Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

[b]Alvin Ever After:

Alvin in the Second

A novel by Danny[/b]


Hello, my name is Alvin Holloway and what you are about to read is just a small excerpt from my life here in Lewiston, Maine. You see, up until recently I lived with my parents, John and Melody in the glorious town of Chula Vista, California. However, when John (that’s my father) had lost his job, he sunk into a deep depression and began drinking… a lot. To keep us from ending up on the street, my Mom had to take two jobs waiting tables, but it all got to be too much for both of them. Therefore, when my grandparents offered to pay for us to move east to Lewiston, Maine; my parents jumped at the chance for a new beginning without consulting me at all.

Back in Chula Vista, right up to the point where John had lost his job, I had for the most part, lived the life of a California prince. Yeah, I know I’m being overly dramatic and romanticizing it to some extent; then again, these are the accounts of my life and I can tell them anyway I darn well feel! So deal with it!

Sorry, I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent there. Now, what was I saying? Oh yes, I lived the life of a prince in Chula Vista. I had several really good friends, teachers that liked me and best of all, the ocean was my playground. For the past two years, I’d won the Junior Surfing Competition and I was the odds on favorite, to become the youngest surfer, to ever hold the teen championship title. However, that dream was snatched away from me when my parents forced me to leave California.

Allow me to interrupt myself again, so that I might share a little fact I picked up on since we moved here. Did you know that many of Steven King’s novels are set in the state of Maine? And, in case you’ve never read one of his books, let me tell you that most of them center on someone or something killing younger people!!! Okay, sorry, but I just had to point that out and now I will get back to what I was saying.

Something had occurred during our trip across the country that had a profound impact on how my life has played out here in Lewiston, Maine. You see, I have a problem with wetting my sheets at night. I’m sure you can guess that sleeping in our car for a week and a half, with someone who wets the sheet at night, wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience for my parents. John was seemingly unreservedly vocal about it.

Through a series of events, we had ended up as overnight guests of a really nice African-American family in Ohio. There, my mother had put me back into diapers for the first time since being potty-trained. Okay, that isn’t exactly how it happened. Saying it like that makes it sound like she had forced me to wear them. But in fact, what she did was much more devious; she tricked me into trying on a diaper and once I was in it, she made me sleep in it. Of course, the inevitable happened that night; however, to my surprise, when I woke up the following morning, I found that my bedding and pajamas were completely dry!

Much to my horror, my parents decided, they liked the idea of me in diapers and I suppose, I have to admit that waking up in a wet diaper beats waking up with wet sheets. However, the part that I didn’t like was the fact that for the remainder of our trip, John and my mom kept me in diapers day and night. That’s right; they gave me no choice, but to wear them all stinking day long, so that we would not have to make as many stops for me to go to the bathroom. At least, that was the excuse they gave me. And what really bothered me most was the fact that I’d started wetting those dang diapers during the day time too with no idea I was doing it. It happened so easily that it disturbed me to no end!

Someone once asked me why my parents made me wear them during the daytime when I had never had a daytime wetting problem. I wish I could answer that but frankly I do not know the answer to that. However I can tell you why they keep me in them 24/7 now… because I’ve been wearing them so much that I’ve developed a real need for them. As much as I utterly detest them, I’m actually a bit scared to go without one. I mean what if I am out in public and have an accident? Everyone would see and I’d never live that down!

Putting the whole thing with the diapers aside, there were some cool things that happened while we were on the road. I got to meet a lot of nice people, including the African-American family I mentioned before. They are the Doleshire’s and live in West Dayton, which is kind of down in the southwest part of Ohio not too far from the Great Miami River. Mr. and Mrs. Doleshire have a grand total of eight children, seven boys and just one daughter, who was about my age. It was their daughter Jacquelyn, which I became instant friends with and to this very day, she is still my friend. We write back and forth all the time and I even got to talk to her on the phone once. There is more to tell about Jacquelyn, but I’ll save that for later.

Jacquelyn wasn’t the only lasting friend that I made during our journey. You see, because of the diapers, I had the chance to meet another boy a few years younger than me, who also wears diapers. His name is Joey and despite the fact that he and his mom live in Canada, the two of us have remained friends through letters and postcards. Once I got settled into school, I discovered that there were computers in the library that I could use to send Joey emails. That made keeping in touch so much easier for the two of us.

Though Joey is younger than me, we have quite a lot in common, with the most obvious being that we have problems with wetting our sheets. Now, unlike me, he had been wearing diapers for ever and ever… so long that I said ever twice!

Ha! Ha! Sorry, I heard that ‘ever and ever’ line on television and have been dying for a chance to use it!

Back to what I was saying. Joey doesn’t just wear diapers at night, but during the daytime too. Whereas I have only been wearing them a relatively short time and up until recently only ever had night time wetting issues.

Life in Maine is nothing like life was in California. For one thing, it is always cold here. Back on the West Coast, what we called a cold winter day, is what the people in Maine call a typical summer day. I mean, for the love of Pete, I’ve been walking around with a runny nose and a scratchy throat since stepping foot in this retched state. Heck, I can’t even go for a short walk around the block without putting on a wool sweater or a jacket. You can be sure that I’ll never run around butt naked in Maine, the way I sometimes did in California! Man, I just want to go back home!!!

My parents on the other hand, have fallen head-over-heels in love with this half-frozen suburb of hell! They love the city, the state, and all the people. My mother forbid me from ever saying again that this city, state, and all the people that live here both suck and blow at the same time! Of course I still say it, just not when my parents or grandparents are around.

John is working again and he stopped drinking too. So, I guess, those are two really good things. However, I honestly believe, that if he could have got a good job in Southern California, he would have done just as good as he is doing here. Then again, that is why we are here. Around where we lived, if you weren’t of Mexican descent, the best paying job you could hope for would be a minimum-wage job with part-time hours. I don’t know if that is true or not, but that is, what John always used to say.

John’s now working in my grandparents’ seafood restaurant. I’m not exactly sure what it is he’s doing there, but he seems to be thriving at it.

My mom is also working in the restaurant, but she’s not waiting tables anymore like she was in California. Now she’s helping with their books and managing their many employees.

As for me? I have yet to find anything here that I like. Then again, maybe you have already figured that out. From the first second after we arrived here, my life has managed to sink lower than any submarine has ever been. When we pulled up in front of my grandparent’s home, I actually got somewhat excited, but that only lasted a feeble instant. You see, besides owning their own restaurant, my grandparents also own a decent sized fleet of crab and lobster boats and let me tell you, there is serious money to be made, fishing for shell fish. Yeah, my grandparents are loaded, but that doesn’t necessarily translate to meaning, that my parents and I are loaded now too. I wish it did, but it doesn’t.

For now, my grandparents are allowing us to live with them until Mom and John, can save up enough money to get us a place of our own. My grandparents are nice enough, but they are also strict and firm believers in the old school teachings; that children should not be seen or heard. Therefore, when I’m home, I spend nearly all of my spare time in the room they put me in, except for when I’m allowed to go outside to play. The room is nice and it’s bigger than my room had been back in Chula-Vista. Oh and the furnishings are much, much, much nicer than what I had. However, the room is always chilly and the bed is so big and soft that, when I get into it, I have a great deal of difficulty getting back out again."

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 2

When John had stopped the car in front of my grandparents’ home, I started to get out. However, instead of stepping onto solid pavement or a concrete curb, I stepped right into a puddle of water. Cold Water flooded into my shoe soaking my sock and freezing my toes.

“Ah crap; that’s just great!” I complained loudly and got popped upside the ear by John.

“Hey, what was that for?” I complained even louder.

“Watch your mouth!” John warned, “You’re grandparents won’t put up with any of that kind of language, so I’d suggest you wipe all words like it from your mind this instant!”

I shot him a nasty look and thankfully, he hadn’t seen when I stuck my tongue out at him and then murmured to myself, “Thanks for the warm and cheerful welcome Lewiston!”

Mom came around the car and I guess she was excited or something, because she had forgotten to whisper. Either that or she purposefully wanted to embarrass the heck out of me.

“Alvin, do you want me to change your diaper before we go inside?”

“Moooooom!” I whined and looked around to make sure, no one had heard or were looking to see, whom she was talking to.

Thankfully, the only other person I saw was in a passing car, with the windows all rolled up. Actually, I didn’t need a diaper change because I wasn’t wearing one. However, neither of my parents knew that I’d removed my wet diaper on my own. As we were nearing the end of our road trip, I had struck a deal with John, that he would stop before we arrived at my grandparents and let me put back on regular underwear. However, John had gone back on his word and thus, I had to take matters into my own hands. Sitting in the back seat, I had quietly pulled off my pants, removed the diaper, which had been very wet, and then pulled my pants back on without them being any the wiser.

“What,” Mom asked innocently?

“Do you have to say it so loud?” I asked with a self-conscious moan.

Thankfully, the front door to my grandparent’s home swung open and that ended the whole diaper subject… or so I thought.

Now, you need to remember, that I said my grandparents are strict; you do remember me telling you that, right? Well, I wasn’t even inside the front door, when I was being ordered to take off my shoes and socks by my grandfather. I had just lifted my foot to step over the threshold, when he had reached out and placed a hand over my heart to stop me from entering.

“You’ll get water all over the tile boy! Off with those shoes and be quick about it. What-What!” He grumped.

He almost always ends what he is saying with ‘What-What’. I’ve no idea what it means, but it seems to have an infinite amount of uses.

Oh yeah and I’m not Alvin anymore—at least not according to my grandfather. Not once since we arrived, has he called me by name; it’s either ‘boy’ or ‘you there’ and worse yet, ‘that one’! And let me tell you that I’m getting sick of it too.

You know something else that was weird? They didn’t hug us when we arrived. They hadn’t seen any of us in ages, so you would think that they would be glad to see us, but we didn’t even get a welcoming smile. The only greeting I got was, when I was told to take off my shoes and socks and then, my grandmother showed me to the room I’d be staying in.

Upon entering the room, my grandmother promptly took hold of my shoulders, leaned down, placed her ruby-red lips next to my left ear and asked in more of a horsed tone then a whisper, “I suppose, you’re still peeing the bed every night?”

I was a little taken aback by her abrupt nature concerning such a sensitive subject, but before I could reply, she pulled back only a few inches, flicked my chin with her overly long, manicured nails and said, “Want to know a secret?”

Her smile, at least I think it was a smile, was kind of creepy and as she stroked the side of my face with her nail, I felt goose bumps forming on my arms.

She spoke again and I noticed that her breath smelled of liquor and coffee. “Your Grandfather used to pee the bed when he was little, just like you.”

Talk about taking the wind out of my sails. I was honestly stunned and totally without words. I was shaken to my core at the thought that my grandfather, her husband, had been a sheet-wetter just like me and I was equally horrified at knowing that about him.

She leaned close again, sniffed the air around me and took hold of my ear to inspect behind it. After making a disapproving ticking sound with her tongue against her teeth, she then inspected my fingernails.

“How about if I show you, where you can wash up?” she said with that same creepy smile.

She then crossed the room to open a pair of beautifully carved oak doors, revealing a large white marbled bathroom. Never in my life had I seen a bathroom like that one. White marble tiles adorned the floor and walls. Along the right side of the bathroom was a long white marble slab, which sat atop a magnificent white cabinet. The fixtures were all gold tones, with black accents and they matched perfectly with the bathtub and shower faucet. Yes, that is right; there was a bathtub and a shower in the same bathroom. The bathtub reminded me of the one, which Joey and I had played in, in his mother’s bathroom back in Canada, except this one was about half as big again and it was at floor level. At first I didn’t see, how someone could get in without jumping or dropping into the tub, but then I saw, that opposite the faucet were three small steps that lead down into the tub. The shower has glass on three sides, with the back being a solid slab of white marble.

While I was gaping at the wonders of the bathroom, Grandmother had pulled a white towel and washcloth out from under the sink cabinet.

“You would do well to clean up after your long journey.” She said, depositing the towel and washcloth in my arms.

“You can dispose of your soiled clothing in there.” Grandmother pointed to a door flap at the far end of the sink cabinet. With that, she smiled that creepy smile again and left me standing alone in that… that… palace!

At first, I didn’t do anything. I suppose, I was in a state of shock and wonder, but I quickly snapped out of it and dropped the towel on the counter beside the sink, so that I could get undressed.

