jumped in with, “Well looks like we have a celebrity!”

I was smiling just a little because, to be honest, it felt good and made me not so homesick.

Matt grabbed my other arm and pulled me toward him, “You are THE Alvin Holloway and you didn’t tell us?”

“Come on guys you’re going to pull my arms off!” I said to Luke and Matt who were using me to play tug-o-war. “I am just a regular guy like you guys.”

The kid with the glasses protested, “OH NO YOU’RE NOT!”

Thankfully Jerry came to my rescue. “Alright everyone let’s bring it down a notch or two.”

All through lunch the guys asked me about the competitions and even asked me about some of the other well-known names I’d surfed against.

I finally had an idea and asked them, “Hey would you like to see my new board?”

The kid with the glasses got all excited again. Apparently he was a big fan and probably would have cut off his left ear if I had asked him too.

“YOU HAVE YOUR SURF BOARD WITH YOU RIGHT NOW?” he was screaming like a love struck teenage girl meeting some Hollywood big shot for the first time.

Jerry threw a hotdog bun at the boy and nailed him right in the forehead with deadly accuracy; everyone laughed.

“Well I don’t have it in my pocket if that’s what you mean.” I joked, “But it’s strapped to the roof of our car.”

I think that if I had hesitated standing up they probably would have hog tied me to a long wooden pole and carried me to the car. As though they were beholding the Virgin Mother herself they all stood in awe as John took it down and handed it to me.

“That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!” Luke said.

That kid with the glasses was shaking like a leaf and he was so wound up that if he had ripped a fart he probably would have launched himself like an intercontinental ballistic missile.

“Man no one is going to believe we met Alvin Holloway in New Mexico!” one of the other guys said.

“Anyone have a camera?” Mom asked.

What is the motto for the Boy Scouts? Always be prepared? Well they were, because every last one of them had a camera and they all wanted their picture taken with me. So to satisfy everyone I knelt in the middle of the group behind my new board with everyone standing around me while Mom took a picture using each of their cameras.

Afterward we all took off for the ruins again while Jerry and some other guy who I didn’t know where trying to help John figure out what was wrong with our car.

I guess whatever was wrong with the car took a while to fix because as the day drew long and the sun started to drop; Mom, John and I were invited back to the scout’s area where tents had been pitched. We had been invited to join them for a big scout meal of Rock Soup.

Now if you don’t know what Rock Soup is, there is actually a funny story to it.

The war had been long and hard, scarring the countryside, the villages, and the people – both soldiers and citizens. Finally, it was over… though some claimed victory; no one really won except the winter which now held them all prisoner. A lone soldier, trying to return to his far-away home, had wandered through the cold and snow for days. He was tired, but more than that, he was literally starving. At last he came upon a village. He picked a house and knocked on the door. When someone came to answer, the soldier explained his plight and asked for a little something to eat. The little man behind the door shook his head saying that he had a family to feed and they were hungry themselves and they could give him nothing. The soldier pleaded that he would eat any scraps, but the villager again said he had nothing to spare – there were no scraps. This scene was repeated house to house but always the answer was the same. It had been a hard winter and the soldier found that the villagers were all hungry too. The soldier had a thought, and then it somehow formed a plan. He looked about, and spotting something nearby, his eyes brightened. He quickly went off to the nearby woods. Soon, he returned with all the sticks and pieces of wood he could find and built a campfire in the village square. Then he went over to the large, black iron pot resting against the wall of the empty blacksmith shop. Dragging the pot over the fire, he filled it with snow. At this point he had drawn a large crowd of onlookers who stared at him with curiosity. They talked among themselves and wondered what he was going to do with the pot of now-boiling water. Then the soldier ferreted about the ground below the eaves of the villagers’ cottages until he had gathered a dozen or more, smooth, dark stones. He inspected each closely, smelled them individually, sometimes comparing one stone’s fragrance to that of another. When all was done, he had kept only a few. He polished them with snow, wiped them clean, and then placed them gingerly, one by one, into the pot. Now the onlookers were really getting curious --more than that, they were sure the soldier was mad with hunger. The soldier then took a big wooden spoon from his knapsack and began stirring the water in the pot and occasionally taking a taste. “Mmmmmm,” he finally said, “this is the best Rock Soup I have tasted in a long time.” The villagers couldn’t believe their ears. Rock Soup? Surely he was mad! The soldier took one more taste and then said, “This is good soup but it needs something, perhaps a carrot… Yes, that’s it, a little bit of carrot would make it perfect!” An elderly villager stepped forward, looked into the pot, leaned over and inhaled deeply. When he stood up, he closed his eyes and remembered the aromas of soups and stews long gone. The villager paused a moment, then said, “I think I might have a couple of carrots in my cellar, I will bring them.” On his return the carrots were added to the Rock Soup. Again the soldier continued to stir and taste and stir and taste. Finally the soldier said, “This is pretty good Rock Soup, the carrots made it better, but it is still missing something. Perhaps a few onions would make it even better.” No sooner had he said it, than a few villagers scurried off. Upon their return, the soldier was given more than a few onions --but it was a big pot, so in they all went. Again the soldier continued to stir and taste and stir and taste. The soldier said, “This is very good Rock Soup, the carrots and onions made it better, but it is still missing something. Perhaps a few potatoes would make it even better.” He let two or three of those that had drawn near sample the ever-steaming brew, which by now was starting to smell delicious. A good number of villagers bustled off. Upon their return, the soldier was presented with a potato here and a potato there until he had enough to fill the pot. As he let it simmer, others brought bits of this and that to add to the flavor. Tasting it one more time, he exclaimed it was “Perfect!” Starting with the children, everyone had a bowl of this wonderful soup. Everyone in the village exclaimed that it was the best Rock Soup that they had ever eaten and they all ate their fill. “What about neighboring villages?” someone asked. “They are hungry, too.” Saving a rock for themselves, the others were cleaned, placed in baskets, and sent out by messenger.

The soldier’s recipe was attached …

Gather a few local stones …

Clean them well …

Add this stone to them …

Next, …

I want you to know that I didn’t actually remember that story word for word. For the sake of this, I looked it up at the library on the internet and pasted it in. I mean I got a fairly good memory, but there is no way I could remember it that good.

We ended up having to spend the night at the Aztec Ruins because the car needed some part that wouldn’t be available until the next morning. I found out that while I had been running around all afternoon, the other guy who I never even met had taken John to find the part for our car.

Although the scouts asked me to stay with them, there was zero chance I would accept that invite. They were bummed, but that didn’t stop us from having fun well into the dark.

While sitting around the fire there were songs, stories and lots of laughter.

Saying goodbye that night wasn’t all that hard because I figured I’d see them again in the morning. Only that wasn’t the case.


The following morning I was surprised to find that the scouts were gone. I had got up early and gone to the public bathroom to wash myself as best I could in a sink. I made a bit of a mess on the floor of the bathroom because I was basically taking a bath. I wanted to be sure all traces of pee was washed off so as not to have my new scout friends get a whiff of me and learn my secret. However, after getting cleaned up and having breakfast with Mom and John, I headed off to the scout camp area. I was so disappointed to find that they had broken camp and hit the road at first light. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to them.

I drug myself back to our car and told Mom that they were gone.

“I’m sorry Alvin.” She said and hugged me.

As it turned out, the part for our car wasn’t going to be available until the next morning. The guy who had helped John work on the car yesterday had moved on too, but John had got a ride into town again with some truck driver. The guy who was supposed to be getting the car part for us felt so bad that the part was taking longer to get then what he said yesterday. Knowing we were basically stuck without that part, he went out of his way to help us. He drove John back out to the Ruins in a tow truck and then towed our car into town.

The town was an okay town; I mean there wasn’t really anything unusual about it. There were restaurants, stores, gas stations, and the like. There wasn’t really anything to do in the town, but walk up and down the streets. Mom wouldn’t let me out of her sight the whole time we were there, which wasn’t such a big deal until she drug me into a ladies clothing store. I had to suffer for nearly an hour of mind numbing boredom as Mom looked at clothes and tried on outfits. She ended up not buying anything which seemed to upset the sales lady, though nothing was actually said about that to us.

Before Lunch Mom left me sitting on a metal folding chair inside the service station with orders to not move or go anywhere while she went outside to talk with John. I didn’t think anything of this at the time, but when we three sat down to have lunch I figured out that they must have had an argument because they didn’t say a single word to each other while we ate.

However, thankfully, after lunch we walked across town to a park called Library Park. There was a big fountain in the middle of the park with sidewalks radiating out like the spokes of a wagon wheel. There were kids about half my age playing in and around the fountain while parents sat on benches watching. It was at the park that I was finally allowed to run around and enjoy myself.

OK, I need to rewind just a bit because something was happening on the way to Library Park that has impact on what happened when we were actually at the park.

We had stopped in front of this store front window looking at the display inside. I’m not sure if it was just something to celebrate or as a memorial for past police officers of the town. There was one of those old-time looking wooden desks, but it was only half of the desk that was sort of coming out of the wall with half a chair too. There was an old style phone with one of those dial kind of things on the front of it. All together it looked like someone had taken an old police desk and belongings and displayed them there in the window as though it was an actually police station. It was sort of like looking through a window into the past.

It was while looking at the window display that I first noticed this kid. I saw his reflection in the glass. He was across the street, sitting atop an overturned metal trash can and smoking a cigarette. I turned and looked over to him. From his reflection I had noticed he had been looking right at us, but when I turned he was now looking down at the curb. He was about my size, but seemed kind of older; maybe it was because of the cigarette. I didn’t think a whole lot about him at the time, but when I saw him again a couple blocks away from that spot I paid him more attention.

The second time I noticed him he was now leaning against a parked, powder blue, pickup truck’s tailgate and was lighting another cigarette using the previous one.

He wore a wide, horizontal striped green and white shirt that was so long that it almost covered his cutoff blue-jean shorts. The short sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and the right sleeve appeared to have a pack of cigarettes rolled up in it. His hair was dark, shiny and parted to one side like the guys in that old television show, Happy Days.

Mom and John were talking about this store called The Lemon-Drop Cupboard. It wasn’t open, but the inside looked like an old country kitchen that was decorated over the top with Lemon themed items. I’m not sure what the purpose of that store was, but it seemed kind of ‘little-town’ cute, but I wasn’t paying it near as much attention as my parents.

I had noticed the boy leaning on the truck, but he didn’t seem to be paying a bit of attention to us. Then again, why had he moved two blocks up the road with us? I watched him intently and not once did he look our way.

When Mom distracted me by taking my hand as they started moving again I lost interest in the boy for the time being.

“Alvin, look at that?” John said while pointing to a big red motorcycle mounted to the side of a building. The building had been painted in such a way to make it look like the road we were walking on turned and went straight up into the air. It was like the earth had been folded right in half.

“Whoa! That’s gnarly!” I said.

“Oh there is even a real looking fire hydrant.” Mom noticed.

We continued on to Library Park and were within sight of it when I again saw that same kid. He was half a block behind us and now on our side of the street. He was sort of hanging from a street lamp post; one foot was on the concrete base that the metal lamp post was mounted too and one hand clung to the pole while the rest of him just hung out in the air. He had a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth and another tucked behind his ear.

When he saw that I had spotted him again he quickly dismounted and turned away from us. To say my curiosity was peaked would be an understatement.

“John,” I said while pointing to the back of the kid as he strolled slowly away from us, “You see that kid?”

“What about him?” John asked.

“He’s been following us.” I said.

Mom then said, “This is a small town and I am sure they don’t get a lot of strangers here all that often. He’s probably just curious about us.”

We entered the park and went right to the fountain where several kids were playing in the water and splashing a lot. Mom went over, stuck her hand in the water and then flicked the water into her own face to refresh herself.

When I wasn’t looking John grabbed me from behind and pretended that he was going to push me into the water.

“HEY!” I shouted and resisted.

He simply laughed and let me go.

I spun on him and shot my meanest face at him which seemed to only feed his laughter as he quickly pulled Mom between us.

“Save me honey!” he laughed.

Mom squealed, laughed, and swatted him away as if trying to shoo away a gnat.

The two of them went over and sat down on a park bench while I stepped up to the fountain. In one quick move I dunked my head all the way in. I stayed under the cool, refreshing water for as long as I could before pulling my head out and shaking off the excess water.

I could hear Mom applauding behind me and John shouted over, “That-a-boy!”

As I was running my hands through my hair, feeling the water drip down and soak my shirt I saw that same kid all the way across the park. He was near the entrance of the library, partially concealed behind the bike rack which was full of bicycles.

I turned and walked over to my parents where I shook my head like a dog, splashing them both.

“OH ALVIN!” Mom cried out.