I had just pulled my shirt over my head, when I heard the double doors to the bathroom open again. I quickly pulled my shirt back down, thinking that my grandmother had returned; however it turned out to be my mom.

“Mom, you scared the life out of me!” I said, grabbing hold of the marble counter for support.

Then I saw, that she looked upset and was holding a sopping wet diaper. I guessed right, that it was the one I had taken off in the car, just before we had arrived.

“Want to explain this?” she asked while holding it out to be sure I had noticed it.

Oddly, my first thought was that she was asking why it was wet, which was really dumb of me. I mean I could tell her right when I had soaked it. We’d had a flat tire and when it blew out it had startled me and basically scared the pee right out of me. But of course she wasn’t asking that at all she was asking why she found it stuffed under the seat in our car.

We commenced to argue for the next ten minutes or so. I tried to make her see, that I didn’t need to wear diapers during the daytime, especially now that we were here. She on the other hand kept saying that I was only a boy and that she would tell me what I do and do not need. She also seemed repulsed by the idea that I had left a wet diaper stuffed under the seat of our car.

The argument got pretty heated and came to a boil when I shouted, “I liked you better when we lived in California!”

And then I said it! The words came out and there was nothing I could do to shove them back down my throat.

I was so mad, so worked up and I screamed at her, “I HATE YOU NOW!”

What Mom did next tore my beating heart right from my chest. She didn’t yell back, she didn’t hit me or punish me. She simply looked at me with glassy eyes, dropped the diaper onto the polished white marble floor and walked away.

“Mom wait! Mom, please! Mom, I’m sorry!” I said, as she turned away, but she didn’t stop.

Leaping over the wet diaper on the floor, I ran out of the bathroom after her.

“Mom, I didn’t mean it! I am…”

The door to the bedroom closed behind her and I fell to the bedroom floor crying.

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 3

I don’t know how long I sat there bawling my eyes out, but it felt like a long time. Eventually, the door to my room opened again and for a brief moment I had hoped it would be her. Sadly it was John who walked in.

“Hey there.” He said timidly.

When I didn’t respond, he closed the door and continued talking. “Your mother is pretty upset.”

“I tried to tell her I was sorry.” I began to cry harder, “I didn’t mean it!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes saying you’re sorry isn’t enough.” John said definitively, but somberly.

I looked up at him. He was standing directly above me, peering down on me.

“W-w-what am I supposed to do then?” I blubbered.

“Son, I really don’t know.” John said honestly, “But for starters, I think you should do as your grandmother asked and get washed up.”

I watched in disbelief as he too turned his back on me, walked out of the room, and closed the door behind him. Again I was left alone feeling unequivocally despondent. Sobbing heavily, I managed to get myself back into the bathroom and as I walked in I saw that wet diaper and kicked it. I had expected it to go flying across the room but instead my bare toes sank into the goopy mess almost like the diaper was trying to eat my foot. Shaking it off I stepped over it and acted like it wasn’t even there as I started to strip off my clothes. I remembered Grandmother telling me to put them inside the door flap and when I did, they vanished down a long rectangular metal tube. I assumed that it was a laundry chute; at least I hoped that is what it was.

I decided that I would take a shower and ended up being scalded, because I didn’t know how to operate the shower faucet.

When the hot water burned into my flesh I screamed something like, “Holy loving chum buckets from hell!”

I slammed my body in the corner of the shower in an attempt to hide from the falling drops of lava. I was pressing myself so tightly against the wall that I am sure the grout lines were being imprinted in the flesh of my hindquarters. I stayed like that until I managed to figure out, that I needed to not only turn the single control, but also push it upward, to obtain a much more tolerable water temperature.

By the time I was done showering I had, for the most part, stopped crying. However, was still feeling miserable for what I had said to my mom. As I dried myself off, I decided, that I would go in search of her to apologize again.

Sufficiently dry, I dropped the washcloth and towel into, what I was now more or less sure was, the laundry chute. Once I had returned to the bedroom, I made a very startling discovery. I had no clothes to put on!

“Ah Alvin, you idiot!” I verbally reprimanded myself, as it struck me, that I should have at least held onto the towel until I found something to cover my nudity!

In the bedroom, there is this very large arch top armoire and since there didn’t seem to be anywhere else to look, I opened the single wide arched door with hopes, that I might find a bathrobe or something else to wear.

The interior of the armoire was divided into four equal sections on the left side by three wooden shelves. On the right side was a long section for hanging clothes. There were several fancy wooden hangers on the clothes rod, but no bathrobe. In fact, there wasn’t a single item of clothing in the roomy armoire; however, it was by no means empty! On the top shelf, which was beyond my reach, were six, apparently unopened, blue packages that said GoodNites on the side. My heart began to race at the thought that my grandparents had prepared for my arrival by purchasing those for me. What got me was the number of packages. I mean, did they really think I wet that much?

However, the six packages of GoodNites on the top shelf were not all that was inside the armoire. The next shelf down was empty, but the third shelf from the top wasn’t empty. It had been cram packed with stacks of, what I could only guess were GoodNites, seeing how they were already out of their packages. A bit more than a week ago, I probably wouldn’t have guessed that they were GoodNites, but things are different now; I’m different too.

As I stood there staring at all those GoodNites, I think my heart stopped beating. Then I spotted something residing at the very bottom of the armoire. Below all those GoodNites was, what appeared to be, a large green thermos. No kidding, it looked like someone had left me a family sized green thermos and by the look of it, I was guessing it could hold at least three gallons of bug juice. I eventually figured out, that it wasn’t a thermos at all, but a container for disposing of used diapers; or in this case, used GoodNites.

Okay, curiosity got the better of me and I just had to figure out why there was a big thermos inside a cabinet filled with scores upon scores of GoodNites. I dragged the container out of the armoire and quickly figured out, what it really was and it sure wasn’t a thermos. Once I figured out what it was for and how it worked, I actually found the big green container down right cool. I’m talking like brand new surf board cool here! You see, when you have a wet diaper, you roll it into a ball like the one I’d seen John do when we were on the road. First you lift the clear plastic lid from the top, drop the rolled up diaper in, close the lid, give it half a turn clockwise and the diaper is sealed inside a white plastic bag, so that the smells can’t get out. Epically cool, huh? You know something? I bet the next thing they come up with, will be self-cleaning diapers!

Once my curiosity had been satisfied, I returned the… at the time I didn’t know what to call it, so I just called it the big green thermos, but later I took to calling it the diaper pail. Anyway, I returned the diaper pail to the bottom of the armoire and just stood there butt naked, staring at all those GoodNites. It simply baffled me why there were so many of them. I mean, there is no way that I could use that many GoodNites in my lifetime. Okay, so I am exaggerating a bit here, but come on! There were just so many! How else was I supposed to react to such a find, than complete dismaying?

When the shock of the find had, for the most part, worn off, I returned to my original idea that I needed something to wear, so that I could go find my mom and apologize properly.

For the briefest of moments, and I’m talking nanoseconds here, the thought flashed in my mind, that I could try to put on one of the GoodNites. At least wearing a diaper, I wouldn’t be naked anymore and then I could go find my clothes or something else to wear. However, no sooner had the thought occurred then it was immediately expelled from my mind.

Then something else occurred to me. The diaper that Mom had dropped on the bathroom floor was still lying on the bathroom floor.

I raced back to the bathroom only to find that when the diaper fell it had been so bloated that it had burst and this gross jelly like substance had spilled out. I did my best to clean up the jelly using the diaper without actually touching the gross stuff. I then carefully crumpled diaper so as not to spill any more of the jelly and returned to the open armoire. It was cold now; very cold and felt weird in my hands. Sort of like holding a water balloon, while at the same time nothing like a water balloon. In some kind of perverted way, I enjoyed wadding the diaper into a sad resemblance of a ball, so that I could drop it into the big green diaper pail. Something totally awesome happened when I closed the clear plastic lid and gave it a quarter turn clock wise. The container made a sort of soft humming sound and I heard a sound, I can only compare to the sound of opening a brand new bag of potato chips. When the container had gone quiet again, I lifted the clear lid and looked down inside, but I couldn’t tell what had made the sound. Later I found out that, what I had heard was the container automatically sealing the plastic around the used diaper, so that when the container was emptied, the contents resembled a chain of diaper balls, linked together like spherical sausages.

Maybe I am just simple minded, but I found the diaper pail completely fascinating. I get a kick out of the way it seals each diaper.

So there I was, once again, staring at the endless bounty of GoodNites, when I realized just how stupid I really am!

“Oh my goodness Alvin!” I said angrily to myself, “Why don’t you just get another towel out of the bathroom vanity cabinet?” For good measure, I thumped myself in the forehead for being so dumb! And I wasn’t gentle about it at all. I honestly made myself see stars.

For the record, I found plenty of fresh, fluffy, white towels, washcloths and hand towels under the sink. I tell you that if I didn’t have rocks for brains, I wouldn’t have brains at all.

The towel was big enough, that I was able to wrap it around my waist three times before tucking it in. And, as I was leaving the bathroom again, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair looked like I’d combed it with an eggbeater and I had a stupid expression on my face.

I pointed at my reflection and said, “You have got to get it together, or you’ll never survive here Surfer Boy! Now pull it together or I’ll kick your sorry, surf loving butt all the way back to Chula Vista! You hear me?”

My reflection respectfully and humbly nodded back to me.

“Good! Now do something about your hair! You look like a diseased squirrel for crying out loud!”

Not having a comb or hairbrush, I combed my mop with my fingers so it looked slightly less rat-nest-ish, flicked off the light switch, and set out to find my parents.

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 4

Have you ever been in a big house or building and got yourself lost? Boy, I sure did! I honestly thought that when Grandmother had led me to what was to be my bedroom, I had paid attention to the path we took to get there, so that I could find it again later. Apparently I hadn’t paid close enough attention. Either that or I made a wrong turn somewhere; because before too long, I found myself inside a huge study with lots of books on really tall shelves and some comfortable looking leather furniture.

“You there! What are you doing? You’re not supposed to be in there! What-What!”

I spun around so fast, that I nearly fell down in the process.

“Grandfather!” I chirped, clutching at my thumping heart, “You-you startled me!”

“What on earth are you wearing? What-What!” he asked while giving his nose a flick.

I looked down at my heaving bare chest and the pristinely white towel that hung on me like a heavy white drapery. “G-Grandmother told me to wash and I did, but then I realized, that I didn’t have my clothes from the car!” I said nervously.

Before he spoke again, Grandfather cleared his throat, straightened his tie and combed one side of his salt and pepper mustache with his thumb and forefinger.

“So, you thought it would be proper to run around the house in nothing more than the suit God gave you? Highly irregular boy! Highly irregular, indeed! What-What!”

He cleared his throat even louder and combed the other side of his mustache, “And what, might I ask, were you doing in my study? What-What!”

Something in the way Grandfather looks at me causes me to go weak in the knees. I guess he scares me a little with those big bushy gray eyebrows atop his steely blue eyes and the way his mustache keeps twitching like it is alive or something.

“Honest Grandfather, I didn’t know! I-I was lost!” I said, trying not to fall apart under his reproachful stare.

“Lost? What-What!” he asked.

“Yes sir, I was trying to find my Mom and John to get my clothes and things.” I said, feeling less and less control over myself.

Grandfather shook his head while turning away.

"Highly irregular boy. Highly irregular indeed! " He said, sort of mumbling to himself.

I momentarily lost my train of thought because it occurred to me that he hadn’t ended his sentence with that odd ‘What-What!’ thing.

He stopped and looked back at me and the look on his face was exactly what one would look like if they were looking back at a pile of dog poo on the carpet.

“Well don’t dilly-dally boy! Hop to! Time wasted is time lost! What-What!”

I took his words to mean, that I was supposed to follow him; so I scurried after him while readjusting my towel.

As I followed, I noticed that the way Grandfather walks, isn’t like I’d ever seen someone else walk; he sort of marches in a somewhat dignified sort of way. You know what comes to mind? A man of royalty, like in the movies.

I guess I hadn’t been paying attention to where we were going, because when he came to an abrupt stop, I ran right into the back of him.

“Oomph!” I exclaimed as I fell back onto my butt with a thud.