John tried to reach out and grab me, but I jumped away too fast. Laughing, I ran off to explore the park.

“Yeah, I know where you’re sleeping tonight boy!” John shouted after me.

You might be asking yourself, after being so over protective earlier, why would my mother now allow me to wander so far from her side? I suppose that was because we were at a big, open park where mom could still see me while I ran wild for a while. I image, that the next events would not have transpired had the two of them not got so involved in themselves for a time. But then I would have missed out on a, albeit weird but still cool, mini-adventure.

I was purposefully trying not to let the kid know I was watching him as I moved around the park looking at the statues and sculptures. I’d made my way to the other side of the fountain and with a quick glance toward my parents I saw that they were now deep into conversation and not paying attention to me. I then looked toward the boy who wasn’t looking my way either. Without really thinking what I was doing I took off running as fast and I could around the Library.

I wasn’t sure if I could get around the library to the front entrance where the boy was standing, but I wanted to at least try. The back side of the library, butted up to an alley and parking lot, but there was a sidewalk all the way around. I slowed and turned the last corner and found myself fifteen feet from the back of the kid.

Two girls came out of the library laughing and both looked my way. One of the girls said something that sounded like, “Hi cutie”, but I am not real sure if that is what she said as she was giggling when she said it. The other girl blushed and bumped the other girl as they ran off.

I stepped up behind the boy who was looking back and forth frantically across the park. I could only assume he was trying to figure out where I had gone.

When I reached out and tapped him on the shoulder I think I scared the ever-loving-life out of him.

He spun, spotted me and his eyes went as big as truck tires as he jumped about four feet up and then landed in the bush beside the bike rack.

As it turned out, it was one of those angry bushes with small, hard, pointy leaves sort of like a million serrated knives. I forget what you call that kind of bush, but I see them a lot around Christmas time. Anyway, he fell right into it and though he didn’t make a sound, one look and I knew he was in a heck of a lot of pain.

“Oh boy I am sorry!” I said and I extended a hand to help him out of the bush.

Once on his feet again I could see he wasn’t quite as old looking in person. Maybe that was because his eyes were filled with tears and his once nicely combed hair was now messy and hanging in heavily gelled clumps.

“You alright?” I asked.

He finally spoke, “Gosh dang it! That is the second gosh dang time that gosh dang bush got me!”

He then looked right at me and apologized, “Sorry about that. I ought not to cuss.”

I guess I was giving him a questioning look because when we made eye contact again he blurted out loudly, “What?”

“You smoke, and sneak around spying on strangers, and you won’t even cuss right?” I asked.

He suddenly became red as a snapper fish. I mean it! He was so embarrassed by what I had said to him.

His eyes drop to the ground and he mumbled out, “Sorry 'bout watching you. That were wrong and I shouldn’t a done it.”

“Heck fire! I ain’t even told you who I am.” He said.

He stuck out his shaking hand and said, “Name’s Kyle-Lee Doctavio, but everyone calls me Kyle 'round these parts.”

I took his hand and couldn’t help but notice how soft and weak his grip felt. It was like trying to shake hands with a rubber-man.

“You don’t sound like you are from here.” I observed.

He shook his head, “Oh no! From out east Ohio way. Stay’n with my Uncle 'n Aunt here. Been for pert-near a year.”

He then said, “The whole time I been here, y’all are the first people I seen that weren’t from 'round here.”

“Really?” I exclaimed while realizing that we were still shaking hands.

“My names Alvin, Alvin Holloway.” I said.

“Pleasure t’meet ya Alvin, Alvin Holloway.” He said with a crooked smile.

I broke the hand shake and he again blushed real red.

He reached up and pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and started to put it in his mouth when he changed his mind and held it out to me.

“Ya smoke?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Can’t stand the smell of them.”

“Oh?! Yeah, I-I should probably stop anyhow!” He said as he gave the unlit cigarette a flick into the street; which was a good twenty feet from where we were standing.

“So you here for a visit?” I asked.

He again blushed and I knew I had asked something that touched on a tender nerve.

He started to act uncomfortable as he said, “Not really. Folks sent me out here 'cause I got in a bit a trouble back home.”

“A L V I N?!”

I heard John calling my name and quickly moved around the overloaded bike rack to have a straight shot back into the park. Oddly, when I moved, Kyle stayed right with me. It was almost like he was scared I was going to get away from him.

I threw my hand in the air and waved it about, “OVER HERE!”

“ALRIGHT! JUST CHECKING FOR YOU!” he said as he sat himself back down beside Mom.

“That your pa and ma o’er there?” Kyle asked.

I didn’t mean to chuckle as I said, “Yeah.”

“I say somethin’ funny?” He asked.

“Oh sorry, no. I have just never heard anyone call them pa and ma before.”

He looked a bit offended.

“I didn’t mean that to sound like a bad thing. I actually like the way you talk.” I said.

“I like the way you talk too. You sound like you’re from a movie I once saw about a bunch of surf’n guys.”<br

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

I laughed, “Yep we’ll you pegged me. I am, well was, a surfer… out in California.” I thumbed over my shoulder as though my old home was right behind me.

“No kidding?!”

“Nope! Lived in California all my life and most of that I was on the water.”

“Whoa!” He exclaimed with wide eyes, “I never met no one from California!”

He then got this real excited expression as he asked, “Hey you ever meet anyone from Hollywood?”

I laughed again, “I lived way down south, not too far from Mexico. Mostly just Mexicans and Navy people down there.”

“Ah, that’s too bad.” He said disappointedly.

I’m not sure why I shrugged my shoulders.

He then asked, “Got yourself a girlfriend back there?”

I shook my head, “Nah, just loads of good friends.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle when I said that but I didn’t really understand why. Well I didn’t understand right then but in short order I’d understand all too well.

Right then this group of older teens came walking up toward the library. Kyle started acting kind of weird, like he was purposefully trying not to make eye contact.

They were almost past us when the tallest guy, a red-head with bright pink lips saw him and slowed long enough to say, “Hay there Heehaw!” before continuing on into the library.

Kyle blushed so bad.

“Heehaw?” I asked.

He finally looked up at me and I saw his eyes were glassy as he said, “Please, don’t call me that!”

“Sorry but why’d he call you that?” I asked.

He answered but I could tell by the way he spoke it was something he didn’t really want to tell me. “My ma 'n pa own a big farm back in Ohio.”

I never would have guessed that he was a farm boy. I mean everything about him said city or thug wanna-be. But then as I thought about it I saw that everything about him seemed over the top, with the clothes, the hair, the cigarettes and well, just everything. It was clear he was trying real hard not to look like a country boy.

He looked around as though making sure no one was watching and then asked, “Wanna see something?”

“What?” I asked.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the library without saying a single word.

I am not sure why I let him drag me all the way inside, up a flight of curved stairs and all the way to the back of a long, curved isle of floor to ceiling book shelves.

My nostrils were filled with the musty smell of old books as we walked fast. Suddenly we reached the end of the isle where he dropped to his knees beside a railing that overlooked the lower part of the library. He pulled my arm so that I dropped down beside him.

“What…” I started to ask, but he put a finger to my lips, to silence me.

I could smell the staleness of cigarettes on his fingers.

Removing his finger from my lips he then pointed down below us. I followed the invisible line of his finger to see two of the older teen guys, one of whom had been the one to call him ‘Heehaw’ outside. One was the tall red-head and the other was a shorter, buzz-headed guy. The red-head was standing, leaning against the wall of books while the other was on his knees before him. I’m sure you can guess what the kneeling guy was doing to the red-head.

I gasped audible and Kyle shushed me.

I’d seen similar things like that back home on the beaches. Oh sure, there was a time I used to find it fascinating and even embracing too, but eventually I’d sort of become numb to it. However, why I gasped was because of the size of the red-headed guys’ penis. Over the years I have seen a lot of nude guys (and girls too for that matter) on the beaches and skinny dipping out in the ocean, but I’d never seen a penis that… that… that HUGE! I’ve heard people brag about having one like an elephant’s truck but until that moment, I had never thought it could be true. I’m serious. It had to be at least ten to twelve inches long and as big around as my forearm. And pubes? Wow! It was like he had a red sheep shoved in his pants.

At either end of the isle the other teen guys were standing guard so the other two could get it on. They kept stealing glances back toward the two but mainly they were just acting as guard dogs.

I cannot tell you why I stayed there watching as long as I did. Maybe it was a combination of shock and curiosity that kept me there on my knees.

All of a sudden the boy on his knees stood up, dropped his jeans and pulled out through the fly of his white briefs, what looked like a baby’s penis in comparison to the red-head’s trouser snake.

The other boy dropped to his knees and though I was feeling like I needed to get the heck out of there; another part of me was compelled to stay. The red-head, without pulling up his pants turned around and stuck his backside out toward the shorter guy.

I found myself staring, gapped mouth and holding my breath as the shorter guy leaned over the red-head. Though I couldn’t see him actually going into the red-head, the look on his face told me he was inside him.

My attention was diverted when I heard the kid who’d drug me up here making grunting sounds. I looked over and his hand was down the front of his pants.

Suddenly there was a noise from below. When I looked the two guys had seen us watching them. They were quickly pulling up their pants. I looked over to my left and Kyle was nowhere to be seen.

Those four teens from below were rushing toward the stairs Kyle had drug me up moments before.

“OH CRAP!” I cried as I jumped to my feet and took off.

Sure enough I reached the stairs right as they started coming up. I was in flight mode, not really thinking where I was going; only that I wanted to be somewhere that those teens weren’t.

I ran back down that long curved isle and returned to the railing overlooking the lower area. There was no need to look back, I could hear those guys coming and knew I was cornered. Like I said I wasn’t thinking at all; I was in flight-mode. One second I was standing there at the railing, my back to oncoming teens and feeling panicked; the next second my hands were on the railing while my feet swung up and over it. I dropped about ten feet, landing on top of one of the long, tall wooden book cases. I made a lot of noise too. I yelled as I jumped and fell and when my shoes hit the hard wooden shelves the entire library echoed the thud. Every eye in the library had turned my way, but I wasn’t about to stop long enough for them to react. I leapt again, hitting the carpeted floor hard, tumbling and my shoulder ramming against one of those metal, rolling paper-back carts. It went one way as I used my momentum to rise to my feet and keep running.

“HEY!” someone shouted.

I heard someone cuss from above me as dozens of people seemed to be converging on me. I ran past the service desk, several ladies voices could be heard shouting but I didn’t stop and I went for the door, which I burst through. I didn’t stop running and I didn’t look back; I was sure they were right behind me.

I ran all the way back around the library in the direction I had come earlier and then toward the fountain. Mom and John were not where I had left them. They had decided to take a look at all the statues and sculptors too. I spotted them on the far side of the park near where we had come in.

Thankfully, right when I reached mom and John the tow truck pulled up to the park entrance. Mom and John must have left word where we would be. As he told us the part for our car had showed up shortly after we’d left for the park I was trying to keep my parents between me and the park.

“My guys are installing it now.” He said.

I could see Kyle come around the library where I had come from and he was running like the devil himself was after him. Maybe two seconds behind him was that red-headed guy and one of the other teen who’d been acting as lookout. I moved so that I was completely hidden behind John.

“…should be ready shortly.” He told my parents.

I was looking back into the park for the other guys, but never saw them. They must have thought I ran down the alley.

When the service guy offered to give us a ride back over to the service station I was opening the tow-truck door and climbing in before Mom and John could reject the offer.

“Thank you so much!” Mom said to the guy.

I nearly died when he turned toward the library entrance and then turned back into the alley behind the library.

“Where we going?” I asked while doing my best to hide the fact that I was scared.

He then assured us that it was a short-cut.

“Goes right past the old train depot… It’s a dentist office now.”

I had to sit on John’s lap so I was up high enough that it would have been impossible to not be spotted if any of those teens were around still.

Sure enough, they were bringing our car back from a test drive when we were walking into the service station.

Okay, I need to take a minute to share something with you about the goodness of people. So we’d been stranded an extra day in the small town due to our car and due to the part we needed not arriving when we were told it would. That sort of stuff happens right? However, what happened when John and Mom went to pay for the repairs would have NEVER happened back in Chula Vista.

The guy who had towed our car turned out to be the owner and felt so bad about everything that he would not charge my parents for the repair. He didn’t even want to charge for the new part, but John insisted so much that the owner guy relented.

It wasn’t until we were back on the road that John discovered that they had filled up our gas tank as well. Mom suggested that after we reached Maine, they should send him some money; John agreed.

They had parked our car right outside the front entrance to the service station so when we were ready to leave I went right out the door, opened the back car door and dove in.