Grandfather turned around looking very displeased with me and said, “Boy, you’ll never get anywhere in life sitting on your backside!”

He blew heavily out of his nose causing his mustache to twitch and flare, like a cats tail when it is scared.

I nervously nodded, “Yes sir, sorry sir!” and rubbed my now aching butt while getting to my feet without losing my towel.

He gave himself a little shake, kind of the way a dog does to dry off, only not nearly as vigorously. His mustache jumped, first the left side, then the right. It was both creepy and hypnotic at the same time.

“Right then.” he rhythmically rapped his knuckles on the door he was standing beside, “This is the door to the room you will be staying in, while you are with us. What-What!”

“Oh we’re back.” I butted in.

“What’s that?!” he asked with annoyance, “Now, stop interrupting boy! What-What!” and the old guy popped me on the top of my head with his hard knuckle. Granted it didn’t hurt much, but still he didn’t have to thump me like that.

“Now what was I say… Oh yes!” he said almost like someone invisible had answered his question before he’d finished asking it. Again, he rapped on the door, “This is the door to the room you will be staying in while you are with us.”

I rubbed the top of my head where he’d thumped me and shot him my meanest look, “What’d you go and do that for?”

He recoiled, scrunched up his nose and looked at me, as if I had suddenly just transformed into a hideous spider.

“Now listen here boy!” Grandfather started to say, “If you interrupt me again, I shall become quite cross. What-What!”

I nervously stopped rubbing my head, nodded and waited, for what I thought would be instructions on how to go find my parents, but instead he said, “You are to wait inside until your parents come. I shall send them up directly. What-What!”

Then he left me standing there alone. I went back into the room and with nothing else to do, but wait, I climbed up on the bed to sit down. However, I hadn’t expected the bed to be as soft as it was. With my back to the bed, I gave a little hop, thinking that my bottom would land on the mattress, but instead I fell over backward into the downy bedding. I was nearly swallowed alive by that darn bed and by the time I was able to free myself, I had made a mess of the bed coverings. As it was, while thrashing about, I had also managed to lose my towel. Therefore, when John came in, with his arms loaded down, I was sliding off the far side of the bed, totally naked again.

“Alvin? What are you doing?” John asked.

“John! That bed tried to eat me!” I said as I smacked the bedpost out of spite.

John must have thought I was playing, because he didn’t say anything further about it. He put all my things down on the floor at the foot of my bed and sensing, that he wasn’t going to say anything more, I quickly asked, “Is Mom still mad at me?”

He ran his hand through his hair and blew out a lungful of air.

“I tried to find you guys a few minutes ago, but I got lost and Grandfather brought me back here.” I said.

John nodded, which told me, that he already knew about that. “He told me that he had found you running around the house naked and snooping around in his study.”

“I wasn’t snooping!” I nearly shouted in defense, “I didn’t even go inside! All I did was open the door, because I was lost! And I was wearing a towel!”

John sat down on one of the suitcases and just looked at me for a good, long time. When he finally spoke, he sounded upset and tired too.

“Alvin, we have a chance at a new life here. I know you didn’t want to come here. Heck I didn’t want to come here either, but none of us had much of a choice. Now that we’re here, we have to make the best of it. And your Mom and I need you to help us with that.”

He paused, massaged his brow to reorganize his thoughts and then continued, “It’s not going to be easy for any of us at first. You’ll be going to a new school and making new friends. Your mother and I will be starting new jobs, while trying to carve out a life for ourselves here.”

He stopped talking again and I thought he was thinking, but then he looked at me and he seemed like he was about to start crying, but he didn’t.

“Alvin, I’ve not been a good dad to you or a good husband recently, but I want to change that. I need to change that! I love you and your mother so much that it hurts right here,” he thumped his chest with his fist, “knowing that I’ve caused you both so much pain.”

He stood up and crossed to the window to look out. He didn’t say anything else along those lines, nor did I. I only watched him until he turned to me and said, “Well it’s about time to eat. Let’s get you dressed and we’ll head down.”

John didn’t say a word when I fished out a pair of my underwear and put them on. I also found a pair of pants and a shirt, but I skipped socks, seeing how my shoes were still downstairs. At least, that is where I’d left them. Instead, I found my beach sandals and put those on.

Nothing else was said as I followed John out of the bedroom and back downstairs.

You might think I was being a real brat for not reacting to anything John had just said but frankly I’ve seen similar displays from him in the past and every time he’d turn around and disappoint me time and time again. So, no! I wasn’t moved by his apparent heart-felt speech. On the contrary, it made me sick to my stomach that he was pulling the same crap in Maine that he’d been pulling in California.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 5

The meal can be described with just five words, mostly gross and totally boring. I don’t think anyone said more than a dozen words all through the meal; and then there was the food! First, I was served a bowl of cold green soup; that they called Shrimp Cocktail Soup. Okay, for starters, soup is not supposed to be cold and I’ve had Shrimp Cocktails before, and that soup tasted nothing like that.

Then I was given a bowl of some yellow round vegetable with mushy seeds in the middle and a plate, of what I was told was fish. I know fish; I’ve spent a large portion of my life on and eating what comes from the ocean, so I think you know that I know fish! I could write a whole book about fish and I’m here to tell you, that I have never seen or smelled fish like that stuff. I think I only ate maybe two bites of it; the first bite was bad, the second was worse! However, I ate all of the yellow vegetable stuff. At first, I was hesitant, but after I tasted it, I found out, that I really liked it. I had been told what it was called, but I don’t remember now and we haven’t had it again since that first evening. Whatever it was, it was bright yellow and crunchy on the outside and kind of pale yellow and mushy inside. It tasted like… well, I have never had anything like it. It was ever so slightly sweet, with a hint of butter; oh, it was so lip smackingly yummy!

When we were done eating, I tried to talk to Mom, but all she said to me was, “Go get yourself ready for bed.”

When I tried to apologize again, she stomped her foot, pointed the way out of the room and said, “Bed, now mister!”

I dropped my head and slunk from the room, but I didn’t go directly to my room, because yet again, I got lost. However, this time I ended up in the kitchen, where this slightly overweight woman was washing out a shiny copper pot.

“Excuse me.” I said timidly.

Boy, I scared that lady so bad, that she nearly jumped out of her skin. She let go a screech and turned on me, like she was going to brain me with that copper pot.

“OH!” she exclaimed as she clutched at her heaving breast. “Oh my, you gave Micah such a fright!” she said with a thick foreign accent.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean,” I tried to say.

She then became stern with me. “W-what you doing in Micah’s kitchen? You should not be in here!” she said, waving that pot at me and for the second time I thought I was about to feel it upside my head.

I held up my hands in defense, as I closed my eyes tightly and waited for her to hit me.

“What you doing?” she asked with just as much feeling as before.

I opened just one eye to see, that she was standing there, looking dumbly at me.

“Micah not going to hit you.” She said laying a hand to her heart.

“W-well, I would be more likely to believe you, if you put down that pot.” I said with more bravery then I was feeling just then.

The heavy lady then burst into a loud, rumpus laughter, that seemed to rebound off the kitchen walls like cannon fire.

“Ooooh you are brave boy, no?” she said, while setting the pot down on the stone counter.

“Okay! Micah put down pot. Now you tell Micah why you in Micah’s kitchen.” I noticed each time she said Micah, she would thump her round belly.

“Uh,” I grunted while trying to find something to say, “Is that your name? Micah?” I asked.

“Yes, am Micah and scrawny boy,” she pointed a sausage like finger at me, “is in Micah’s kitchen.”

“Ok, I get it. So you are my grandparent’s maid?” I asked and boy oh boy, you would have thought I had uttered some kind of racial slur against her.

She began to rant in some language I didn’t understand, while angrily returning the copper pot to the soapy water in the sink.

And then she scared me as much, if not more, then I had scared her before. She came charging at me with a large ladle in one hand and a dripping wet rag in the other. She stopped short of running me down, held the ladle right up to my nose and continued to spew angry foreign words at me.

“I’m sorry Micah,” I said, with quite a bit of fear pouring out with my words, “but I don’t understand what you are saying.”

She stomped her foot the way my mother had done only a few minutes before, but when Micah had done it, I felt the floor beneath us shake.

“Micah no maid!” She said as if she were speaking a curse upon me and as though I hadn’t heard her the first time she all but shouted right into my face, “MICAH NO MAID!”

Scared? Yep, I was scared. Terrified even and though I tried to stop myself, I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I got a hard lump stuck in my throat.

“I-I’m sorry!” I stammered and she must have sensed that I was close to tears, because she suddenly became calm and smiled at me.

“Ooooooh, now look. Micah has scared scrawny boy thing!” she said and I flinched, as she threw her arms around me, nearly suffocating me in a bear hug. I don’t think she meant too, but that darn soup ladle clocked me in the back of the head. My face had become buried in her breasts, as she squeezed me so hard, I thought my head was going to pop right off my shoulders.

When she released me, I gasped for air, as she said, “You scrawny, but you good boy, so Micah no kill you today!” and she pinched my cheek really hard.

“But I no maid!” she said, brandishing that ladle in my face again, “Micah is chef.”

She lowered the ladle and turned, as though she were about to return to washing her pots. “Micah cook good food that make scrawny boy grow big and healthy. That what Micah do!”

I had a sudden flashback to that repulsive fish stuff that had been placed before me earlier and if that is, what Micah called good food, then I didn’t want any part of her cooking again.

“Micah can’t keep calling scrawny boy, Scrawny Boy. What they call you?” she asked me with the queerest grin.

“Alvin,” I answered strongly and hit my belly the way she kept doing every time she referred to herself.

“Aben?” she tried repeating.

“No Al-Vin,” I corrected her.

“Al-Ben?” she tried again, trying to sound it out the way I had done.

“Close enough.” I muttered and smiled.

“Al-ben like Machewie that Micah cook tonight?” she said, while plunging her hand into the soapy water.

I had no idea what Machuee… whatever, was, but I was honestly afraid of upsetting Micah again, so I simply grunted, “Uh huh” and left it at that. Or so I thought.

She stopped what she was doing and looked at me. Actually, it was more like she was looking threw me.

“Al-ben no like Machewie?” she said, as if she had just read my mind.

I shrugged, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you are asking me.”

“Machewie! Machewie!” she said.

I simply shook my head to indicate, that I still didn’t understand.

Frustrated she threw down the towel she was using to dry that same copper pot and crossed the kitchen. She pulled open an enormous stainless steel refrigerator door and pulled out, what I recognized as the leftovers of that fish we’d had.

“Oh that’s, uh.” I started to say.

“Machewie!” she said for me and motioned with one hand as if presenting to me a king’s ransom.

She smiled at me while holding it out, as though she wanted me to eat more of it.

I smiled back and decided in that instant, to tell her the truth, “Um, if I tell you that I didn’t like it, are you going to kill me, like you said before?”

Oh, she thought that was so funny and laughed loudly again. She then reached under the plastic wrap, picked off a large chunk of the fish and then popped it into her mouth.

“Mmmm!” she said.

I shook my head as I said, “Yuck!”

“What Al-ben like then?” she asked me.

“Well, pizza, spaghetti, chili, corn-dogs and stuff like that.” I said honestly.

She looked at me kind of funny like and then said, “I bet, Micah know what Al-ben like.”

After returning the fish to the refrigerator, she pulled out a large blue clay bowl that looked like it had been hand made.

“What’s that?” I asked with a hint of anxiety, in my voice.

“Oh, Al-ben taste first then Micah tell Al-ben.” She said coyly.

I groaned, “Do I have to?”

Micah looked hurt.

“Oh okay, but you have to promise not to hit me with a pan, or anything else, if I spit it out.” I said, trying to inject some humor. Thankfully, Micah laughed again, as she stuck a big wooden spoon into the bowl and scooped out a healthy portion. Whatever it was, it was brown and goopy, with chunks of something.

“Open!” she instructed and I hesitantly parted my lips, to allow her to insert the jiggling brown lump.

“HEY!” I exclaimed, “Now that’s good stuff!”

It tasted a bit like a chilidog, but different too.

“See! Micah not such bad chef after all, huh?” she said.

“No way, that was really good.” I said, licking my lips.

Micah then asked, if I was still hungry and when I told her I was, she scooped a bunch of the stuff into that same copper pot and said, “Micah make it hot for Al-ben.”