As we pulled away, we were driving down the same road that lead back to Library Park. I saw those four teens come running around the front of building near the bike rack. It was clear they were still looking for me. Then I saw that the red-head had hold of Kyle who was now missing his green and white striped shirt. He had Kyle’s arm bent back in a chicken wing hold. Kyle looked to be in a lot of pain and crying.

Part of me wanted to shout to John to stop the car so that we could help Kyle, but a larger part of me was too scared. I ducked down in my seat so they couldn’t see me and stayed like that until we were well out of town.

By the time we got going again it was already late in the day. I don’t know when we stopped for the night; I just remember having dinner in the car while we drove on and then waking up the following morning.


I awoke to find myself lying on the backseat with the blue plastic tarp wrapped around me like I were a big blue burrito. Inside the plastic I was soaked to the bone and shivering because it had got fairly cold that night.

Three key things come to mind when I think about that particular rest stop. The first was John saying that we were almost to Kansas City. The second was that it was one of those old fashioned rest stops where there are no real toilets. Instead it had toilet seats screwed down over concrete holes that went down into a deep pit filled with foulness that I don’t even want to imagine. The third thing was what I saw when I was coming out of the rest stop; but I’ll tell you more about that in a second.

When I woke up I was groggy and out of it. I don’t think I was even awake completely when Mom handed me my breakfast, which was one of those mini boxes of cereal with the wide side of it cut open and milk poured over it. I made some protests about eating while wet, cold, and still wrapped up in the tarp, but my complaints fell on deaf ears.

No sooner had I gulped down the last bite then I realized that I had to go number-two very earnestly. I had to fight my way out of the tarp which seemed as though it wasn’t ready to let me go free. John had got out of the front seat and opened the back door, which I had been leaning on while trying to free my lower half. So when the door opened I fell out backward and probably would have busted my head had John not caught me inches before I made contact with the hard pavement. The one good thing was that when the door opened I slid out of the blue-burrito. As soon as I was on my feet I took off for the Rest Stop building, not even caring that I was soaked and wreaked of pee.

I wasn’t even halfway to the rest stop building before the smell hit me. It was so powerful that it smelled worse than me and that is saying something. I can only think of one word to describe the smell and that would be RUDE! The smell was so bad and I couldn’t stand it so soon after eating my breakfast; I immediately spun on my heals and hurled every last bit of my food back up.

After I had blew my breakfast all over a nearby bush I took in as deep a breath as my lungs would hold, then turned back around and ran as fast as I could into the crap-house. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single hole vacant and to make matters worse there were two men ahead of me. I held my breath as long as I could, but it wasn’t long enough.

This tall dark skinned man who was in line directly ahead of me looked down at me and asked, “You ok kid?”

Unable to hold my breath any longer I released what little air there was left in my lungs and sucked in frantically.

“Oh dear god!” I gasped and quickly covered my mouth and nose with my shirt and hands.

The big guy chuckled at me, held up his hands as if I was robbing him and asked, “Hey you’re not going to be sick on me are you?”

I shook my head without uncovering my mouth and nose.

The man then asked, “You look like your holding back an ocean!”

I shook my head again and was slightly amazed that he couldn’t tell that I was dressed in pee drenched clothes.

By the look he gave me I could tell that he’d figured out that I needed to poop and I didn’t have much time left. “Oh got a loaf in the oven do ya?”

“A loaf in the oven?” I thought, “Who the heck talks like that?”

With exaggerated movement I nodded while trying to breathe shallowly threw the fabric of my shirt; the fact that it was wet with stale pee didn’t matter to me right then. I hadn’t noticed that I was dancing back and forth from one foot to the other until the man brought it to my attention.

I think I grunted some sort of desperate reply because he and the man ahead of him allowed me to take the next hole that became available. Thankfully I didn’t have to wait, but about another ten seconds.

Normally when I am around a smell for a while, good or bad, my nose gets use to it and I can no longer smell it, but not this time. That smell was so bad that every breath was sheer horror! Before I could wipe myself I had to jump off the toilet seat and puked for a second time. I think this time was worse because I was looking right down into the evil pit. I had several drive heaves before I was able to sit back down to clean my bottom. When I was finished wiping myself I didn’t bother to stop and wash my hands; I just wanted out of that place as fast as possible.

As I was coming out I ran into that same man who let me cut in front of him before. When I ran into the back of him he reached around as he was turning and grabbed my shoulder. I guess he thought I was falling or something.

“Hey you’re all wet!” he said loud enough for everyone else to hear and then laughing he said, “Did ya fall in or something?”

I was too embarrassed to think of a good response so instead I excused myself and started running for the car. However about half way back is when the third thing I remember about that rest stop happened.

Well it wasn’t something that happened rather than something I saw. There was an old brown van; you know the big kind that normally have lots of seats in them? Well the back doors of the van were wide open and I could see inside. There was a boy sitting inside that looked to be about the same size as me and he didn’t have on anything except for what was obviously a very big diaper. At the time I didn’t think too much about it. I mean, I guess I figured he was handicapped or something, but within a day that assumption would be brought into question in a very big way.

Thankfully, when I got back to the car, Mom and John didn’t make me go back into the restroom to wash up as they had done at the other rest stop we’d spent the night at before. I told them about me puking all over that bush and again inside. Mom offered to make me a sandwich, but I didn’t think I would be hungry again for a long time.

Before we got back on the road, John walked me over to this old style water pump. I didn’t realize he had a bundle under one arm until he told me strip naked right there in front of everyone and made me wash the stale pee from my body while he worked the pump. I had a moment of hesitation at the idea of stripping naked at the Rest Stop but it was a very brief moment. Once he felt I was clean enough he gave me dry clothes to wear while he rinsed my others.

Back at the car he stuffed the tarp and my wet items in the back of the car while giving me a confusing gaze.

I was sick most of that morning and didn’t start feeling a little better until Mom announced that we had reached the home of our 18th President, Ulysses S. Grant. We didn’t stay there, but a couple of hours; however it was one of the neatest places and I even got to meet Ulysses S. Grant. I know he wasn’t the real one, I’m not that stupid, but it was still cool to shake his hand and get an old fashion black and white picture taken with him. Boy we had to stand still a long time for that picture, but it was worth it.

That very same day we stopped at the home of President Abraham Lincoln in Springfield, Illinois. It was cool too, but I think I liked President Grants home better.

John said that he didn’t think he could stand sleeping in the car that smelled of urine for another night so we got to stay at a real motel that night and we got to take real baths in a real bathtub and eat real food in a real restaurant. We also got to get our cloths washed which was good because my pajamas smelled so bad that putting them on made me gag.

When it was my turn for my bath my mom kept saying stuff like, “Make sure you wash extra well since you didn’t get to wash up this morning.” Or “You better do an extra good job washing because if you still smell when you’re done then I’m going to come in there and wash you myself.” That last one was enough encouragement for me to scrub every inch of my body three times. And before I was done I used the shampoo to wash all over because it smelled like strawberries. Sure enough, when I came out of the bathroom both Mom and John gave me the sniff test. Thankfully I passed both tests!

I was grateful that there were two Queen sized beds; one for Mom and John to share and one for me to have all to myself. While I had been washing away the stale urine from my body, Mom had stripped the bed, placed the blue tarp over the hotel mattress, and then put the sheets back on the bed. I hadn’t thought about it until right this moment but the tarp hadn’t smelled so she or John must have cleaned it while I was in the tub.

John made the comment, “I’m sure every hotel and motel is use to sheet-wetters, but no need to go and ruin their mattress.”

I fell asleep watching the movie ‘Goonies’ on the motel room’s television set.


The next morning I was awakened by the smell of coffee and fresh donuts. John had slipped out before Mom and I woke up, got coffee, a thing of milk for me, fresh made donuts from across the street and brought them back.

However, I was forbidden from having any donuts until I went and showered again as I was once more covered in pee from the previous night.

While I was in the shower John came into the bathroom, pulled open the shower curtain and tossed the wadded up tarp in with me.

“While you’re at it, be sure to give this a good scrubbing and rinse it well. Leave it hanging over the shower rod to drip dry.”

Right as he was about to pull the shower curtain closed he reached out and turned the hot-water off.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooohhhh!!!” I cried as my warm body was suddenly sprayed with icy-cold water.

I heard him laughing as the he ran from the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“SO NOT COOL!” I shouted while trying to press my body against the back wall to avoid the cold water while also reaching down to turn the hot-water back on.

This time when I came out of the bathroom, wrapped in my towel, I wasn’t sniff tested. While I sat on their bed and scarfed down several jelly filled donuts, Mom rolled my wet sheets from my bed into a loose ball and then stuffed them into the complementary plastic laundry bag which was then left by the door.

While John finished his coffee, I got dressed, and mom got the car repacked. And before the sun was even fully up, we were on the road again.

In Ohio we were going to stop at the National Aviation Heritage Museum, but there was some sort of big event going on that day and it was insanely crowded. So instead we went and saw the Wright Brothers bicycle shop which wasn’t crowded at all.

On the way back to our car from the bicycle shop we found a bunch of black teenaged guys leaning against and sitting on our car as though they owned it. When John asked them to move they started cussing and acting all tough, but then this heavyset black man in a nice suit walked up. He began yelling at the guys and shouting Bible stuff at them; when he said that he was going to tell their mothers, every last one of them took off running in different directions. Before that black man showed up it was pretty scary, but it was so funny when all those guys took off running like that. I guess he put the fear of mama into them.

The black man turned out to be a Baptist Preacher named George W. Doleshire and though he talked kind of loud and kind of weird, he was an OK guy. I think Gary would have like him.

When Mom and John explained to him that we were on our way to our new lives in Maine and said that we needed to get going again he insisted that we have dinner with him and his family.

He said something like, “Now what sort of Christian would I be if I let pilgrims like you three wonderful travelers leave with empty bellies and such a negative impression of Ohio’s people?”

Boy, I sure am glad we went to his house because if we hadn’t, I never would have met his daughter Jacquelyn. Jacquelyn is my age and the only sister to seven older brothers. She and I became friends the moment we said ‘Hi’ to one another! I guess I liked her so much because we liked a lot of the same stuff and we had almost the same color skin too.

In California most everyone assumed that I was part Mexican when really I am part Italian. Without her makeup my mom has a very fair complexion whereas John, being full blooded Italian, is more russet-olive toned. And since I take after John, everyone says that I look like I have a nice deep tan all the time. However, in Ohio someone with my color skin and dark hair is believed to be part black. I like the way Jacquelyn described our skin color as creamed mocha. Talking with Jacquelyn I learned that in Ohio they don’t call black people, black; they say African-American. Until we came to Ohio, I’d never even heard that expression before.

I don’t think Jacquelyn’s brothers much liked me being so nice with their sister because they kept bugging us and wouldn’t let us alone. I felt like a lone meerkat cornered by a pack of hungry Hyenas. However, she finally told them to, “Butt-out” and even punched two of them when they wouldn’t stop staring at me as if I was going to be their next meal.

The other reason that Jacquelyn and I became such good friends so quickly was because she didn’t make fun of me when she found out that I wet the sheet at night. Pastor Doleshire and his wife invited us to stay the night and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Jacquelyn had been in the kitchen sneaking us some cookies and Cokes when she overheard my mom telling her parents that I had a problem with wetting at night. Jacquelyn came out looking all glum and quiet like.

“What’s wrong?” I asked when I saw that she didn’t have the cookies or the Cokes, “Did you get caught?”

She sat down on the street curb next to me and quietly whispered, “I just heard something I don’t think I was supposed to hear and I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Come on, why would I be mad at you? What did you hear?” I asked nudging her with my elbow.

She was wringing her hands while staring down at her orange shoe laces.

“I heard your mom saying that you still wet the bed.” She said.

Now I had heard the term ‘wet the bed’ before, but only a couple times. Where I come from, the term is ‘wet the sheet’, but even still I knew what she meant.

Before I could get mad or embarrassed or say anything she quickly blurted out, “But I don’t care! I like you and I promise I won’t ever tell! And please don’t be mad at me!” She then threw her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder while she hugged me.

Let me tell you, her hugging me right then was the right thing to do because inside I wanted to jump to my feet and run away! Having her hug me, canceled out all feelings of flight and then some! Heck I bet that if I hadn’t had my shoes on, my toes would have shot off the end of my feet because they were tingling like crazy!

Unfortunately Jacquelyn wasn’t the only one that over heard my mom’s conversation and within minutes all seven of her brothers knew my deep, dark secret.

They started teasing me and saying things like, “I don’t want the little baby sleeping in my room!” and “He should have to sleep in the bathtub!” and worst of all, “Since he’s not house broken I bet Mom will make him sleep outside in the dog house!”