She never did tell me, what was in it and I guess that’s better, because if it had turned out to be something gross, like goat brains or cow balls, I probably would have barfed all over Micah’s kitchen floor.

As I was gobbling down the brown stuff I managed to ask her what the yellow vegetable we’d had for dinner was and she told me but darn it I forgot the name again. It was something squash and that’s all I can remember. Sadly there wasn’t any of that left over or I probably would have had a plate load of it too.

With a full stomach and another hug from Micah, she pushed me out of her kitchen and I’m not sure if she was joking or not, when she said to me, “Al-ben not belong in Micah’s kitchen! Al-ben go away and not come back.”

Actually, come to think about it, Micah was the first friend I made here. I mean, if you can even say that she is my friend, because most of the time, if I try to go into her kitchen, she chases me out with a pot or some other cooking utensil. However, on occasion, like if I come in after school or just before bed, she will let me sit off to the side and eat a little something that she would give to me. I think she took delight in making me try different things and not telling me what she was feeding me. However, nothing ever tasted as bad as that nasty fish had.

It was during those times together that I would tell her about, how it was in California and she would tell me about herself. I found out that Micah was born and raised in Austria and she has only been in the United States for two years. She’s the oldest of twelve children and the last of her brothers and sisters to leave Austria. Micah really is a remarkable woman and I like her a lot.

After leaving the kitchen that first night, I wandered around my grandparents’ home until, completely by chance, I happened upon the door to my room. What was amazing is that during all my wandering, I didn’t once run into either of my grandparents or my own parents. That first run-in with my grandfather was enough to last me a while.

Once safely in my room, I got undressed down to my underwear and was about to get into bed, when I remembered all those GoodNites in the armoire. At first, I didn’t open the armoire; I only stood there contemplating. Eventually, I did open the door, but I didn’t grab a GoodNite; at least not right away. I was having a real mental struggle, but in the end, commonsense won out and I let my underwear drop to the floor. Boy that first GoodNite felt strange, but not so much, that I wasn’t able to get used to it quick enough. I think, I was feeling kind of embarrassed, because where as I was willing at first to get into bed wearing only my underwear, I wasn’t willing to get into bed wearing only the GoodNite. That is when it hit me that all of my clothes were no longer sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed, where John had left them before we went to eat.

I went back to the armoire and swung open the door. I couldn’t believe that before, I had been so focused on the GoodNites, that I hadn’t noticed my clothes. Someone had come into the room and put all of my stuff away in the armoire. What was more amazing was the fact, that all of my clothes, including the hand-me-downs that Mrs. Doleshire had given me, fit into the armoire with all my regular clothes.

“These will do.” I said, pulling out a pair of shorts and slipping them on over the GoodNite.

As I closed the armoire again, I decided, that I needed to clean up after myself. I took the clothes I had been wearing to the bathroom and pushed them all down the laundry chute despite the fact that I’d only had them on for a couple hours.

I also found the best way to get into that man-eating bed. With care, I climbed up and stood on the wooden cross piece at the foot of the bed like a bird on balancing on a telephone wire. Then pretending to be a cliff diver, I dove in, spun myself as I fell and landed on my back with a soft ‘FLUMP’. I might add that on my first dive the difficulty level was greater than the nights to come on account of my bulging tummy; thanks to Micah.

Maybe only ten minutes had passed, before I heard a soft knock on my bedroom door. Of course, there was no way I could get out of that bed easily, so I just called out, “Come in!”

The door opened and in walked Mom, wearing her robe and looking like she had been crying. Without saying a word, she crossed over to the bed, found me down inside all those covers and kissed my forehead.

“Sorry I was so mean before. I didn’t mean it. I was having a butt-brain moment.” I said and she kissed me again.

Right after the kiss I caught her glancing down to make sure I was wearing one of the GoodNites. I was waiting for her to say something but she didn’t.

“I know and I love you too.” She said, “Now you better get some sleep. You have school in the morning.”

“SCHOOL IN THE MORNING!” I kept telling myself over and over until sleep finally overtook me.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 6

Sure enough, the day after we arrived in this God forsaken city, I had to go to school and my first day at my new school was just as bad, as you might guess it would be.

Things started going wrong, right after I got out of the shower that morning. However, I didn’t really know that it was going to be a bad day until I was standing at the bus stop, waiting for the school bus and this girl whom I thought might be flirting with me, bursts out laughing. She proceeded to point out to everyone at the bus stop, that I was wearing two different socks. I mean, not just different colors, but different kinds; one white tube-sock and one brown and gray argyle sock.

“It’s not my fault!” I wanted to say, but I didn’t.

Back in California, I knew were everything was in my bedroom. Heck, I could tell you where just about every single item was in our entire home. However, here in Maine I had felt lucky, that I was able to find two socks to wear that morning. I had rummaged through that whole dang armoire, looking for socks. What I was wearing, was what I was able to find and the only reason I found them was, because they had been wadded up and stuffed into the pocket of two different pairs of pants. Don’t ask me why or how, just believe me when I say, that is where I found them.

The socks weren’t the worst of it. At least, no one at the bus stop knew that I wasn’t wearing any underwear, because all of my underwear also seemed to be suspiciously absent from the armoire. My, you-know-what, was so cold that it would have taken the Hubble Telescope to find it; that’s how cold I was without underwear.

Later that same day, after returning from school, I had the chance to ask about my socks and underwear. Come to find out, my socks, underwear and t-shirts had all been put into the drawers in the bathroom vanity under the sink. Now it seems logical, that I should have looked there. I mean, when you get out of the shower or tub, besides a towel, what is the first thing you go looking for? See what I mean? Totally logical! However, at the time, I didn’t have a clue where all those ‘under clothes’ had managed to get lost to.

All the way to school, people were pointing at me and snickering. I really wanted to say something, but most of them were bigger and older than I was, so I had no choice, but to sit there and take their verbal bullying.

Heck, even the bus driver had some wisecrack, as I was getting off the bus. “Nice fashion statement kid! Next time you should try wearing your underpants on your head and your belt as a necktie.”

Then, on the way into the school, I stepped on someone’s freshly discarded bubblegum and it stuck to the bottom of my shoe. When I leaned against the flag pole to pick it off, this crabapple of a teacher began to yell at me.

“You there!” she shouted.

I looked around and seen this flabby skinned old woman with big white curly hair and so much loose skin under her chin, that she looked like a featherless turkey. She was pointing at me from across the quad, with a long judgmental finger. When I looked around and didn’t see anyone else nearby, I pointed to myself questioningly.

“Yes you!” she started to tromp toward me, all the while pointing her accusing finger my way. I don’t know, maybe she thought, that her finger has some sort of magical powers, to keep wrong doers like myself from fleeing the scene of the crime.

“You’re not supposed to walk on the grass! Can’t you read?” she croaked and I could see the skin under her chin flapping with each step she took.

“Not supposed to walk on the grass?” I thought; “If I hadn’t stepped aside, I would have been trampled to death by the herd of students pouring into the school.” However, I didn’t want any trouble, so I quickly grabbed the mashed wad of gum, pulled the majority of it off my shoe, flung it hard to the ground and slipped back into the crowd, before the old hag could get close enough to see who I was. At least, I hope she didn’t get a good look at me. Maybe that finger of hers wasn’t meant to keep me from escaping, but maybe it had marked me somehow, so that she could later hunt me down.

Now, in my old school, on the first day of the school year, everyone went to the main auditorium, to stand in line to find out, what classroom you were supposed to be in that year. However, in Boyd Junior High, everyone seemed to already know where to go, except for me. They were running to their lockers, dialing in their combinations and then racing off to different classrooms. When the bell rang, I found myself standing alone by a row of lockers, feeling lost and scared.

“Why aren’t you in class?!” a high-pitched voice blasted behind me.

I must have jumped ten feet in the air and spun around, before I touched down again. I was standing face-to-face with a Hall Monitor. We had those in California too and I have had more than my share of run-ins with them.

“Didn’t you hear the bell?” she asked, while waving a pencil eraser in my face.

She had spiked blonde hair that pointed in every direction with the back was long and hanging down to her shoulders. I think they used to call that hairstyle a Mullet or something like that. It isn’t a particularly flattering way to wear ones hair, but on her, it somehow worked. When she spoke, her head jiggled like an enormous blob of Jell-O. She was also built like a linebacker, with the broad shoulders and thick neck that typically comes with those types of sports people. I instantly assumed that, besides being a dorky Hall Monitor, she must also be a jock, either volleyball or… do they let girls play football in Maine?

Wait, do they even have volleyball or football in Maine?

Sure, Hall Monitor slash jock is a weird combination, but it’s not unheard of. Back in my old school, we called the Hall Monitors, Hall Nazi’s, among many other, equally derogatory names. I must confess that besides my many encounters with the Hall Nazi’s… back in the fourth grade, I also used to be one of them for all of about two days, before I got busted for sneaking out of school to go surfing. Gosh, I miss surfing!

So there I was, being stared down by the She-Hulk-Nazi and wondering, if she was going to jab me in the eye with her pencil, or put me into a headlock. It turned out that the big sport here in Maine isn’t volleyball or football; it’s hockey and of course, I know less than nothing about hockey.

“Let me guess, you’re the captain of the football team?” I said, trying to sound cool.

“What? Are you some kind of retard? I wouldn’t be caught dead, playing that pansy sport.” She said and I noted the throbbing vain, that had sprouted above her left eyebrow.

She turned to show me the back of her sweater. It read, ‘Boyd Bears’ and had an embroidered image of a bear wearing a hockey mask and holding a hockey stick.

I guess I know a little more than nothing about hockey, because I knew what a hockey mask and hockey stick were.

“Sorry, I-I’m new here.” I managed to say without my voice cracking and giving away, how scared I was at that moment.

“No excuse!” She said pulling a red card out of her shirt pocket and handing it to me. “Homeroom assignments have been hanging on the front doors for over a month!”

“Huh?” I moaned in confusion.

She pointed down the hall to the doors I’d walked through only minutes before. I could see several sheets of paper, taped to the insides of the glass.

“But I didn’t know. We just moved here yesterday.” I said.

The girl sighed, “Alright, what’s your name?”

“Alvin, Alvin Holloway.” I said nervously.

“So Alvin-Alvin Holloway,” man, I couldn’t believe she used that old lame joke, “go look at the lists. Find your name and beside your name, there is a class room number and a locker number.” She stopped and scratched her left ear, “Well, seeing how you’re already here, you can’t very well find out the combination the normal way.” she said and I got the idea that she was talking to herself more than to me just then.

“Normally, you call a special number.” She said, while scratching her head with the eraser, “and get the combination before school starts. I guess you’ll have to go to the office to get it now.”

I looked at the red card; it was just a normal piece of construction paper. It didn’t say anything; it was completely blank.

Now, what I wanted to say, was, “Hey thanks for the new book mark!”, but what I actually said was, “Uh, what am I supposed to do with this?”

She wrinkled her nose, as if I smelled of dog droppings. “Why do you look and talk so weird?”

I looked down at myself to make sure, my fly wasn’t open and then said defensively, “I don’t!”

“Yes you do! Where are you from?” She looked like she was getting tired of talking to me.

“California,” I answered proudly.

I must have surprised her with that answer, because her eyebrows jumped to the top of her forehead and her eyes got really big.

“No kidding?” she said in a higher pitch, “I never met anyone from California. Is everyone as lazy out there, as they say?”

Now I was tired of talking to this girl and I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but I didn’t. “No more than the people here in Maine are rude jerks.” With that, she spun around and walked away, without saying another word to me.

I was left to fend for myself yet again. I walked back to the doors, walked outside to read the papers, found my name and my locker number and then spent the next ten minutes wandering the halls, trying to find the office. I finally did locate it, but when I opened the door, I saw, that there were twenty or more kids in there. It was nearly a half-hour before it was my turn to ask for help, but when I stepped up to the lady that was sitting behind a big wooden desk, she saw the red card in my hand and pointed down the hallway behind me.

“You’re in the wrong line! Down that hall and sit on one of the yellow chairs. Mr. Casting will be with you shortly.”

“But I just need my combination.” I said.

The lady repeated herself word for word, “Down that hall and sit on one of the yellow chairs. Mr. Casting will be with you shortly.”

“But I…” I tried again.