I was so glad when Jacquelyn stood up, put her hands on her hips and said, “I’m going to tell Momma on you!” and stormed into the house. I don’t know if she actually told on them, but they didn’t say another word to me while we stayed with the Doleshire family.

Mrs. Doleshire made me a nice bed on the floor in Jacquelyn’s room and later after everyone went to bed I found out that Jacquelyn had begged her mom and dad to let me sleep in her room. I don’t think her dad was too happy with that idea seeing how Jacquelyn is a girl and I am a boy. However, Mr. Doleshire might be able to scare off a bunch of teenaged boys, but I don’t think he has very much say as to what goes on in his home; I think Mrs. Doleshire is the real one in charge.

That night something happened that changed my life forever! While I was alone in the bathroom putting on my pajama’s Mom came in carrying something. She looked kind of scared as she sat down on the toilet so that she was almost eye-to-eye with me.

“Alvin?” she started and I could tell by her tone that I wasn’t going to like whatever she was about to say.

She said my name again then sighed heavily before holding out what at first I thought was some kind of funny looking towel wrapped in plastic.

Then she said, “I think you should wear this to bed tonight.”

I honestly didn’t get it.

“Why should I wear a towel?” I asked her.

Mom smiled nervously and my heart started to beat really fast, but I didn’t know why it was doing that.

“Alvin sweetheart,” she reached out and took my hand, “this will keep you from wetting the sheets tonight.” Mom said trying to sound positive.

I tell you what, Sherlock Holmes I am not, because I was still clueless.

I crinkled up my nose and asked, “How’s it going to do that?”

Without answering me she began to unfold it and I saw that it wasn’t a towel in a plastic bag at all, it was … GULP … a disposable diaper!"

“M-m-mom I can’t wear that!” I exclaimed and quickly realized that I had tears rolling down my face. I pulled my arm free from her hand and stepped backward as I swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in my throat. I hated the fact that I was blubbering, but I was honestly scared to death and I had to make sure she knew I was absolutely against this idea. However my argument wasn’t exactly a stellar example of my strong grasp of the art of litigation; in fact, in its entirety it consisted of only five measly words. “Mom, please don’t make me!” Pitiful huh?

Well, she did make me… sort of; actually what she did was trick me into at least trying it on for a minute just to see how it felt. Now I have never been run through the heart with a sword, however, I think I know just how that would feel because when she made me lie down on that cool bathroom floor while she taped the diaper onto me I swear I thought I was dying.

After she had it on me she helped me to stand up and let me look at myself in the full length mirror that hung on the back of their bathroom door. When I told her that I didn’t like it she said that since I already had it on I might as well keep it on for the night.

Like I said, she had tricked me into trying it and now she was trying to change the rules. But oh no! I wasn’t about to fall into her trap a second time.

When I tried to reach for one of the tapes she smacked the back of my bare leg really hard and told me to leave it alone. It didn’t really hurt when she hit me; I think it stunned me more than anything else. When I tried to protest again she once more took hold of my hands and tried to explain that we were guests in the Doleshire’s home and she wouldn’t have me throwing a tantrum and embarrassing her and my father.

“Embarrassing her and John?” I thought to myself, “Yeah I am sure you both would just die of humiliation!” I’m sure if I had actually said that I probably would have got smacked again.

I suppose I should be grateful that she at least let me put my pajama’s on over the bright white plastic diaper so that it was out of site; well, that’s what I tried to make myself believe. Actually, there was no way to hide the fact that I was wearing the diaper. It was so thick that it made my, butt look like I’d been stung by a thousand African Killer bees!

When Mom opened the bathroom door I checked that the hallway was clear and then ran to Jacquelyn’s room. Thankfully she wasn’t there yet, and I saw that Mrs. Doleshire had laid several blankets on the floor for me. I dove under the blankets and made sure to pull them all the way up to my chin. I then wiped my tears away; I didn’t want Jacquelyn thinking I was a crybaby.

Not too long after that Jacquelyn came in wearing a pair of pink footie-pajamas that had a little cork screw tale in the back just like a little piggy. I was instantly reminded of that one Christmas movie where the boys’ aunt sends him a set of bunny-rabbit footie-pajamas complete with long ears and a big fluffy tail. I couldn’t help myself and gave her a little snort of laughter. Boy was I glad when she laughed too. She sat down on the side of her bed, pretending to step on my leg as she did so.

I rose up onto my elbows and said, “Hey watch it!” even though I knew she was only messing with me.

“So let me see!” she said.

“See what?” I asked.

Jacquelyn rolled her eyes, leaned forward and gave me a shove. I fell back against the pillow and was just about to laugh when she reached down and yanked the blanket back exposing me from the knees up. I scrambled to cover myself again, but she giggled and flung the blanket to the other side of the room.

“HEY!” I complained.

“Hey yourself!” She said and pushed me back down again.

This time however she sat down on my chest so that I was looking right at her curly little pink piggy tail. I felt her pull at the waistband of my pajama bottoms and try as I might I couldn’t stop her from partially depantsing me.

“Jacquelyn, stop!” I cried, but she silenced me with a bounce of her bottom against my chest effectively driving the air right out of my lungs.

While I was trying to get my breath back she surprised me again by spinning around and planting a kiss right on my lips. I didn’t need a mirror to know that my entire head had just turned a brilliant shade of red. I probably looked like one of those red thermometers in the cartoons.

I was flabbergasted! It was the first time in my life I had ever been kissed by a girl like that… I mean a girl that wasn’t my mom or grandmothers or somebody like that.

She grabbed hold of my chin and shook my head, “You better breath!”

“I can’t! You’re squishing me.” I groaned.

She smiled and I never thought I would ever see a smile more beautiful than my mom’s, but I sure did that night.

“Oh!” she said and got up.

I didn’t try to pull my pajama pants back up or to hide my diaper. Heck, I didn’t move at all because I couldn’t.

She carried the blanket back over, but before covering me up she knelt down and pulled my pajama bottoms back over the diaper front. She was smiling so gleefully as she did it and after tucking the blanket around me she kissed me again only this time she did it slow and for what seemed like eons.

“Good night Alvin!” she said and then hopped into her bed.

I’m not sure if I said good night back or not. I must have laid there staring at the darkened ceiling for over an hour. My mind and my heart wouldn’t slow down so that I could go to sleep. When I did eventually fall asleep I woke up a few hours later because I felt cold. I rose up on my elbows to see that I’d kicked off my blanket. For half a second I thought about leaving it off, but then I was worried that one of Jacquelyn brothers or her parents might come in and realize that I was wearing a diaper. It never even occurred to me that the diaper might have been her parent’s idea. It also never occurred to me to ask why they might have diapers for older kids like me. Then again, maybe John had bought them at some point between that hotel and arriving in Ohio. However I cannot recall a single stop where he could have bought something like that. I just don’t know and never thought about where it had come from.


The next morning I awoke to find Jacquelyn was already up and gone from her room. At first I had forgot about the diaper, but then I sat up and felt the oddest feeling. It felt like I was sitting on wet grass or something like that. I pulled the soft blanket back and seen that not only was the sheet beneath me dry, but so were my pajamas. I felt the front of the diaper through my pajama pants.

“Wow!” I gasped, “It really worked!”

And then panic set in.

What was I supposed to do now? Take off the wet diaper and do what with it? Mercifully John walked in just in time; another second or two and I would have worked myself into a full-on shark frenzy.

John greeted me with a jovial, “Good morning Tiger-fish!” which was something that he hadn’t called me since I was like six-years-old.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

I didn’t know if he knew about the diaper or not and suddenly I felt overwhelmingly ashamed. He probably already saw the pee-swollen evidence, however instinct told me that I needed to cover up and fast. With a swift yank I pulled the blanket up to my stomach.

John heaved a heavy sigh, “Oh no! Mi non dica che il pannolino non ha funzionato?”

For those of you that don’t speak Italian, what John said to me was, “Oh no! Don’t tell me the diaper didn’t work?”

“Huh? Did Mom tell you?” I asked both astonished and mortified to hear him say the actual D-word.

He half smiled, knelt down, pulled the blanket back and felt the sheet around me.

“Sarò bene,” he said, which translated as “Well I’ll be,” and then in English he added, “it did work! That’s terrific!”

When he nudged my chin with his finger I realized that I was sitting there staring at him with my mouth hanging open.

“What do you think of that?” He asked as though he were testing the waters with me to see how I felt about it. When I didn’t do or say anything he then asked in Italian, “Are you going to need help getting out of it?”

I didn’t think much about it at the time, but I think he was speaking in Italian because he was trying to keep this between us… I mean if any stray ears were within hearing range.

I guess I was still in some sort of state of shock because I wasn’t able to answer him.

“Dicagli che cosa; appena la bugia indietro ed ha lasciato il vostro papà anziano vede quanto arrugginito le sue abilità cambianti sono.” He said while pushing on my chest until I was lying flat on my back. He basically had said that I should lie back while he checked to see how rusty his changing skills were.

He took hold of my pajama bottoms and pulled them down by my ankles and with a single, firm tug he yanked them off my legs and feet; kind of the way a magician pulls a table cloth off a table without disturbing the dishes.

Even in my befuddled state I could tell that the tapes made a lot of noise as he pulled them away from the plastic. And when he pulled the front of the diaper open the cool morning air hit my damp skin causing a tremor to run through me.

“Freddo?” he asked still speaking in Italian.

I think I nodded that I was cold.

“You know something?” John said now in English and then continued, “I think this could have held quite a bit more.”

He slid his hand under the small of my back and lifted my bottom several inches so that he could pull the diaper out from under my, butt.

As though he was having a conversion with himself he continued to talk softly in English, “Maybe we should try these tonight too. It might keep the car from smelling like an outhouse.”

John rolled the diaper into a nice ball and used the tapes to hold it closed while saying, “You should put your pajama bottoms back on. Your mother is running a hot bath for you right now.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I snapped out of my daze, sprang to my feet, pulled my pajamas back on and didn’t even care that they were inside out and backwards. I could only pray that none of Jacquelyn’s brothers were anywhere around as I ran from the room, across the hallway, and into the bathroom.

Sure enough Mom was bent over the bathtub testing the water with her hand to be sure it wasn’t too hot.

“Good morning.” She said with a warm smile.

Quickly I pushed the bathroom door closed before anyone could walk by and see in. I’m not sure why I was still so nervous; maybe I was scared that someone may catch a whiff of the stale urine that was clinging to my lower region.

“Oh you already took it off?” Mom asked as she realized that I was no longer wearing the diaper.

Shaking my head, “John did it,” I said as though I were accusing him of a great crime.

She seemed to be surprised by that bit of information, “Well that’s wonderful!” she finally said before reaching out and taking hold of my arm.

She pulled me toward her and then felt my pajama bottoms for any sign of moisture. “Well it did a good job of keeping your pajama’s dry.”

I wasn’t sure I could take much more and in a still small voice I asked, “Mom, can I take my bath now.”

“Of course you can sweetie.” She said kissing my cheek and petting my hair.

Alone in the bathroom, I stripped off my night clothes and climbed into the tub. The water was a bit warmer then I like it, but it helped to soothe and calm my troubled heart. However, I didn’t stay in the tub for very long. I had heard the unmistakable sound of Jacquelyn’s brothers walking past the bathroom door and feared that one or more of them might walk in on me.

It had occurred to me to lock the bathroom door before I got into the tub, but there hadn’t been a lock on the door. Back home we had the kind of door knobs that you push in and turn a quarter turn to lock them, but in the Doleshire house all of the knobs appeared to be unlockable except for the front and rear doors to the house. I don’t know why I checked, it just seemed to be something odd that I had to look into before we left. I guess in Ohio they don’t lock interior doors like we do in California. It seemed weird to me, but then I guess people in different parts of the world do things differently. For example: In California, GROWN KIDS DON’T WEAR DIAPERS TO BED!!!

When I got out of the bath I realized that I didn’t have any other clothes to put on. It hadn’t occurred to me before and thus I had no choice, but to slip my pajama’s back on so that I could go in search of something else to wear.

I didn’t have to look very far to find my clothes. Folded and neatly stacked on Jacquelyn’s bed were my clothes which Mom had laid out for me. After dressing I found my way downstairs where Jacquelyn was sitting waiting for me at the breakfast table; unfortunately, so were her brothers.

Ok, I need to explain something here… although her brother’s didn’t actually say anything about last night’s oddity, every last one of them were looking at me weird; like maybe they knew something after all. However it was Jacquelyn’s oldest brother that was giving me the strongest negative vibes. I could tell that he really didn’t like me and the only reason I can think of is because they didn’t like their only sister having a guy friend. That’s when it hit me… THE KISS!

“OH MY GOD!” I thought to myself, “THEY KNOW ABOUT HER KISSING ME!”

While I was secretly having a heart attack I tried not to look at any of them as I ate my breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, and toast. However, I could feel their eyes boring holes through me.

After breakfast Jacquelyn and I buddied around for about an hour until Mom said that we were leaving. During that time I kept having the feeling like at any second her brothers were going to jump out of hiding and turn me into shark bait. But they never did reappear; not until it was time for us to get back on the road.

Leaving Jacquelyn and her parents was nearly as difficult as it was leaving all my friends back in California. Mrs. Doleshire made Mom promise to call or write when we made it to Maine. They also sent us off with a lot of food and several bags of warmer clothes that they said I would need in Maine. I promised Jacquelyn that I would write to her and she promised to write back too.

Jacquelyn’s brothers were all standing or sitting on the front steps to their house giving me their meanest looks. When Jacquelyn gave me a kiss goodbye, not as passionately as the night before, but still pretty hot, every last one of them stood up, but thankfully they didn’t come after me.

Bashfully I looked up at her mom who was standing right there. She gave me a knowing smile and a wink. Boy I was glad she didn’t get mad.

Before I got into the car Jacquelyn whispered into my ear, “See you, diaper buddy!”

“What? What was that?” I wanted to say, but I never got the chance. John pushed me into the car saying, “Alright Romeo! That’s enough of that!”

I spent quite a while sitting quietly in the back seat looking out the window at the trees blurring past. Besides flipping and turning those four words around and around in my mind, I also found myself missing my friends back in California more than ever, and now I was missing my newest friend Jacquelyn too. I also kept replaying in my mind how Jacquelyn had pulled down my pajamas to get a look at the diaper I was wearing and each time I thought about it, my heart felt like it was going to explode right through my shirt.

That night we didn’t stop at another highway rest stop, but instead John found a public campground somewhere just outside of Detroit, Michigan. The campground was kind of a cross between a low budget resort and an RV park. They had a few small cabins for rent and lots of camp sites. They had a nice pond for swimming, a cool rope for swinging out and dropping into the pond, a diving platform out in the middle of the pond and best of all, it only cost us eleven dollars to rent one of their camp sites for the night.

We had stopped around seven in the evening which meant I got to swim for about an hour before they closed the pond for swimming.

I was having so much fun and enjoying the campgrounds that even after it was dark, Mom had to come hunt me down and drag me back to our car.

“Alvin it’s time to be quite. Others are trying to sleep now.” She said.

“Oh, alright!” I surrendered and ran back to the car where I found that John had built a cool camp fire.

Apparently the camp grounds also sells fire wood for a nominal fee. Since I was too busy running around I hadn’t yet had my dinner so John stuck a couple hotdogs onto a sharpened stick and gave it to me to roast over the fire. While I ate my hotdogs Mom made us S’mores, which by the way are better when made over an open fire then an open oven door.

“Boy these are good Mom!” I said with half a mouth full of S’more.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She said while licking the chocolate from her fingers.

We sat watching the fire for a while until I happened to yawn which was my parent’s queue to send me to the backseat of the car for a good night’s sleep. However things played out a bit different then I was expecting them too.

True to his word; as soon as I began showing signs that I was growing sleepy John said, “I better get your diapers out of the back so you can get some shuteye.”

I was caught off guard, “What?” I began stammering, “You mean… I mean… Wait… You really?”

When Mom opened the side door to the backseat I exclaimed, “Right here? What if someone sees? But Mom I don’t want to wear one again!”

“Keep your voice down,” she said, “Nobody will see and besides no one here knows you or will ever get to see you again. And if someone did manage to see you they probably won’t even remember come morning.”

“But Mooooom!” I pleaded, but it was no good. They were both firmly decided that I was going to wear a diaper for the second night in a row and no amount of pleading, whining or crying was going to sway them.

So with my head hanging low I hesitantly climbed into the back of our car and laid myself across the seat. After she had taped the diaper on me she took my pajamas and said, “It’s going to be a warm night so I don’t think you’ll need to wear these.”

“Moooooooom!” I tried to protest, but she told me to cover up with a sheet and go to sleep.

It took quite a while for me to fall to sleep because I couldn’t shut my brain off. I kept thinking about Jacquelyn, how she kissed me both times and what she had said to me just before we left.


When I woke up the next morning the car was already moving.

“Where are we?” I yawned and lifted myself up onto one elbow.

As soon as my head was higher than my belly I belched.

“Well good morning to you too!” Mom said with a chuckle.

“Oh sorry!” I said and then groaned, “Ugh! That tasted terrible!”

“Canada,” John answered as to where we were.

“Canada?” I nearly shouted, “What are we doing way up here?”

“You’ll see!” was all Mom would tell me.

“Hungry?” John asked.

“Starving! I could eat a whale!” I said sitting up and suddenly remembering that I was waking up wearing a diaper for the second morning in a row. Before my brain engaged my mouth opened, “I-I’m still wearing a diaper!”

“That’s my boy!” John started to say, “Sharpest hook in the tackle box!”

“You were sleeping so soundly that we didn’t want to wake you up.” Mom said, “And besides, it looked like it could hold a lot more anyway.”

“But…” I started to object, and then stopped when I realize I didn’t know what to say.

“And besides, this way we don’t have to stop until we get to where we’re going. We’ll be able to make better time.” John added.

Mom handed me a piece of cold chicken that Mrs. Doleshire had sent along with us and I sat back into the seat to sulk. We stopped about an hour later and I thought to myself, “Finally I can get out of the wet diaper and into some normal clothes!”, but that’s not exactly what happened.

“Alvin, don’t argue!” Mom said sounding tired and more than a little irritable, “Just lie down so I can change you!”

“But Mom I don’t wet when I am awake!” I was so worked up that I actually began to cry, “I don’t want to wear a diaper now! I’m not a baby!”

John returned from going pee and when I spotted him I cried out, “John tell her I don’t need…”, but I didn’t even get to finish before he snapped at me.

“Do as you’re told and don’t argue with your mother or so help me, I’ll pull you out of that car and whip your bare behind right here in front of God and everyone!” he yelled.

“NOOO!” I shouted and earned a smack across my face by Mom.

It has been so long since Mom had struck my face for any reason that it honestly scared the fight right out of me.

“Now lie down!” she ordered and I reluctantly laid myself on the seat without even taking off my seatbelt.

When she was done taping a fresh diaper onto me she tried to slide my jeans on over it, but the diaper was too thick and she couldn’t get them to zip let alone snap.

“Oh!” She said as if a light bulb had gone on above her head, “Honey, could you see if there are any larger pants in one of those bags of clothes the Dolshire’s gave us?”

John popped the last bite of his chicken leg into his mouth before getting back out of the car again. It didn’t take him long to find pants that would fit over the diaper although I had been hoping he wouldn’t find any and Mom would have to let me wear my underwear and regular jeans.

Mad doesn’t even come close to describing how I was feeling; I was so dang hot that if someone would have cracked an egg over my head it would have started sizzling. I didn’t talk to Mom and John the rest of the morning. Even when they offered me something to wash down the chicken, I didn’t reply. It wasn’t until Mom asked, “Are you done being a brat yet? Because you are welcome to stay in the car while your father and I go in there.”

Still buckled in place, I leaned forward to look out the front windshield to where Mom was pointing and I don’t think I believed what I was seeing until Mom said, “There it is; the ‘Ripley’s Believe it or Not Museum’!”

I screamed, “ARE WE GOING IN?” when I saw the giant skyscraper lying on its side with King Kong standing on it.

“We sure are!” John said sticking his finger into his right ear; he then jokingly added, “However, we don’t have to if you don’t want too.”

I started bouncing on the seat only held in place because I had on the seatbelt. “YES—YES—YES, I WANT TO GO! I WANT TO GO!!!”

Mom and John laughed and I think for the very first time during the whole trip so far I realized that John wasn’t drunk and he was acting a lot like he used to before he lost his job.

Ok, so aside from being out on the ocean on a surfboard, the Ripley’s Believe it or Not Museum is now my most favorite place on the planet and I think I saw every exhibit before Mom and John found me and said it was lunch time. We got our hands stamped with invisible ink on the way out so that after we ate we could get back in to the museum. I made the lady at the gate give me my stamp on my forehead instead of my hand; she thought it was pretty funny too.

It wasn’t until we were back in the car that I realized I’d been so excited and enjoying myself so much, that I’d completely forgot that I was wearing a diaper all morning. I was sitting in the backseat eating a ham sandwich when I got the feeling that I needed to pee and I don’t mean a small feeling… I mean, I felt like if I didn’t get to go pee soon I was going to have pee shooting out of my ears and nose like a lawn sprinkler! I tried to tell Mom and John that I needed to go, but I had a mouth full of sandwich. And then when I tried to swallow it before I had it adequately chewed I choked a little. I coughed once and it came back up, but that little cough was enough to cause me to begin flooding the diaper I was wearing. I knew it was happening and even though I tried to stop the pee from coming out it kept coming and nothing I could do was going to stop it. What made it even worse was that I started crying like I’d broken my leg or arm or something worse.

Several minutes later, after scaring my parents nearly to death, I wiped at my tears and without looking at either one of them I told them what had happened. I thought they were going to be upset with me or say I couldn’t go back into the museum, but they weren’t upset at all. As a matter of fact, when I told them what had happened John started laughing.

He said, “I completely forgot you were wearing that thing!”

“Honey, don’t laugh!” Mom said hugging me tightly, “Can’t you see that he’s embarrassed enough already.”

“Didn’t you have to pee while you were inside?” Mom asked.

I shrugged.

“Having too much fun huh?” John asked.

I nodded and wiped my tears with the back of my hand.

However, that wasn’t the worst thing to have happen that day. Once I had calmed down and finished my lunch Mom had me lie down on the back seat while she removed my wet diaper and then using a bottle of water they had bought inside she used one of my t-shirts to wipe some of the pee off.

Don’t ask me why because I honestly don’t know why I didn’t protest when Mom suggested that she change my wet diaper and put me into a clean one. I guess I was so embarrassed to have wet when I was wide awake that I just wanted to block out the whole thing.

Boy that bottled water was sure cold and when she was satisfied that I was clean enough down there she slid a dry diaper under my bottom and pulled the front up over my privates. That’s when we all heard some kid shout, “Mommy see, I told you he wears diapers just like me!”

I wonder if it is possible for so much blood to rush to your face from embarrassment that your face could explode right off our skull. I imagine that it would be kind of like over filling a water-balloon.

“Joey, you know better than that!” A woman’s voice scolded, “How would you like it if someone shouted something like that while you were getting your diaper changed?”

Joey, whoever he was, then shouted, “Sorry!”

I put my hands over my face as the woman said, “I am so very sorry. He gets a little too excited sometimes.”

John then added, “Kids? Don’t you wish they came with an off switch?”

I heard the lady laugh, “I’d settle for a mute, button about now?”

It took me a while before I was recovered enough to dare sitting up and risk someone getting a look at my glowing red face. But when I did sit up no one was around that I could see other than Mom and John.

“So are you too mortified to go back in?” John finally asked.

I had to think about it for all of three seconds before I shook my head, “No, I’m ready.” Even though I didn’t really feel ready, there wasn’t much that could keep me from touring the museum yet again.

First Mom washed my face using more of that cold water and oddly that same t-shirt. When she said, “Now I think you’re ready!” I slide out of the car and onto my feet.

At first I was feeling uncomfortable and felt as though everyone was looking at me, but once I was at the front door again all apprehension dissipated out the top of my head. The same stamp lady was still there and I had to hold my head under this black light so that she could see my return stamp. She smiled, laughed and waved me in.

Just as before, Mom and John let me go off by myself, while they went off in a different direction. Since I had already been through the whole museum I knew which exhibits I wanted to see again. The first one I went to see was the Giant Three-toed Sloth and I hadn’t been standing there very long when I heard that same kid’s voice from the parking lot.

“Wow, look Mommy! Look at the giant bear!” he broadcasted.

Before I even saw them I felt myself blushing again. I looked around and spotted the kid standing on the far side of the sloth exhibit. Even though I hadn’t seen him earlier, somehow I knew him in an instant.

His mother corrected him, “That isn’t a bear; it’s a Sloth.”

I’m not a very good judge of age, but I guess maybe he could have been six years old, but no older. He had very short, bright-red hair and freckles to match.

“You sure that ain’t a bear Mommy?” the boy asked as he rushed up closer to the Giant Sloth.

It was obvious that the lady coming up behind him was his mother because she had the same color hair only a lot more of it. She wasn’t the most attractive woman in the world, but she also was a long way from ugly too.

Right about then a really fat man stepped on my foot.

“Ooow! Hey watch it mister!” I shouted.