Once again, she repeated, “Down that hall and sit on one of the yellow chairs. Mr. Casting will be with you shortly.”

I figured that the line for locker combinations must be down the hall, so I did, what the lady told me to do. Five minutes later, I was standing in the Principal’s office, receiving a lecture about why students are not supposed to be wandering the halls after the class bell rings. Principal Casting was a short, partially bald man, with a bad comb-over and wickedly crooked teeth. Never once did Principal Casting look at me, while he recited, what must have been a memorized speech. He ended with, “And seeing how this is the first day of school, I will let you off with a warning, but only this one time. Now get to class.”

I was heading back up the hallway to the open area of the office, to once again, try to get my locker combination, when a door to my right opened and a boy taller than me came out. Our eyes met and he suddenly blushed so red, he looked like he had a wicked case of sunburn. He made a sound like someone had just kicked him in the balls, turned, ran back into the room and quickly closed the door. I had no idea why he had been so embarrassed when he saw me, however, I was quickly learning that the people living in Maine are quite a different sort of people than what I am accustomed to.

At first, I didn’t give this any thought at all, but while I was standing in line, waiting to talk to the lady about my locker combination, I saw no less than a dozen boys and girls going in and out of that room. However, I never saw that first boy come back out again.

It was during lunch period, that I saw that same guy again and just as before, when he spotted me, he spun around and took off in the opposite direction. I got a better look at him this time and though I couldn’t put my finger on it, something about him seemed … well, something just didn’t seem right about him.

Believe it or not, I was actually wishing I had Micah’s horrible Machewie fish stuff instead of, what the school was serving for lunch. I sat alone, eating my rubbery, tasteless macaroni and cheese, with limp broccoli, what I imagine was supposed to be a ham steak and milk so cold, it had ice crystals in it. Maybe it was just me, but it felt like I was being watched the whole time I sat there, trying to choke down that awful stuff. Then again, I was probably just being paranoid.

It was nearly at the end of the day, when things really got interesting, and I don’t mean in a good way. Despite missing nearly all of my first class, I was beginning to get a little more comfortable and getting the hang of the schools layout. I had all my textbooks piled into my locker, except for my last class, Social Studies, which was where I was heading when I got the sudden urge to pee. As luck would have it, the bathroom was all the way at the other end of the hall and I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it through the crowded hallway to the bathroom and then back again before the bell, but I also knew that there was no way I would make it through a 45-minute class, without having to ask for permission to go to the restroom. I decided to chance it and try for the bathroom. I put myself against the far wall and squeezed past everyone, only getting rammed into three times.

Of course, you know, that the bathroom was packed, mostly with other boys flapping their gums, while others stood around doing the pee-pee dance, as they waited for a toilet or urinal to become available. There were still three kids ahead of me when the bell rang, but by then I was in extreme distress. I was so glad when all but the three boys ahead of me vacated the bathroom in a hurry to get to their classrooms before final bell. Four of us manned a urinal and let loose our bladder contents, like golden laser beams firing against the white porcelain. The boy furthest from me let loose a fart loud enough to wake the dead and all four of us started laughing.

“Ahhhh that felt good!” he moaned and laughed.

One of the others shot back with, “Yeah and by the sound of it, you might need to wipe yourself now!”

The boy who farted laughed, as he belted out loudly, “Who wipes!”

The boy closest to me piped in with, “Man Larry, you stole that from the movie Madagascar!”

“No, they stole it from me!” Larry laughed back.

Almost in unison, the three of them zipped back up and flushed. I expected the three of them to haul butt for their classes, but instead the boy who had farted, the one they had called Larry, stopped behind me while I was still peeing.

“What’s your name kid?” he asked.

“Alvin, Alvin Holloway.” I answered.

“I’m Larry, this here is Fish, and that is BB.” Larry said.

I finally finished peeing and zipped up before turning around.

“So, you new here or something?” the boy named Fish asked me.

I nodded, “Just moved here yesterday.”

“Yesterday? Whoa, so where from?” Larry asked.

They seemed fairly nice so I didn’t mind the third degree and continued to answer their questions.

“California,” I answered.

“Is that why you talk so weird?” BB asked, trying to imitate me.

I suddenly got the feeling, that maybe they weren’t the friendly sort I’d thought them to be.

“Listen, I better get to class.” I said, trying to squeeze past Larry who was partially blocking my escape route.

“Wait a sec’,” Larry said, putting a hand against my chest, “You didn’t flush.”

“Oh yeah, sorry.” I said turning my back on them, so that I could give the flush button on the wall a push.

However, the second I pressed the button all three of them rushed on me and shoved me forward into the urinal. Before I could react, they zoomed out of the bathroom. When I regained my balance, I looked down and saw that the lower part of my shirt and the front of my pants were completely soaked.

“Son of a bitch!” I cussed aloud.

“HEY!” someone shouted behind me.

Momentarily forgetting about my pants and shirt being wet, I spun around to see, that it was my good friend, the Hall-Nazi from this morning.

“Cussing is an automatic Red Ca…” she started to say, but stopped short when it dawned on her, that we’d already had a run-in with each other earlier in the day. “Oh hey, I remember you!” she said and then she noticed my obvious wet spot.

“You piss yourself?” she asked.

Trying to cover the front of my pants with my hands, which was a feeble task at best, I snapped back, “No I did not piss myself!” and because we were in the bathroom, my voice echoed off the tiled walls and sounded louder, then I’d meant for it too. “Some mother fu…” I started to say, but the girl cut me off with, “Hey-Hey! No cussing or I’ll have no choice, but to Red Card you.”

Was I just imaging it, or was that girl actually trying to be nice to me? Anyway, I was too mad and too worked up to care. If my good friend Gary from back in California had been around right then, he probably would have chewed me out for cussing. Gosh, I miss Gary!

“Some GUYS,” I said with strong emphasis on the word GUYS, “shoved me into the urinal!”

But then something occurred to me, “Hold on a second! You’re a girl! You can’t come into the boy’s bathroom!”

“Never mind that,” she said with a snap of her fingers, “let me guess, you didn’t even see who they were, right?”

“I can do you one better than that; they told me their names, Larry…” I started to say, but then she finished for me.

“Fish and BB?” she knowingly asked.

“Yeah, that’s right!” I agreed.

“Well, you’ve just had the pleasure of meeting the worst we have here at Boyd’s.” she said and then she smiled, stepped toward me and stuck out her hand. “Names Hillary Thennings; but most everyone just calls me Stacks.”

I sort of held out my hands and shrugged, “I’ve not even washed my hands yet.”

“Don’t matter! Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a little pee on my hands.” She said, eagerly taking hold of my right hand and shaking it vigorously. “I’ve got two younger brothers at home.” She announced as if I needed to know that about her.

“I’m guessing you’ve had a fairly horrible first day?” she said, releasing my hand and stepping back to get another full view of my wet clothes.

“You can say that again!” I said, sounding practically defeated.

She pointed at me and cocked her head to one side, “It’s Alvin-Alvin, right?” she asked with a smirk.

I nodded and grimaced at the same time.

“Thought so, I’m good with names and faces.” She said proudly.

“What did you say they call you?” I asked as I missed it the first time.

“Stacks,” she answered quickly.

“Is that because you’re built like a brick smoke stack?” I asked, hoping that it sounded halfway humorous.

“Nah, nothing like that. I got the nick Stacks because I’m known for stacking up the goals, one right after the other.”

“So, you are on the football team?” I joked, knowing full well, that she was into Hockey.

“Anyone, who’s anyone around here, plays hockey.” She said and then asked me, “You play?”

“I don’t think I have ever seen a game, unless you count the movies. Uh, they do call them games, right?” I asked sheepishly.

“Yeah. A game or a match.” She said with a slight shrug.

“Say, why don’t you come with me?. I’ll escort you to the office and we can get you some dry clothes.” Stacks suggested.

For nearly a full minute, I had actually forgotten that I was standing there, wearing clothes that looked as though I had peed in them.

“I don’t suppose you’d look the other way and let me hide out in one of the stalls, until my clothes dry or school ends.” I asked hopefully.

“No need to worry.” Stacks continued, “You’re not the first to fall victim to Larry and those other hooligans. They’re well known by the staff, so when I tell who did it to you, no one will even second guess it.”

“Whoa, hold the phone… Did you just say hooligans?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah!” Stacks said, as if I’d just asked the world’s dumbest question.

I waved my hands in the air like I was erasing my words from a chalkboard. “Never mind,” I mumbled.

Thankfully, Stacks had been right. Once she told the lady in the office, the one I’d seen early, who was still sitting behind the same big wooden desk, what had happened, she grimaced and said, “If you ask me, they should take those three and that girl they hang out with, and lock them away.”

She then waved us off with the back of her hand, “Go on; take him back.”

Down the office hall and to the right we stopped before a flat wooden door, stained a dark honey color. Smack-dab in the middle of the door, was a poster of a large green frowny-face. You know, like a smiley-face only it was frowning. Just under the frowny-face, it read…

Is It Friday Yet!

I’m not sure what I was expecting to find behind the door, but what I saw when Stacks opened it, was not something I would have ever expected to see in a school. How do I describe it? Oh I know: Pepto-Bismol! The entire room looked, as though it had been hosed down with Pepto-Bismol. Pink walls, pink ceiling, pink shaggy area rug, pink metal desk with a pink vinyl high-back office chair and on the pink desk was a lamp with a pink lampshade.

There wasn’t anyone in the… uh… office, but that didn’t seem to alarm Stacks who sashayed right in like she owned the place. When I didn’t follow, she reached out, took hold of the front of my shirt and pulled me into the room.

Stacks left me standing near the door, while she went behind the desk to a low, wide filing cabinet. She was rummaging through the cabinet and stopped every few seconds to look back at me, as if she expected me to abruptly disappear from the room.

“She always keeps extra clothes in here for just such an emergency.” Stacks said.

“She who?” I asked.

“Oh, the school nurse.” She said off handedly, “This is her office.”

“Why’s it pink?” I asked, not really meaning for the words to come out of my mouth.

Stacks turned back around with some clothes in her arms. “Because she likes pink, silly.” She said with a humorous snort.

She held a white shirt with bright blue buttons up to me.

“That should fit, though it might be a bit big on you.” She said and had she left it at that, it would have been just fine, but she had to go and add, “Are all the boys in California scrawny like you?”

I sucked in my bottom lip and chomped down on it with my teeth to keep me from saying something smart back to her. That was twice in two days that someone had called me scrawny and it was already getting old.

She didn’t seem to notice as she held a pair of green, yes I said green, pants up to me. “Oh no, way too big.”

I think I may have sighed a breath of relief when she said those horrid green pants were too big for me.

After holding up a pair of blue jeans and a pair of dark blue slacks, she unobtrusively announced, “I suppose you can roll up the jeans.”

After setting the shirt and jeans down on the desk, she said, “I’m afraid there aren’t any underpants in the cabinet so you’ll have to go Commando.”

“Excuse me?” I said with a nervous cough.

“Commando… you know,” she blushed slightly as she flicked her hair back.

I shrugged.

“Commando means, you wear your pants without underpants.” She said and now she was really blushing.

Why I said what I said next, I don’t know, but oh how I wish I hadn’t. “I’m not wearing any anyhow.”

Oh my gosh!!! I thought my face was going to burst into flames, it got that hot. Even my ears felt like they were on fire.

Thankfully, Stacks left me alone to change and I had time to recover from my embarrassment, but she returned quicker than I expected. With a gentle knock, she announced her return and without me saying a word, she came back into the room. I had on the pants and was buttoning up the shirt.

“Oh most definitely, we’ll need to roll up those pants.” She said and knelt before me, to begin rolling up the hem of the pants.

I felt really uncomfortable, having this strange girl helping me dress, but I didn’t feel like it would be right to object, seeing how she had just saved me from a fatal case of embarrassment, had any other student seen me with my clothes wet.

She looked up at me, “What’s with the socks? Or do they wear different socks in California?”

I shook my head and said, “Oh yeah, everyone who is anyone wears their socks like this! Haven’t you seen all those Hollywood stars?”

She make a teeth sucking sound like she wasn’t sure if she believed me or not. She went on to roll up the second pant leg. However, when Stacks started to tuck the shirt in for me, I jumped back, “No, I can do it myself.”