The fat oaf didn’t even bother to apologize for nearly crippling me.

When I looked up again the boy and his mother were gone. I was surprised to find that I was a little bummed about that, but then I was nearly scared out of my skin when from behind me the boy announced himself by saying, “Hey, you’re the one I seen before!”

My heart stopped beating when I thought he was going to publicize to the whole museum that I was wearing a diaper.

“My name is Joey! What’s yours?” he asked.

A little panicked I tried to say my name, but my voice cracked and only added to my already ruddy-red countenance.

I cleared my throat and tried to answer him again, “Alvin.”

I looked around for his mother and seen her walking toward us. Joey leaned forward and whispered softly, “I wear diapers just like you!”

Okay, at least he whispered it, but that didn’t much matter because I think at that moment they could have used my face to heat a small third world country for several years.

Joey gave me a wink and was about to say something again when his mother reached out and snatched him back. “I told you to stop wandering off.”

Sort of secretively Joey pointed at me and said softly, “But Mommy that is him!”

I was no longer the only one with a red face then because his mother flushed as red hot as I felt.

“I am so sorry if he, uh, we… I mean if we embarrassed you.” She said very ruefully.

“His name is Alvin!” Joey told her and when he told her my name he did so exactly the way I had said it. And before his mother could stop him he yanked down the front of his pants. “See just like you!”

“Alvin?! Alvin?!” someone very far away was calling my name.

“Stand back and give him some air!” whoever that was, they sounded closer now.

“It’s okay; he just fainted.” It sounded like a woman speaking.

“Alvin?” That time I knew the voice; it belonged to John.

“Dad?” I heard myself call out.

“It’s okay Alvin; you’re mom and I, are right here.” John said.

“Dad, my head hurts!” I said.

“I think he hit his head when he fainted.” And now I knew that the woman’s voice I’d heard calling my name had been Joey’s mom.

That same lady that had stamped my forehead had come over, as well as a Japanese looking security guard. After a few minutes I was sitting up holding a cold pack against the back of my head. And within ten minutes I felt fine again except for the back of my head which had formed a nice big lump.

After everyone else had drifted away Joey’s mom, who we found out was named Beth, explained to my parents what had happened and apologized profusely for everything.

“Honest Mom, I’m alright!” I said just wishing that it had never happened.

“Gosh Alvin,” Joey began, “Your head bounced like a ball three times!”

That same security guard came back with a tall man in a dark blue suit. The man said his name, but I don’t remember it now. He asked a few questions and when everything was done Joey and I both had free Ripley’s Believe it or Not shirts with matching ball caps and a tiny fake shrunken head on a leather string that we wore around our necks.

“Gee whiz,” John said, “If you had only broken your arm or leg too, we could have probably taken the Giant Sloth with us.”

“Jooohnnn!” I grumbled.

When Mom explained to Joey’s mom that we were moving to Maine, Beth insisted that we come stay at her place for the night. There was no way that Mom and John could have said no because Joey began squealing and jumping around like a monkey hopped up on extra strength coffee.

“Oh yes! Please say yes! Oh please! Oh pllleeeeeeeeease say yes! Oh please! Oh please! Oh please! I’ll give you my shrunken head if you say yes! Please! Please! Please! Please!”

He was only silenced when his mom placed her hand tightly over his mouth.

They had a big farm not very far from the museum and a really big farm house too. And it was just Joey and his mom because his dad was in Iraq.

I was no sooner out of the car then Joey was dragging me off.

“Come on I want to show you my fort.” He said.

“Boys, dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes!” Beth ca

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

“Okay Mommy!!!” Joey shouted.

I looked back at Mom and saw her waving at me as if to say that it was okay for me to go.

Joey had run me all over the place for about twenty minutes when he suddenly stopped.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Wait!” he said and then after about a minute he said, “Okay, let’s go!”

“Hold on a sec, why did we stop?” I asked out of curiosity.

“I had to go!” He said as if it wasn’t such a big deal.

With mouth hanging open and eyes bugging out of my skull I exclaimed, “Did you just?!”

“Huh?” He asked with an annoyed grunt as he turned to see why I wasn’t moving.

I lost control of the volume of my voice and couldn’t help, but blurt out, “OH BOY! YOU DID, DIDN’T YOU?!”

He rocked up onto his tip-toes and squawked out a high-pitched, “Yep, yep, yep! Did, did, did!” then his face spit horizontally with the evilest and cutest grin.

Stunned into silence, I stood there not knowing what to say or do. My stalled mind was restarted by an ear piercing clanging of what sounded like a church bell. The tolling of the bell seemed to come from the direction of the house. Joey started running toward the house and called back, “Come on Alvin; time to eat!”

It took me a moment to recover before I took off after him. Man he could run fast even with a loaded diaper on; my diaper was a little wet and I was having a hard time running; I didn’t know how he was able to go so darn fast. He got to the house a good thirty seconds before I did.

Mom, I stepped through the door just as Joey was saying, “Mommy, I need changed first. I pooped!”

To my horror Mom looked at me and asked, “Alvin do you need changed too?”

Her question shocked me into silence. When I didn’t respond she came over and stuffed her hand down inside the front of my diaper.

“Yes you do.” She said.

My brain was screaming within the confines of my skull, “I WET AGAIN!?” but I was too paralyzed with humiliation and embarrassment to get my mouth to function.

Before I could offer any resistance she took my hand and the two of us followed Beth and Joey up a flight of stairs and into his room. Joey’s room wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Cattycornered between two windows was his twin bed with a blue bedspread and a stuffed green hippopotamus propped against the pillow. Of course the hippo was the very first thing I noticed because it was wearing a bright white disposable diaper. Besides the bed, there was a white dresser with a lamp on top of it and a short stack of shelves filled with books and toys. The one odd item in the room was what appeared to be a brightly colored vinyl table cloth that was spread out over the blue carpeting on the floor. Without being told to do so Joey slipped off his shoes, pulled off his pants and laid himself down on the vinyl mat.

“Come on,” Mom said lifting my left leg and pulling off my shoe.

I didn’t say a word while Mom removed my other shoe and then my pants. I was too busy watching Beth remove the tapes from Joey’s obviously bloated diaper. However, when Beth opened the diaper all three of us gagged at the same time.

“Oh Joey what have you been eating?” His mom teased him.

Joey giggled and said, “Skunk berries!”

Mom guided me down onto the mat while I pulled the front of my shirt up over my mouth and nose to breathe.

When Mom pulled open the front of my diaper Beth made the comment, “Looks like he might be getting a bit of a rash. You should try this.” She then handed what looked to be a tube of toothpaste to my mom. “It will clear up even a bad diaper rash overnight.”

For half a second Joey and I made eye contact. He was grinning ear-to-ear while his mom was cleaning his poop covered, butt.

My own mom seemed to be taking forever to get me into a dry diaper and every second that passed I felt myself growing redder and redder.

And then I felt someone thump my chest. I looked to see that it was Joey.

He was still grinning and asked me, “Why are you so red?”

His mother hushed him for which I was ever so grateful!

When we were both diapered we stood up and I was about to reach for my pants when Joey asked, “Mom can we not have pants since we are at home?”

“Well Alvin might not like that.” She started to say, but Joey grabbed my arm and dragging me out of his room he hollered back to his mother.

“No he doesn’t want pants either.”

“Hey Tiger-fish!” John said when he saw me and I could tell that he noticed right away that I didn’t have on pants.

I quickly went to the table and sat down making sure to scoot my chair up as close to the table as I could in an effort to hide my diaper. Of course Joey sat right next to me.

Once we started eating, I started to calm down a little and by the time we started dessert, I was feeling almost normal again. For dinner we had grilled salmon steaks, corn on the cob, buttered potatoes, and garlic biscuits.

While we were eating it started to rain and by the end of dinner it had worked up to a full out thunderstorm. Since it was raining we couldn’t go back out so Joey and I went to his room where he showed me all of his stuff. Turns out that he was into matchbox cars the same as me, but he had a heck of a lot more of them then I do.

After we had been playing with his cars for a while I got up the courage to ask him why he wore diapers.

“I got kicked by a mule when I was little.” He said.

That sounded painful and I told him so, “Wow I bet that hurt!”

“I don’t remember it,” he said, “but Mom says I almost died and was in the hospital for almost three months.”

He then stood up, turned his back to me and pulled down the back of his diaper several inches to reveal a moon shaped scar just above his left, butt cheek. It was about the size of the palm of my hand.

I regretted bringing up the subject when he asked, “How come you wear diapers?”

After stammering and nearly choking on my own spit, I explained to him about my problem and how I ended up wearing diapers now. He didn’t interrupt me at all and listened very interestedly. When I finished I expected him to begin asking a bunch of questions, but the only question he asked was, “That girl really kissed you like that?”

I chuckled, “Yeah she did!”

“Yuck!!” he exclaimed and stuck out his tongue.

We played until bedtime, which was when our moms came to change us. I was still dry so I didn’t need changed, but that didn’t stop Mom from checking again. Even though I didn’t have on pants and everyone could see clearly that I was dry, Mom still stuck her hand down the front of my diaper. When she turned me around and checked the back I blushed so hard I thought I was going to pass-out. So I was bone dry but not Joey. His mom didn’t need to check him because it was clear by the way his diaper was sagging that he was soaked.

I figured I would be sleeping on the floor of Joey’s room, but his mom produced another bed that slid out from under his regular bed. She called it a trundle bed.

When Joey and I were alone again, after being tucked in, we talked for the longest time.

I don’t know how late it was when John poked his head into the room as said, “Alvin it’s time to get to sleep.”

So the two of us finally closed our mouths and our eyes and went to sleep.


I was awake before Joey, but I quietly laid there until he woke up. It was actually kind of nice to lie there alone with my thoughts. Back in California when I wanted to be alone I would head to the beach, grab a board, paddle out until no one was around and just sit. Let me tell you, you’ve never experienced truly being alone until you are sitting on top of a surf board where you are surrounded by nothing, but water, water, water. Sometimes it was so quiet that I could even hear my own heartbeat.

There was this one time when I had paddled out with Gary fairly late in the day. We had been out for a little while waiting on the tide to bring in some choice waves. When the waves finally started to pick up Gary picked one he liked, but I chose to duck dive under it and wait for a bigger wave. While I watched Gary disappear on the other side of the wave I felt something bump my left foot. Out there it isn’t uncommon for something like that to happen and it was usually just some fish, but on that particular day it wasn’t just some fish, it was a three foot long dolphin. I guess it was in a playful mood because a second later I saw it launch itself out of the backside of a wave. It was one of the coolest things I had ever seen, but then he disappeared, leaving me alone again. The waves seemed to be dying down somewhat and after about ten minutes I was starting to think about heading in when that dolphin returned with four of his buddies. I watched them play and swim all around and under me so long that Gary had got worried and paddled back out. I don’t know why, but I never told Gary about the dolphins. When I saw him coming toward me I began paddling toward him, leaving my new aquatic friends to play alone.

That day was one of the most peaceful days ever. However at Joey’s house it wasn’t that quiet; I could hear the raindrops dancing on the metal roof and something outside was flapping in the wind. It sounded wooden and kind of melodious in a way.

As I laid there thinking my mind drifted back in time once more to before John had lost his job and before Mom started working all the time. Given the events of the last couple days I don’t know why I hadn’t remembered before now, but now I’m able to recall every detail from the night that Mom agreed to watch the children of a neighbor whose wife was going into the hospital to have their fourth child.

It was late, I’m not sure exactly what time it was, but it had already been dark for a while, but I hadn’t yet gone to bed, when our neighbor came pounding on our front door to say that he had to take his wife to the hospital to have the baby and wanted my mom to watch his kids. So we took in their other three children; Sebastian who was 14, Sarah who was 12 and Walter who was 8.

Mom ended up giving my room to Sarah because she said that girls need more privacy then boys. That meant that Sebastian, Walter, and I had to crash on the living room floor which wasn’t all that bad; it was a lot like camping out, but without the bugs.

What made that night really weird was when Sarah had taken her older brother Sebastian to the bathroom with her. I can remember how at the time I had thought how odd it seemed for them to go into the bathroom at the same time, but I suppose I was too young back then to really understand. Shoot, back then I still believed that girls had contagious germs that I could catch if they touched me or anything of mine. When they came back out of the bathroom Sebastian sprinted for his sleeping bag and dove in feet first.

When I think back, I realize that at the time I had completely missed out on the fact that the pajamas he was wearing seemed unusually bulky. Now I can’t help, but to wonder if he, like Joey and I, was put into diapers because of a wetting problem. Then the thought struck me that his sister, his younger sister I might add, must have been the one that diapered him. Oh that thought didn’t sound pleasant to me in the least!

Something that is weird? Back then I was wetting the sheet every night and yet I don’t remember having wet that particular night. At least I don’t remember having woke up in a wet sleeping bag. Maybe I didn’t wet at all because I had been too scared of what Sebastian or Walter might say. Funny how I can remember everything else with such vivid details, but I can’t remember that bit.

I was so caught up reliving that night that I hadn’t noticed Joey was awake.

“Morning!” he groaned and yawned.

“Ah man Joey you scared the life out of me!” I exclaimed in a whispered shout.

I lifted myself up onto one elbow so that I was facing him.

“Sorry, thought you were already awake.” He said.

“I was, but… ah, never mind!” I said followed by, “Good morning.”

“Sounds like it is still raining.” He said rubbing at his eyes however before I could say anything he groaned loudly and said, “Ah man!” and then shouted at the top of his lungs, “MOOOOOOOMMMMM, I LEAKED AGAIN!”

I couldn’t believe he’d shouted it out like that.

“Wait—But—No—Why—You…” I stammered unable to form a complete thought.

“What?” he said with an innocent shrug.

I guess I got over the initial shock because I was finally able to speak.

“Why did you scream like that?” I said feeling betrayed.

He shrugged again. “Because I need changed.”

“But you didn’t need to scream for the entire world to hear!” I said.

“Alright you two!” Beth said as she walked into the room, “You two aren’t fighting are you?”

But before I could respond she added, “Oh my, now that’s what I call a truly red face.”

Well that little comment didn’t help my embarrassment in the least and when she acted like she was going to attempt to change my diaper? Well, let me tell you something, there wasn’t anything in this world that was going to make me lie there while some lady I hadn’t known before yesterday tried to take a diaper off me! Oh no way, no how! You can be sure I wasn’t standing… err… I mean sitting… err… lying for that! I jumped to my feet with the intention of running out of that room so fast all they would see of me was a blur.

Now my getaway would have worked had I not overlooked one small, seeming insignificant fact which was that my left leg was completely asleep from the hip down.

I popped up like a rabbit out of its hole and took a single step before falling flat on my, butt. What made it even worse was when my, butt made contact with the floor, whatever it is they put inside diapers to make them absorbent, came squirting out of the leg opening, and I do mean squirting. Let me put it this way. Have you ever stomped on a frog and seen all its guts shoot out of its mouth and, butt hole? Well even if you haven’t, I’m sure you can imagine just how that would look. Now imagine that same sort of thing, but instead of the frog substitute a very wet diaper and you should understand how it looked when I fell back down.

Joey blasted out with laughter and fell back into his bed. However, his mom wasn’t laughing; no, she wasn’t laughing at all because when the stuff shot out the leg hole of my diaper it sprayed all over her nice satin robe.

Now if my life was a storybook tale right then, my mom or John would have walked into the room to save me from a fatal case of humiliation, but sadly, neither appeared in the doorway.

Joey was still giggling like a hyena hopped up on laughing gas, but his mom wasn’t laughing; she was staring at the globs of gelatinized pee that stuck to her robe like jam on toast.

“I-I’m sorry!” I said, like I had intended for it to happen.

“Joey, stop being a goof!” she finally said.

He flipped himself over on his back and kicked at the air. Except for his insane laughter, he looked just like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“Joooooooooooooey, sssssstttoooooppppppp!” I pleadingly whined.

But he didn’t and before long his mom and I caught his infectious laughter bug.

Joey giggled and kicked, “Alvin you don’t know but that was sooooo funny! Boom—Squish—Splat!”

Beth said, “Alright, I think you two should get baths,” she paused in thought before saying, “I think maybe I will too.”

“Is my mom up yet?” I asked and unable to hide the desperation I was feeling.

That was when Beth informed me that my parents had got up early to go into town.

“They left me?” I whimpered, half scared and half surprised that they would leave me with… well, with a stranger!

“No they didn’t leave you!” She said, “They just wanted to have some time alone. They’ll be back after bit.”

“Can we have a fizzy-plunge in your room?” Joey asked excitedly.

“Well, I don’t see why not!” Beth said.

“What’s a fizzy-plunge?” I asked as I began to try to scoop some of the mess up from the floor using my hands.

“Oh Alvin, let that go! I’ll get the vacuum after it.” Beth said.

Joey then asked me with shear amazement. “You don’t know what a fizzy-plunge is?”

I took mild offence at the tone he used. It was almost as if he was purposefully trying to make me feel bad just because I didn’t know what a fizzy-plunge was. Ok, maybe it wasn’t done on purpose, but it sure felt and sounded that way. Maybe it was because Joey was younger and smaller than me and I felt as though I should know more than him.

Anyway I shot him a look, but before I could think up a halfway decent comeback Beth asked me, “Hasn’t your mother ever let you take a bath with lots of bubbles in the water?”

“Uh, you mean like a bubble bath?” I asked.

“Exactly!” Joey said.

“Well then why didn’t you say bubble bath?” I said shooting another mean look at him.

Thankfully, to save my dignity, Beth first gave me a towel to cover myself with and then she helped me out of my diaper. It was actually a clever way of doing it. I then wrapped the towel around myself and this time stood up more cautiously. This time my leg didn’t buckle under my weight.

The bathtub in the bathroom off of Beth’s bedroom was the biggest bathtub I’d ever seen. It was kind of egg shaped with half a dozen silver looking rings in the bottom. Now I had heard of a Jacuzzi before, but until then I had never actually seen one. So when Beth flipped a switch on the wall and jets of water began erupting from the silver rings I clapped and giggled. Yeah I know it was a stupid reaction, but I was just caught up in the wonder of it.

She then picked up a blue plastic bottle. It wasn’t very big at all; it was about the size of my thumb and she poured the entire contents of the bottle into the water. Almost instantly the jets of water began a frothing action that caused the water to form a heavy layer of suds. Along with the growing suds, the room also became laced with a wonderful vanilla aroma. It smelled so good that my mouth watered.

“Ok,” Beth began, “You two get in. I’ll go get changed and then get breakfast started.”

Before she was even out of the room Joey dropped his towel to the floor which left him naked as the day he was born. I, on the other hand, waited until his mother was completely out of site before lowering my towel.

Joey was the first to climb in, but I didn’t want to run the risk that his mom would come back in, so I quickly followed.

As I stepped into the enormous tub I asked him, “Why do you call it a fizzy-plunge?”, but when I looked over at him he was gone.

“Joey?” I called.

“Come on in! It’s great!” I heard him say with a giggle.

He was completely lost in the suds and I could see why it was called a fizzy-plunge. As I lowered my bottom into the warm water the bubbles quickly rose up and over my head.

“Blow like you are blowing out birthday candles.” Joey said from somewhere amidst the bubble abyss.

“Why?” I asked.

“Just do it!” he said.

So I did and to my amazement the bubbles parted leaving a suds tunnel. I guess Joey had been doing the same thing because I could now see his grinning face.

“See!” he said and blew again to keep the tunnel intact.

“Awesome!” I exclaimed.

“Want to see something else cool?” Joey asked.

“Sure,” I answered.

“Take a deep breath and go under the water and then open your eyes.” He said.

“No way!” I shot back, “The soap will sting my eyes.”

“No it won’t.” He answered gleefully, “It is magic bubbles.”

“Magic bubbles?” I wondered out loud.

“Yeah they don’t make your eyes hurt and you can even taste them.” He said sticking out his tongue and lapping at the bubbles.

Hesitantly I did likewise and was surprised to find that the bubbles tasted just as they smelled. “Mmmmm! Vanilla!”

“Now go under the water and look up through the bubbles.” He said.

This time I didn’t hesitate as I took in a big breath and scooted my bottom so that my head went under the water. There was only one word for what I saw, AMAZING! It was like looking into a kaleidoscope of light. Every bubble was a different color of the rainbow and the colors seemed to blink off and on as one bubble burst and a new one took its place. It was so beautiful that I didn’t want to poke my head back through and disturb the light show, but my lungs were beginning to ache for air.

When I finally lifted my head out of the water I could see that our tunnel was gone. When I tried to take in a breath I sucked in bubbles too. It was like breathing vanilla flavored air; boy was it yummy.

Once we had reformed our tunnel I said, “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“If I could breathe under water I would stay under there and watch them for hours and hours and hours and hours!” Joey said.

“Yeah we need snorkels!” I said.

“What’s a snor-whatever you said?” Joey asked after blowing into the tunnel again.

For half a second I thought about giving him a taste of his own medicine and answering back derogatorily the way he had back in his room before, but I decided against being mean.

Instead I said, “It’s a kind of thing that lets you breath regularly while you are underwater; like a long curved tube that sticks out above the water.”

“You mean like a straw?” Joey asked.

“Not exactly, a straw would be too small. A snorkel is bigger and fatter around like…” I trailed off in thought.

“Like a pipe?” he asked excitedly.

“Yeah I guess that’s a good example.” I answered.

“I’ll be right back!” Joey said and launched himself out of the tub. I stood up to find that the bubbles were up to my chest, but they didn’t seem to be going any higher than that. It was a good thing too because if they did they would probably be all over the bathroom and flowing out into the bedroom.

I was back under the water when Joey returned. I only knew he was back because I heard the underwater splash and saw his legs appear underwater. When I came back up for more air Joey was already talking.

“Wait I was under water. What were you saying?” I asked.

“Oh, I said I think I got something that we can use.” He said and I felt something jabbing me right in the private parts.

“HEY!” I said tensely, “You got me right where it counts.”

That made Joey giggle.

“Oops, sorry!” he said with a chuckle.

I took hold of whatever he was handing me and it felt just like a snorkel however when I stood up and held it above the bubbles I saw that it was a long piece of yellow plastic tubing that was flexible.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It is part of my Matchbox race track. It is for making loop-dee-loops and other cool things like that.” He said.

“Oh cool! Let me try it.” I said and quickly dunked my head back under the water with one end of the tube in my mouth and the other end sticking straight up. It worked perfectly. I was able to breathe normally and could see the amazing lightshow for as long as I wanted.

When I reemerged I told him how well it worked and he begged for the tube back so that he could try. He was under the water a really long time, but I knew he was ok because I could hear him breathing through the tube. It sounded kind of like Darth Vader from the Star Wars movies only deeper with a little bit of an echo sound.

Then he surprised me by talking through the tube. “Al’in I’ you can hear 'e wiggle your toes.”

It was amazing how well I could understand him although his voice sounded weird. I wiggled my toes like he said and I could hear him giggling through the tube. I then stuck my hand under the water and motioned for him to come up.

“I don’ wan’ 'oo.” Was his response.

I made a fist and shook it at him under the water. He giggled through the tube even more.

He finally did come back up and gave me another turn with the tube. We took turns breathing through the tube until his mom came back into the bathroom and announced that breakfast was ready.

“Ah Mommy! Five more minutes okay?” Joey pleaded.

“No, not five more minutes!” She said, but not angry or anything.

“Pleeeeeaaase!” I added.

“Come on you two, before your breakfast gets cold.” She said.

“What are we having?” I asked.

“Texas-Toast, walnut syrup, and peppered ham steaks.” She said while helping Joey out of the tub.

“Oh look at you, you’re all pruned!” she teased him.

I guess I forgot to be embarrassed for half a minute because I climbed out of the tub and was standing there before it hit me that I was, butt naked. It struck me at that very second that it hadn’t bothered me in the least bit to run around the beaches, butt naked for anyone and everyone to see; so why was I acting all embarrassed in front of Joey’s mom? And just like that I stopped, however the diapering thing was still a tough one to get through. To be honest, I wanted to protest getting diapered but something about Beth made me feel like protesting wasn’t something she would tolerate. So reluctantly I surrendered and let her put one on me. Through the whole thing, I was tense and feeling a desperate panic that took all my ability to keep from getting out of control. However, once she had the two of us re-diapered, I was as mellow as a jellyfish!

Breakfast was really good and I found out that Texas-Toast is a lot like French-Toast only the bread is about twice as thick and really filling. The walnut syrup was good too, but I still prefer the good old maple kind. I didn’t much care for peppered ham; I ate it because I didn’t want to be impolite, but it didn’t taste anything like I thought ham should taste. I’m guessing that my belly wasn’t too keen on it either, because for the rest of that day I had pepper and ham scented farts that burned for several seconds after each fart. Joey said that pickles do that to him.

Mom and John were gone a lot longer than I thought they should have been. When they returned the two of them were hugging all over each other and acting all lovey-dovey. It was gross, but at the same time I guess it was good because they hadn’t been like that back in Chula-Vista, California.