“Oh sorry, I’m just used to helping my brothers.” She said, blushing again. “You look a little bit like my youngest brother… I mean in the eyes.”

She picked up my wet clothes and said, “I’ll put these in a plastic bag and you can put them in your locker.”

“Sweet!” I said.

“What?” She asked back.

“Oh, I meant to say thanks.” I said.

“You can have your mom wash that shirt and pants and bring them back tomorrow.” Stacks said but then she stopped abruptly and adopted this concerned expression, “Do you have a mom? I mean…”

“Yeah I have a mom and a dad.” I assured her with a laughing smile which put her at ease.

The rest of the day, I didn’t see Stacks or those three jerks. Anyway, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t see Larry, Fish, and BB, because I would have had to attempt to beat the crap out of them. Yeah, I am sure I would have lost, but that wouldn’t have stopped me from getting a few good licks in before they pummeled me to death.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 7

After what happened on the bus to school that first day, I decided, I wasn’t riding the bus anymore. However I would instead walk to and from school every single day no matter how bad the weather got. It isn’t really all that far, except there is one fairly busy street to cross. And besides, walking is good for you, right?

After about a week, I started to fall into an after-school routine. I would come home, stop in to see Micah for a snack, then do my homework, write a short letter to one or more of my distant friends, and then I would set off to explore the house. I was careful not to be seen or heard by anyone, so that I wouldn’t get in trouble like I had that first day. I never really found anything scandalous or interesting to write to my friends about. Mostly, I was just learning the layout of my grandparent’s house and I guess that was a good thing. At least I was less likely to get lost again.

On Monday of that second week in hell, I mean Lewiston; I was having a particularly rotten day. During lunch, I’d had another run in with Larry, BB, Fish, and the girl I had heard about. Oh was she a wonderful piece of work and I don’t mean wonderful in a good way. She has jet-black hair that looks, as if it has never seen shampoo or a brush… Ever! She wears black plastic frame eyeglasses, which make her dark doll-like eyes seem larger than normal. And Heaven help us all, she sure does like to show off those oversized, brown, furry, teeth of hers. However, by far her worst trait is the smell that seemed to encompass her like a cloud of green mist. Oh man she absolutely reeks of cigarettes and B.O. all the time. What amazes me is the remarkable fact that Larry, Fish, and BB don’t seem to be affected, or even mind her constant olfactory assault.

Back in Chula Vista I had this friend named Jenny Dueler who was very over weight and hygiene lacking but she was nothing like this girl in Maine. I’m talking black and white difference here!!!

Somehow, I had lucked out to be right in the middle of them in the lunch line, with BB and Bertha, which is the girls’ name, in front of me and Larry and Fish behind me.

“Hey, it’s the California kid I was telling you about!” BB said elbowing Bertha to get her attention.

“Oh, you’re right! He is scrawny!” Bertha said with a belch so loud that she could have woke up old Rip-Van-Winkle.

“If one more person calls me scrawny!” I thought to myself.

I found it ironic, that she was calling me scrawny, when she looked as though she were nothing more than skin, stretched over a wire skeleton.

I happen to noticed a few of the other kids in line were holding their noses, or pulling the front collar of their shirts up over their mouth and noses like old time bandits, to act as makeshift air filters.

She reached out to touch me and instinctively I recoiled.

“Hold still!” she growled at me.

“Drop dead!” I snapped and blew past them before I hurled.

I only had a bologna sandwich on my tray, but I didn’t care. If I had stayed in line any longer, I might have barfed from the horrific odor emanating from that Anorexic walking outhouse.

“Hey California!” Bertha shouted, “Where you going? I wasn’t done talking to you!”

I quickly paid for my sandwich and walked as fast as I could get away with, to the far side of the lunchroom, where I sat and slouched down in hopes, that they couldn’t see me.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 8

The rest of that particular school day was uneventful, but something else occurred while walking home from school. I was about to the halfway point between school and my grandparents’ home, which also happens to be, where the entrance to Memorial Gardens Park is, when I had the oddest feeling wash over me. It was as if I knew that I was being watched. It was very much like when out in the middle of the ocean all alone and some sixth sense would tell me that one or more sharks was around even when I couldn’t see a shark fin for miles. For a panic filled second, I thought maybe Bertha and those guys had followed me home; however when I spun around, no one was there.

I didn’t think much about it until it happened again the following afternoon, except this time, the feeling was ten times stronger.

In a lot of ways, Tuesday was a repeat of Monday. Once more at lunchtime, I found myself smack-dab in between Larry and Bertha. Where Fish and BB were, I didn’t know and frankly, I was glad they weren’t around. Larry and Bertha were enough trouble. Heaven knows why, but they have taken a liking to me and unlike Monday, I wasn’t able to shake them. They stuck right with me, as I found a place to sit and eat. However, I couldn’t eat. The toxic fumes that swirled around Bertha, made me lose my appetite. I wish I could have just got up and walked away, like everyone else around us had done, but I knew Larry and Bertha would have followed me.

After school, as I was walking home, I felt that peculiar tingling on the back of my neck and the hairs on my arm stood up again. Like I said before, the feeling was much stronger than it had been on Monday. I stopped in mid-stride and threw my head around so fast, that my neck cracked. However, same as the afternoon before, there was no one anywhere within sight. It took longer for me to shake off the feeling. I don’t think it left me, until after I was within sight of my grandparents’ home.

Wednesday was different, in at least, that I didn’t run into Bertha and the others, but luck wasn’t totally on my side that day. On the way to fifth period I felt like I needed to pee I knew that I wouldn’t have time to pee and go to my locker too so I made the decision, that I didn’t need to pee that badly and that I could hold it until after fifth period was over. I was so wrong.

Ten minutes into class and the urge to pee had become a full-fledged emergency. Fifteen minutes in and the need had passed the emergency stage and moved on a blinding pain of Biblical proportions!

“Please open your books to the questions at the end of chapter two. And who would like to give me the answer to question one?” our teacher had asked.

I hadn’t really heard what she said, because I had to pee so desperately; so when I raised my hand to ask if I could go to the bathroom, I was caught off guard, when she called on me for the answer.

“Alvin, good! I don’t think we’ve heard from you yet this year. What do you think the answer is?” she said.

“What? Uh, I don’t know. I-I need to go to the bathroom!” I said and everyone laughed; everyone except for our teacher and me.

Thankfully, she read in my face how painfully urgent it was, because she didn’t give me a hard time about it. She simply held out the bathroom pass and waited for me to come get it. The pass was a large piece of wood, with ocean green painted letters, which read BATHROOM PASS on both sides.

Everyone was still giggling as I did the pee-pee walk up to the front of the room, but I didn’t care. Well actually, I did care, but my need to pee canceled out my embarrassment. I grabbed the pass, race-walked out the door and started down the hallway toward the boys’ bathroom.

Oh man, that was the longest walk from the classroom to the bathroom. I was scared that I wasn’t going to make it to the door let alone inside. However I did make it to the door, but when I swung open the bathroom door, I ran face first into a wall of cigarette smoke. I’ve been around school bathrooms enough to know, that they are not just used for peeing and pooping. With that being said, on that day, at that very moment in time, I had one thing, and one thing only, on my mind and it wasn’t boys smoking in the bathroom! Therefore, when that smoke slapped me in the face, I hadn’t been expecting it. I coughed only once and then it happened. It was like someone had just blew-up the Hoover Dam and released the zillions of gallons of water that it had held back for all those years. My bladder suddenly let loose a torrent of pee into my pants that would have made the Colorado River look like a backyard garden hose.

I coughed a second time and heard from inside the bathroom, “Someone’s coming!” and then heard the flush of a toilet, which I knew meant that whoever was in the bathroom smoking, had just flushed their cigarettes down the commode. If I hadn’t been choking on the smoke, I would have found that fact funny, because even though the cigarettes were gone, they couldn’t hide the fact that the bathroom was literally swallowed up in smoke.

I coughed a third time and those that had been inside the bathroom, rushed out of the door to escape. They must have thought I was a teacher or, I am sure, they wouldn’t have panicked like that. I was knocked backwards onto my butt with a splash; as three boys bolted out the door and ran down the hallway without slowing down to see who they had just run over. I had the presence of mind to look to see, who it was and sure enough, it was Larry, Fish, and BB.

I think I swore as I stood up and realized what had just happened.

“Oh no!” I whimpered, as I saw that my pants weren’t just wet, they were soaked. There was even pee dripping from the hem of my pants onto my shoes and a large puddle had formed beneath me.

Despite the smoke, there was no way I was going to stand there in the hallway wearing pee pants. I mean, what if someone else came along?

For half a second I thought about the pink room, that Stacks had taken me to, in the school office. However, as soon as I thought about it, I also thought about, how it would be to walk into the office and have everyone see me in wet pants again.

I took a deep breath, held it, and ran into the bathroom to the furthest stall, where I locked myself inside. The tears flowed down my face, much the way the pee had flowed down my legs seconds before. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I let my breath out and gasped, then coughed hard, causing a short shot of pee to shoot from my penis again.

“What am I going to do?” I sobbed and huffed, “I can’t let anyone see me like this!”

And that easily it was decided; I wasn’t going back to class! I was going to run out of the school and I wasn’t going to stop running until I was safely in my bedroom.

I opened the door to the stall and began running with no care for how much noise I was making as my shoes pounded the polished floors.

My tears never slowed as I crashed into the school doors and threw them open. They banged like a gun as they flew all the way open. My knees pumped like a well-designed machine, but had I not been crying so hard, I might have been able to run even faster.

I was totally intent on running all the way to my grandparents’ house, but when I neared the park, I had to slow down to catch my breath. I stopped near the entrance to the park and leaned against a lamppost. I was panting hard as I wiped the snot from my nose and the tears from my face with the sleeve of my shirt. Only then did I realize I was still holding the wooden bathroom pass. I actually chuckled when I saw it in my hand.

As I stood there, wearing pee soaked pants and no jacket, the chill in the air became quite apparent. Then, that feeling that I was being watched occurred again and I’m sorry, but three days in a row is too creepy to dismiss! In an instant I all but stopped crying and I wanted to quickly look around. However, this time I dropped to one knee. Under the guise of tying my shoe, I scanned the area in all directions. From out of the corner of my eye, I saw some kids head poking out from around a large tree on the other side of the street.

Whoever it was, they didn’t want me to know, that they were spying on me. At first, I was a bit scared. I hadn’t made any friends. Heck, except for Stacks, I hadn’t met anyone that could remotely be considered a possibility for becoming a friend.

I stood back up, stuffed the bathroom pass into my back pocket, adjusted my shirt and started to walk slowly at first, while trying to keep a watchful eye on the tree. Though I couldn’t see it clearly, I mean I didn’t want to give away that I knew someone was there, I did see someone move out from behind the tree. Whoever it was, they were trying to keep pace with me, while still slipping behind bushes, trees and parked cars.

I decided I wanted to see if I could get this guy to follow me away from my usual route so I ducked into the park entrance and walked along the paved road a ways. Sure enough I caught a glimpse of my pursuer cross the street and enter the park. I didn’t go all the way into the park. Not too far in there was a walk path that lead off to my right. I decided I’d take that way as it appeared to go fairly perpendicular to the road I normally walk down.

However, about a block or so in the trail took a sharp turn to the left. I decided that since I’d be out of sight of the other guy for a moment I’d take advantage of that and try to run ahead to find a place to hide.

I ran as fast as I could and as I ran I realized I’d forgotten how wet I was as the air once more began to chill me a lot. It was then I decided that maybe this game of cat and mouse wasn’t a game I wanted to play on this day. So I poured on the speed and ran for all I was worth farther and farther down the path. I had no idea where the path was leading me but I knew eventually it had to let me back out into the park or maybe another street.

Unfortunately, I did not know that the path was actually a jogging track that meandered all the way around the park. I’d slowed to a steady jog and had stopped pumping my arms as I was too cold. Instead I kept my hands stuffed into my arm pits as I jogged along. Every so often I’d look back but never saw my follower. I finally figured out it was a jogging track when two ladies jogged passed me and both were wearing jogging outfits.

Shortly after we passed I came upon a trail side marker that read, “3/4 Mile”.

“I’ve gone nearly a mile?!” I asked myself out loud.