When it was time to leave Joey got all bummed out and teary-eyed. He said he didn’t want me to go and I guess part of me didn’t want to go either. I mean it was the first time I ever got to see how it felt to have a little brother and well, it was pretty cool. Beth invited us to come back to visit anytime and I hope we do.

I guess all three of us were getting sick of always being on the road. I can’t speak for Mom and John, but I for one was starting to look forward to finally getting to Lewiston, Maine. Uh, did I just say I was looking forward to Maine? I must be getting loopy in the head.

Anyway, we drove for a very long time. I don’t know just how long, but it was nearly dark out when we stopped just outside of Montpelier, Vermont. Mom and John both said that they were too tired to continue driving and that we’d make it to grandma’s house the next day.

When Mom climbed into the backseat to change my diaper for the night she commented on how wet I was. She even let me feel how heavy the diaper was; it was pretty heavy too. I didn’t put up any fuss at all about getting re-diapered that night. I was just glad to be out of that wet diaper finally. I also didn’t tell Mom How upset it was making me that I was wetting and not knowing I was doing it. It was really, really, bothering me.


The following morning John offered to change my soaking wet diaper while Mom was in the ladies room. I managed to work up the nerve to ask him if I could go without a diaper now.

My reasoning was, “I don’t want grandma to see me like this.”

I said it in a soft, yet earnest whisper.

Since leaving California the rules of what I considered ‘normal life’ had been thrown out the window and I had been forced to learn to live by the rules of the road as Mom and John came up with them. On the road they had come up with the rule that I had to be in diapers day or night. Okay, that one threw me for a loop at first, but I had learned (for the most part) to live according to that rule. But we were nearing the end of the road trip, and I was hoping that at the end, the rules of the road would be abandoned for the older California rules. So why then was I so surprised when John offered a compromise?

“It’s only a few more hours until we get there. I’ll stop before we get into town so that you can put on regular underwear again. How’s that sound?”

I beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“Good!” he added as he zipped up my pants for me.

I should have known that John would once again let me down by not keeping up his end of the bargain.

We hadn’t been back on the road even an hour before we had a tire blow-out. It was loud which made both Mom and me scream as the car swerved and skidded nearly out of control. It was the right, front passenger tire that blew and bits of tire flew up past the passenger side windows as John attempted to get our car off the highway and onto the shoulder of the road.

Scary isn’t a strong enough word for those few seconds that it took John to get the car stopped. The car shook and swerved and some stupid jerk had the nerve to blow his horn at us as if John was purposefully driving so erratically.

Once the car was stopped, John asked, “Everyone alright?”

“Yeah I’m good,” I spoke up, “but can we not do that again?”

John and Mom got out, but I was told to stay in the car. I did as I’d been told, however I rolled the window down so that I could stick my head out to see how bad it was. It was bad … really bad! Not only was the tire thrashed to bits, so was the front fender. It looked like a large piece of the tire must have been flapping as the wheel turned. It had laid waste to our fender, tearing through the metal as if it had been nothing more than aluminum foil.

Now what was cool was what happened next. While mom and John were looking at the damage, this enormous man on this loud chopper pulled up behind us. When he got off his motorcycle I was struck with awe at just how big that man was. I’d seen lots of bodybuilders on the beach and they were big, but next to this bad biker dude they would have looked like scrawny wimps!

“That was a fancy bit of driving back there mate!” the mountainous man said to John, “Thought for sure you were Dingo bait.”

When he spoke he talked with an Australian accent, however his extremely deep voice mottled it a bit.

When John responded I could hear the fear in his voice as that man, who had to be at least seven foot tall, walked up to him and mom. “Uh, yeah well, I think we had a flat.”

“He thinks?” I thought to myself.

“I’d say!” the man said. “You done a real dagger to your fender!”

“Dagger?” I asked.

“Alvin get back in the car!” Mom said while pushing on my head until it was all the way back inside.

“Fine looking ankle-biter you got there mam. Names Doug, Doug Blisken, but most just call me Dog.” He said thrusting his hand out for John to shake.

I noticed right away that his knuckles were tattooed with a single letter on each finger; they spelled out K-I-L-L.

“I’m John and this is my wife, Melody.” John said shaking the Dog’s hand.

I caught a glimpse of the back of Dog’s leather jacket and seen that it said, “Hell’s Angels” with a big flaming skull in the middle.

“Oh that’s not good!” I mumbled to myself.

A year or two back there was a big problem when a bunch of Hells Angel’s bikers came through Chula-Vista. There was some trouble with the police and several of the bikers had been arrested for driving their motorcycles on the beach.

“G’day cobber.” He said and then asked, “Don’t suppose you have a spare?”

When Mom told him we did Dog then said, “Well then little miss, she’ll be Apples.”

“I’m Sorry?” Mom asked him.

“Oh sorry,” Dog said pulling the black bandana off his head, “sometimes forget myself. Uh, what I meant was that everything will be all right.”

Unfortunately the spare tire was buried beneath all of our stuff so John and Dog had to take everything out to get to it.

“Oy, ya got a Joey do ya?” I heard dog ask.

For half a second I thought maybe Joey had stowed away in the back of our car, but then I heard John ask, “What’s a Joey?”

Dog answered with, “Ya know, a wee one, a baby.”

“Oh no, those are for our son.” John replied and I knew instantly that Dog had seen the package of diapers.

“Ah I get it. Young fella’s got a leaky donger does he?” Dog didn’t need to translate that one for us.

I slunk down in the seat and tried to hide my face. When they finally got the tire out Dog said, “Ah, there you are ya little beauty!” and it didn’t take them long to get the tire changed.

“Ah, have a gander at that mate!” Dog said holding the shredded wheel up.

At hearing that, I sat back up and looked out the car window. I saw for myself that the rim of the tire was missing a large piece of the metal on the inside part.

“Well that’s not good.” John said with half a laugh.

“Bit of a nasty like that, you’re lucky you didn’t have a real gutzer … uh … accident!” Dog explained.

When John tried to offer Dog some money for his help, Dog pushed it away saying, “Nah, I don’t have any use for that. Just being neighborly is all.”

I hadn’t noticed until we were ready to go that while Dog and John were changing the tire, Mom had loaded all of our stuff back into the car.

“If you don’t mind my asking, you don’t seem the type to belong to a motorcycle gang.” John said to Dog.

“What this old thing?” Dog said talking about his Hells Angels jacket. “Belongs to a mate a mine. Just holding it for him.”

“You have got a wonderful accent.” Mom said.

I chimed in with, “You’re from Australia aren’t you?”

“Right you are lil’ roo.” Dog said giving me a smile and I remember thinking that he didn’t look so scary when he smiled.

“So what brought you all the way over here?” Mom asked.

“Had my fill of the Never Never… uh, sorry, I mean back home.” Dog dropped his head as he continued, “You see, I had me a matching set of rug rats much like yours, but they and their mum went up early.”

He didn’t have to translate that. All three of us knew just by the look on his face that he meant his family had gone to heaven.

John offered his condolences, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

And Mom added, “Oh that’s terrible.”

“Felt like I needed to go walkabout; so came to see what all the fuss was o’er here.” Dog said while wiping at his brow.

“How long have you been in the states?” Mom asked him.

“Let’s see,” Dog must have been thinking because it took him a full half minute before he answered, “Must be getting on to four years now.”

John and Mom thanked Dog profusely and try as they might they couldn’t get Dog to agree to any compensation, not even a meal on us. After he rode away on his chopper we got back on the road.

I guess I must have fallen asleep or something because the next thing I remember, Mom was exclaiming excitedly, “Alvin—Alvin look!”

I sat forward resting my elbows on the backrest of the front seat and seen the sign that read, Welcome to Maine.

“We’re here!” John announced.

“Don’t forget your promise!” I reminded John.

“What promise?” Mom asked.

“He doesn’t want to walk into his grandmothers wearing a diaper.” John told her.

“Oh Alvin!” Mom sighed, “She already knows you wet your sheets.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wet during the day time!” I protested.

“Sit back and put your belt back on!” She said sharply while reaching to turn the car radio on.

When we’d gone about another fifteen minutes I again spoke up, but all I said was a whiney, “Joooohhhhhnnnn?”

After a while longer I gave up on them and quietly slipped my pants off, pulled the diaper down like underwear and then pulled my pants back up. Of course I’d been wearing a pair of pants that the Doleshires had given me and without a diaper on they were huge on me. And I’d have to remember that since I didn’t have a belt on, I’d have to keep hold of my pants so that they didn’t fall off.

I sat back there feeling a little smug and proud of myself for pulling that off, no pun intended, without getting caught. It wasn’t until after we arrived that it struck me that I probably should have attempted to hide the diaper and not leave it lying on the floor of the car.

When we arrived in Lewiston Maine, it took us another thirty minutes to find the house and when we did I was flabbergasted by the shear enormity of their home. I don’t remember their house being so big, but apparently it was.

“Alvin I want you on your best behavior. Don’t give your grandparents any grief!” Mom warned.

“What?” I objected. I felt that was uncalled for.

“Alvin, just do what your mother tells you!” John said as he pulled the car to a stop.

From the second I stepped foot out of the car I knew I wasn’t going to like living here in Lewiston Maine, because, as I lowered my foot out the door I stepped right into a mud puddle.

“Ah man that’s just great!” I murmured to myself, “Thanks for the warm and cheerful welcome Lewiston!”

~ The End ~

If you have enjoyed this book then please let me know. You can email me at

And be sure to check out my other books…

Simon’s Journal – Ever read someone’s secret diary? Well here is your chance to read the private journal of a young boy named Simon David Leonard. Simon is just a mild American boy…that is until someone threatens his friends or family, then watch out! He has a secret problem which to him feels all consuming. When he decided to go in search for others who share the same secret problem, he sets off a series of events that will change his life, and the lives of those he encounters, forever. As you lose yourself within the pages of his four volume journal, you will laugh, cry, scream, and cheer your way through adventures that will take you halfway around the world and back again.

(Nifty Archive: young-friends/simons-journal)

Goodbye Normal Jeans – Meet Nevada, the middle child of a country families seven children. Nevada, prematurely born, lives the life of a simple country boy. His biggest concerns in life are dealing with his physical inadequacies related to his early birth, and making sure the pigs don’t get loose. All of that changes when it is discovered that Nevada is exceptionally intelligent and is awarded a scholarship to a prestigious school for gifted young minds. There he must learn new ways of coping with his bodies limitations while trying to cope with life back on the farm.

(Nifty Archive: young-friends/goodbye-normal-jeans)

And be sure to keep a watchful eye out for Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second coming soon!

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

as always

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

:slight_smile: Thanks Danny for posting Alvin here!!! Of course being a great fan of yours I read it when you first released it and I enjoyed reading it this time as I did the first time around on another site. I look forward to reading more instalments so please keep them coming!!!. Again Thanks Danny for your hard work and dedication to your stories!!! ;D

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

Thank you JD, dlsmd and doubledbbw. I am glad everyone is enjoying it! I did some updating and fixed a serious continuity error (which meant adding a day to their journey) and added a bit of spice (which I wanted to put in the first time but didn’t due to the restrictions of the previous site I posted on).

This Alvin series is near and dear to my heart and I’m glad to know others love it just as much as I do, maybe even more so!

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

Danny I took the time to read the edited (new) version of Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First and I really enjoyed the changes. The trip to the Grand Canyon and Meeting Kyle Nevada’s brother were great additions. I grew up in southern California up to age 9 except for the 3 years I was in Hawaii and remember So Cal pretty well. I was never a surfing kind of kid my dad was Marine stationed there in Santa Ana. I like Alvin was a bed (sheet) wetter too and we didn’t call it sheet wetting though. It was referred to wetting the bed and my parents made sure that I was well padded so the sheets didn’t get wet that much. Well again thanks for your hard work and I can’t wait for the next chapter!!! :slight_smile:

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

Thanks doubledbbw, Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second is 2/3’s re-edited. I hope to have it online before the end of the month!

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

Wow! I remember reading this story YEARS ago! It wasn’t too long after I first discovered that I wasn’t the only person who had a desire to wear diapers that I came across your stories. I was 12 when that happened (I’m 19 now), but I don’t know if that adds up with the date you released the stories the first time. I just loved this trilogy and was saddened when you had them taken down. If I ever find time in my busy schedule, I’ll give these bad boys a read. It’ll be nostalgic; just reading the first few paragraphs was. Thanks for the re-edits and posting!

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

its actualy a quadrilogy

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

Thanks for the complements everyone! I really appreciate how much everyone loves this series and I should have book 3 posted here to the ABDL Story Forum soon. I just need a bit of time to get over this bug that has my head filled with fog!

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the First

Alvin Ever After is now, and will always be one of my favorite stories I have wrote. I guess they all have a special place in my heart but this one in particular… I really love that kid!