Of course that wasn’t the case. Actually I’d only jogged a quarter mile as I was going backwards on the track. I figured that out when I reached the next marker which read, “1/2 Mile” and groaned.

I began to consider turning left and running through the park but I had no idea what direction to actually go. I could end up running in circles and cover a lot more than just a half mile. So I stayed on the trail while still stealing glances back every so often.

“1/4 Mile”

“YES!” I cheered when I saw the quarter mile marker and even sped up a bit. And sure enough, when I came to the end of that last quarter mile I exited almost exactly opposite where I had entered on the other side.

Breathing hard and both sweating and freezing I walked out of the park and toward home.

When I turned onto my grandparents’ street, I decided to look back just one more time and guess what! I got my chance to get a better look at my shadow who must have given up and gone back to wait for me to come out on the other side. I saw it was indeed a boy who looked to be about my size, with hair on the long side. I don’t mean long like a girl, but it was longer than what most guys here in Maine usually wear. From that distance, his hair appeared to be brownish and he was wearing a dark blue jersey with faded blue jeans.

Once I had rounded the corner and knew that I was temporarily out of sight of whoever that guy was, I ducked behind a parked car and waited for him to catch up to me. However, no one ever appeared. When I decided to peek, he had vanished. I guess, whoever he was, had finally given up the cloak and dagger stuff.

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 9

As I walked in the door to my grandparents’ house, I was greeted by my grandmother.

“What on earth do you think you are doing young man?” she snapped at me. “Your school just called to say, that you went to the Boys’ Room, and never returned to class. They have the police and everyone looking for you!”

Maybe it was because I was so upset at wetting my pants, or maybe I had just about had it with the way my grandparents treated me. At any rate, I lost it. I mean, I got farting-in-your-face, peeing-into-the-wind, and wiping-a-booger-on-someone, rude. Things started flying out of my mouth that, had I been talking like that to my older surfing buddy Gary, back in California, he would have knocked me into next week.

Grandmother looked down on me with revulsion as I cussed and ranted. Finally, I finished with, “And has it escaped your notice, that my damn pants are soaked in piss and half frozen?”

She didn’t get mad. She didn’t yell. All she did was say, “Please remove your wet things, so that you don’t drip all over the house.”

“Remove my wet things?” I screamed, “You know what? Fine! That’s right! FINE!”

I began pulling off every stitch of clothing right there in front of all of heaven, the neighbors, and everyone. I was throwing them to the ground so hard, that pee splashed in every direction.

Once I was completely naked, I stood breathing hard as my grandmother calmly bent down, picked up all of my things and then said, “Please go take a shower and wait in your room until your parents get home.”

And that is all that was said… at least until John and Mom returned home from work that evening.

After having another good long cry while standing under a skin-roasting shower, I sat at the bottom of the shower until they came home.

John was the first to arrive and by the sound of him, Grandmother had already informed him of everything. He had burst into the bedroom shouting, “ALVIN!”

Only then did I realize that I had fallen asleep, while sitting on the floor of the shower.

John found me, but at first, he just stood there with the most remarkable expression of puzzlement.

He spoke slowly, as though the words were difficult for him to say, “What are you doing in there?”

I must have cried myself out earlier, because though I felt like I was going to cry, the tears didn’t return.

I sighed heavily, then without looking up I said, “I peed my pants at school!”

“You did what?” He said with shock and awe.

“I peed my pants at school and I didn’t want anyone to see, so I ran all the way home.” I said as my voice cracked. I then pounded my leg with my fist, only I didn’t realize, how much that would hurt.

John surprised me by what he did next. I was expecting to get spanked or at the very least yelled at, but instead he stepped into the still running shower, lowered himself down beside me and hugged me close to him, like he use to when I was little. That is when my tears returned.

When Mom came home, John told her what happened and she didn’t get mad either. As a matter of fact, she came up to my room, crying too. She kept telling me how sorry she was, that it happened and how it would be alright. I didn’t believe it would be alright. Actually, I believed, that by the next morning, it would be all over the school, that I had peed my pants and ran home crying like a baby.

Well, that is partially what happened. Though no one had seen me, most everyone was able to put the clues together in such a way, that by the end of the day, which wasn’t long at all, rumors were running rampant. The one thing all the rumors seemed to have in common, was that I had wet my pants. Some of the rumors were stupid, like I’d attacked a teacher, or that someone had got into the school and kidnapped me.

I did not go down for supper that evening. I just didn’t feel like eating. Living here was bad enough, now I went and made it downright horrendous! Around ten o’clock at night there was a soft tapping at my bedroom door. I was supposed to be in bed sleeping, but I couldn’t sleep and had taken to sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed, with my surfboard lying on the floor in front of me. I had my knees up to my chest and my arms wrapped around my legs, because I was being too stubborn to get up and find something to keep me warmer.

“Come in,” I whimpered.

I’d been expecting it to be Mom or John, but it was neither of them. Instead it was Micah, the cook… uh, I mean chef.

“Micah!?” I asked with genuine surprise.

In her hands, she held a silver tray that contained a plate and glass under a glass dome.

“Micah think Al-ben maybe hungry, so Micah brought Al-ben special treat.” She said, as she pushed the door closed with one foot.

To be honest, I was happier to see her, then the tray of food she brought for me; that was until I saw what she had for me.

“Wow, thanks Micah!” I said.

“Micah think to self, what Al-ben like most for Micah to bring for him. So I bring greatest treat ever in history of all peoples.” She said, squatting down and setting the tray before me.

She lifted the silver dome from the plate to reveal a chilidog with cheese, curly fries and pickle wedges.

“Ah Micah you are the best!” I exclaimed, as I eyed that chilidog like a hungry shark.

“Yes Micah am best! That is why I am Micah!” she said and then chuckled quietly.

She then grabbed my face with both hands. I thought for a second she was going to squeeze my head like a pimple, but she didn’t. Instead, she planted a kiss right between my eyes.

“If Al-ben leave tray by door, Micah get in morning.” She said, patting my cheek.

“Thank you so much Micah!” I said, as she was leaving the room.

I guess, I was hungry, because not only did I eat that entire Chilidog, I also ate every last fry and all of the pickle wedges. I even licked the plate clean! I don’t think I have ever in my life had a Chilidog as good as that one. The cheese, the chili, the dog, they were all so… well, so good!

It wasn’t until I was guzzling down the last of the chocolate milk, that it dawned on me, that Micah had just seen me wearing nothing more than a GoodNite. I didn’t have on a shirt, socks or pants! That little revelation only added to the humiliation that was already coursing through my veins and pounding against the inside of my skull.

Sleep quickly overtook me there on the floor. The following morning I was awakened by Micah, coming in to get the tray.

“Al-ben! Al-ben!” she said, gently shaking my shoulder.

Groggy and yawning I opened one eye and asked, “Is it morning already?”

“Al-ben catch death chill sleepin’ on floor all necked.” She said, but I guess I was still too sleepy; either that or I thought I was dreaming, because I had re-closed my eye and gone back to sleep.

I only awoke again When Mom was pulling my covers off my head and telling me that it was time to get up for school. I was back in my own bed and I could only assume that Micah had put me there.

What was even odder, even after drinking that big glass of the chocolate milk, I hadn’t wet my GoodNite.

“Mom!” I gasped with excitement while leaning against the edge of the bed. “I didn’t wet the sheet last night!”

“Oh Alvin, that is wonderful!” she said and then gave me a congratulatory peck on the cheek.

“Mom?” I said, as the previous day’s events flooded back into my conscious mind.

“Yes sweetheart?” she said while making up my bed.

“I don’t ever want to go back to that school again.” I griped.

“Alvin, I have never known you to run away from a challenge. What sort of mom would I be, if I let you run away from this one?” she said.

“Mom this isn’t a challenge! Surfing is a challenge! Not wetting my sheets is a huge challenge! But going to school today isn’t a challenge; it is going to be everyone in my school laughing at me and making fun of me.” I whined.

“Alvin, even if one or two of the kids find out, in a few days, no one is going to even remember.” She said.

I crowed out with, “Moooom! Something like this will never go away!”

But no matter how much I whined or pleaded, I couldn’t change her mind and I had to go to school. What was worse was that she somehow talked me into wearing a GoodNite to school under my clothes.

Since I hadn’t wet that night I felt that I didn’t need to take a shower, but I did have a wicked case of morning breath. I’m sure, that late night chilidog was partially to blame for my rancid breath.

As I stepped into the bathroom to brush my teeth, I saw a used, yes I mean wet, GoodNite sitting on the vanity counter beside the sink.

That puzzled me to no end and the only conclusion I could come to was, that I must have got up in the middle of the night and changed into a dry GoodNite without remembering that I had done so. Well, so much for my dry night, huh?

I skipped breakfast because I was just too upset about having to go back to school. With every step I took while walking to school, I had to convince myself, that everything was going to be alright. However, once I was within sight of the school, I started to panic, I mean really panic. My heart raced, my breathing was labored, and I felt like at any second I was going to be sick. It felt, like everyone knew that I had the GoodNite on and I kept screaming at my mother inside my mind for talking me into wearing it. Of course, no one could see it, but the irrational mind cannot be made to believe in rational things.

I was sure that everyone I passed was eyeballing me and whispering behind my back. It was probably just my imagination, or at least that is what I kept telling myself all the way to my locker. Then I saw it. Taped on the outside of my locker door, was a piece of notebook paper that read,




Quick as a flash, I ripped the paper off my locker and crumpled it up, but there was nothing I could do about my glowing red face.

As if nothing was out of the ordinary, I spun the combination lock, opened my locker, stuffed my jacket in, and slammed the door closed again.

In those few seconds, I became surrounded by students who were staring at me. I turned to go to class and saw them. When I realized I was cornered there in the hallway, a stab of pain shot through my chest, as if someone had just rammed a wooden stake through my heart. Then it started…

“Does the widdle, bitty, baby need his pee-pee pants changed?” someone mocked.

Someone else then chimed in with, “We better stand back or we might all get pissed on!”

Embarrassment was slowly morphing into unrefined anger, but before I could begin fighting my way free, someone from the far side of the crowd whistled incredibly loud!

Everyone turned on the spot and, as if someone had just yelled fire, the mob of hecklers scattered in every direction, leaving me standing there with my knees knocking together and my back plastered against the row of lockers.

Now I had expected to see a teacher, but what I saw was Larry, BB, Fish, and Bertha. All four stood there, looking tough and firing mental daggers at anyone who dared to look back or hesitate to run away.

Fish came over to me and picked up my books, which I had dropped. I hadn’t even known I had dropped them until he was tucking them under my arm.

Larry glanced to Bertha, and I was beginning to understand, that she was the leader of their little gang. Then she walked up to me, put a hand on my shoulder and smiled.

“Relax,” she said, patting the front of my shoulder once, “We got your back.”

“Huh?” I said.

Bertha gave me a halfcocked head bob of acknowledgement.

“Yeah, anyone messes with you…” there was a smacking sound as BB punched his fist into his hand, “then we’re going to have something to say about it.”

“W-w-why?” I managed to say despite the fact that my tongue didn’t seem to be working properly.

“Would you get this one?” Fish said, sliding his arm around the back of my neck and leaning against me.

“Ah, let him be Fish.” Bertha said, “He’ll snap out of it.”

She then faked a jab to my gut, but I was still frozen with fear, so I didn’t react. “Solid Alvin; solid as a rock!” She patted my cheek, “Hey, we’ll catch you at lunch okay?”

“Uh, yeah sure; lunch. You bet!” I said with a squeak in my voice.

From then 'til lunch, I could see other students gawking at me, even murmuring when they thought I wasn’t looking. But no one said another word to me, good or bad.

At lunch Larry, BB, Fish, and Bertha were standing in the hallway near the entrance to get our food. They were waiting for me and when I came into view, BB called out to me. “Yo Alvin buddy! Over here!”

What could I do at that point? If I turned to walk away, I was dooming myself to three years of Jr. High School teasing. However, if I joined them, I was allying myself with the four most disliked students in the school.

“Hey Alvin! Come on! We saved you a place in line!” BB called out again. He then turned and shoved some kid out of line.

The decision was made for me; I had become the fifth… what had Stacks called them? Hooligans?

By the end of the day, the word had spread all over the school that I was hanging out with Larry, BB, Fish, and Bertha. Even when they were not with me, everyone cleared away from me, as if Bertha’s odiferous aura had somehow spread to me.

After school, as I was getting my jacket from my locker, BB and Fish came up to me.

Fish spoke first, “So you doing better?”

Knowing the reason they had become so chummy with me, still caused me to flush red, but still I answered with an unconvincing, “Yeah.”

“Oh yeah, that sounded positive!” BB joked, giving me a playful shove.

“So, no one has been teasing you or leaving any more notes, right?” Fish asked, while pointing an accusing finger in my face.

I shook my head.

“Good, because I just got these new gloves and I don’t want to get them all bloody. You know what I mean?” He said with a laugh and a backhanded slap to my arm.

“So you’ll be back tomorrow?” BB asked in a way, which made it sound more like an order then a question.

I hesitantly nodded.

“We’ll see you then!” Fish said, slapping my bicep.

While walking home from school, I didn’t see or sense anyone. And believe me; I was keeping a keen eye out for anyone or anything remotely suspicious.

At home, I was greeted at the door by my Grandmother, who promptly asked me, “How did your day go?”

The second I saw her, I was overwhelmed with feelings of guilt for the way I had dumped on her just one day before. I didn’t answer her right away. However, I began to apologize profusely for my tantrum and the horrible language I had used.

She embraced me and hugged me tightly to her. “You are a very good boy and I knew you were just reacting to a terrible situation.” She said.

Then, taking hold of my hand, she asked again, “But how did today go?”

So I told her exactly what happened. I told her about the note on my locker, about being called names and then about, how four of the students came to my rescue. I did however leave out the part about those four students being the most feared bullies in the school.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 10

The following Monday, while walking to school, I spotted someone walking around the back of the school, which kind of looked like… I mean, I’d only seen him from a distance before. However, I thought maybe he was the same kid who had been spying on me last week.

That particular day in English class, I got in trouble, because I had done the wrong homework assignment. My teacher had instructed me, that at the end of the school day, I was to return to class. I nearly forgot too; I mean, I was on my way out the front doors when I remembered. Boy, I would hate to think what would have happened if I hadn’t showed up.

As it turned out, my teacher only gave me a warning and said that I had to turn in the missing assignment the follow day before the start of school or I would get an automatic failing grade on the assignment. She also said that if it happens again, then I would lose a full letter grade for each day that an assignment is late. Boy, I was relieved, because I was expecting to have to do lines or stay for detention or something like that. Actually, I had already completed the assignment during math class, but I wasn’t going to tell my teacher that. I decided to wait until the following morning to hand it in.

Therefore, I was a little late leaving school and when I walked out of the doors, there was maybe seven or ten students left out there. I slung my backpack over my right shoulder and started for home. Sure enough, as I neared that point where I’d sensed someone watching me before, I saw that same boy. However, this time he wasn’t even trying to hide himself from me. He was leaning against that same tree and looking in the opposite direction. I guess, he was wondering where I was or how he had missed seeing me today. Anyway, I decided that it was time to confront him. I ducked low and did a sort of duck walk behind the parked cars until I reached a point where I could cross the street with very little chance of being seen. Once on his side, I found it more difficult to sneak up on him, as there wasn’t as much cover to duck behind.

I was less than thirty feet away, hiding behind a large metal trashcan that smelled like old pee. I pinched my nose closed and gave him a quick scan. He was wearing blue jeans with the knees torn out, that same jersey shirt I’d seen him in before and dark colored shoes. He seemed to be watching intently toward the other direction, as if he expected me to come from that way.

As I stood up to try to get closer, I accidentally bumped the trashcan with my knee. The boy heard me, looked right at me and then took off running in the opposite direction.

I didn’t chase after him because I had got close enough to see his face clearly. I was right, I had seen him that morning going behind the school and now that I had his face in my head, it was just a matter of time before I would spot him at school.

However, I didn’t see him at school or after school for a long time and believe me I was trying to. I even asked a couple of my teachers if they knew who he was, but from my description, they didn’t have a clue as to his identity.

Then on a Sunday, while I was sitting out front of my Grandparents house, waxing my surfboard for the zillionth time, I heard a twig snap. I looked up and there he was, standing less than twenty feet from me. He was looking right at me, leaning on a hockey stick and sucking on a lollipop.

At first, I didn’t say anything. I think I was somewhat shocked to see, that he had finally got up the nerve to approach me.

He was wearing blue jeans again, with the knees ripped out and that same jersey, which had the name CHRIS across the front in large midnight blue, Roman style block letters.

“Hi,” I said.

He gave me a jerk of his head as a greeting.

“You Chris?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Cool, I’m Alvin.” I said.

Chris looked up at the front of my grandparent’s big home as though he was studying it.

“It’s my grandparent’s house. My parents and I are staying with them. We just moved here.” I said.

Chris only shrugged.

“So do you talk much?” I asked.

Chris again shrugged and then nodded, causing the stick of his sucker to bob up and down like a music conductor’s baton.

He looked at me intently, then to his hockey stick and then back to me. I got the feeling that he was asking if I played hockey.

“No, never played.” I patted my surfboard, “Surfing’s my thing.” I said and when I said it, I felt a twinge of longing in my heart to hit the waves again. I’d been feeling that way for a while now and it didn’t seem to be going away. Actually, it was getting so bad that I was dreaming about surfing nearly every night now.

Chris surprised me, when he timidly walked up to me, knelt down and placed a single finger on my board.

“You ever do any surfing?” I asked.

Chris shook his head slightly.

“My folks and I used to live in California, not too far from the ocean. I used to surf all the time, but here I can’t, because the water is too cold.” I said solemnly.

Chris stood back up, waved and walked away.

“Ok, now that was weird!” I said aloud, once Chris was out of earshot.

The following morning, as I was walking to school, who came walking up behind me? Yep you guessed it, Chris.

“Good morning.” I yawned.

Chris gave me a small wave and half a grin. He then yawned really big too, which caused me to yawn again. Chris gave a silent chuckle at that.

“So you live close by?” I asked.

Chris simply shrugged and pointed over his shoulder.

I stopped dead and put it right out there, “Come on, what’s the deal? Why haven’t you said anything?”

Chris got a concerned look on his face and gently shook his head.

“Wait, can’t you talk?” I asked.

Chris shook his head.

“You can talk?” I asked next.

Chris nodded.

“But you don’t want to talk?” I felt, like I was getting somewhere with him.

Chris shook his head.

“Okay, that didn’t make any sense!” I said, not really meaning for it to be so abrupt.

Chris shrugged and gave me a bit of a reassuring smile. I shrugged too and we then continued on to school. As we neared school, Chris waved as he jogged away and was lost in the sea of students spilling off the school buses like water over a waterfall.

Sure enough, I found Chris leaning against the same tree after school, but this time we saw each other simultaneously. However, he didn’t run away or try to hide. Instead, he smiled and waited for me to cross over to his side of the street.

“Hey, how was school?” I asked.

Chris shrugged and grimaced.

“Yeah, same here.” I said, not really knowing what Chris’s grimace had meant.

“Boy, I hate how much homework they give us here. It’s all I can do to keep up.” I said, as the two of us walked toward my grandparent’s.

When we reached the point that I had to turn left toward home, Chris gave me a smile and a wave, as he continued walking in the same general direction we had been heading.

As I walked into the house, I was greeted by my mom.

“Mom, you’re home!” I exclaimed.

“I took the afternoon off.” She said, “I thought maybe you and I could spend some time together.”

“Yeah!” I said enthusiastically and then, the realization that I had so much homework to do, settled in on me.

“But, I have tons and tons of homework today.” I sulked.

“Oh, well,” I could tell that she was thinking, “how about if you do it when we get back?” She finally offered.

“Really?” I said, surprised that she would offer something like that.

“Yeah! Where are we going?” I asked.

“Well, go put your things in your room, get changed into something nice and then we’ll go.” Mom said.

“Yeah, but where?” I asked impatiently.

Mom gave me a mysterious expression as she said, “You’ll see.”

I started to run to my room, but I had remembered that the day before, I had another run in with Grandfather while I was running up the stairs. He had lectured me for nearly ten minutes about running in the house, before letting me continue toward the bathroom to relieve my aching bowels.

Walking quick, but not running, I scurried up the steps and made it to the room I was staying in. I quickly kicked off my shoes and had my shirt and pants off nearly before my shoes hit the floor. I think I got redressed and back downstairs in less than three minutes, but Mom wasn’t where I had left her. I waited around for five minutes, then ten and then, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, I went looking for her. I found her in the front room talking with Grandmother, who seemed to be really upset about something.

Now, there was no way I wanted to be seen. I’d already learned that when Grandmother is upset, everyone around her gets pulled into it too. So, I did a hasty retreat, back out the way I came in, without being noticed.

It was nearly ten minute before Mom came back out of the room, looking harassed and hot under the collar.

“Alvin, sweetheart I’m sorry, but we’ll have to plan on going another day. I am sorry.” was all she said, as she crossed the foyer and disappeared around the backside of the steps. From the direction she was headed, I could only guess that she was heading back to the huge multi car garage to return to work.

Though I hadn’t actually heard what was being said I could guess that Grandmother must have chewed Mom out for taking time off from work.

Now I was mad. Since we moved here I hadn’t seen much of my Mom or John except at meal times or when they would come to my room late to help me get ready for bed. The opportunity to spend some time with Mom sounded so good, but now that it had been snatched away from us both, I was really ticked.

Since I already had my jacket on, I decided, that I didn’t care if my homework was done or not. In a huff, I stormed out the front door, purposefully leaving it standing wide open.

I had walked with no real direction. So I was a bit surprised when I found myself at the entrance to that same community park I’d been in a few days ago. If I haven’t told you already, it is called Memorial Gardens Park and though I hadn’t been in it yet save for the jogging track, I had looked from the entrance gate and knew, that it had a nice cobblestone walkway that leads to a wishing fountain. There are also some swings and a lame metal slide. It even has a nice wooded area, which I’d been itching to explore.

As I was entering the park, I met up with Chris, who was coming out carrying his hockey stick again. Only this time, he looked like he’d just been swimming. He was soaked from head to toe and boy he looked mad.

I greeted him with a dull, “Hey Chris. Everything alright?”

He jumped sideways in surprise and dropped his hockey stick. The look he gave me was as if I had just sprouted fangs and bat wings from my ears.

“Whoa dude! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” I said, reaching out for him, but he shied away from me as if I were some stranger.

“Hey, you okay?” I asked and then I saw recognition in his eyes.

“What? Didn’t you know it was me?” I asked with a jovial chuckle.

He shook his head hard and bent over to get his hockey stick. When he straightened back up, he looked really scared again.

“Yo Chris, it’s just me, Alvin.” I said, motioning toward myself with both hands.

With no warning at all, Chris took off running as fast as he could, back into the park. I had the horrible feeling, that something was really wrong with Chris so I ran after him. But boy, he is fast! Faster than I am and I lost him as he entered the wooded area.

“Chris!” I shouted and then listened for him, but there wasn’t a single sound. Not even the sound of crunching dead leaves and then I realized that there wasn’t even any sound from the trees overhead, or the wind that I could see was obviously blowing through the golden brown leaves.

An icy chill crept up my spine and goose bumps sprouted all over my arms.

“Listen, I’m sorry I startled you!” I shouted again into the gathering of trees, “I really didn’t mean too!”

But, there was no reply, no sound at all and I was getting seriously creeped out.

I had been feeling really bad before bumping into Chris, now I felt even worse. Have you ever got that feeling inside; like you’re going to cry, but you don’t actually cry? And no matter how much you try to cry, it just won’t come? Well, that’s how I felt, as I dragged my feet across the grass and fallen leaves. Not really meaning to, I had made my way to the wishing fountain and sat down on the edge. I looked up into the trees and noticed that once more, I could hear the wind as it caused the autumn leaves to dance.

The wishing fountain is a big round fountain, with only a couple inches of slimy green water from the decaying leaves, which had fallen into it. The pool part of the fountain is made of stones, cemented together and in the middle of the fountain is a statue of a Fawn. A Fawn is a mythical being, which looks to be human from the waist up and has the lower half of a goat, with hoofs and tail. What I found particularly surprising was the fact, that the Fawn is anatomically correct, if you get my drift. Moreover, it is a male Fawn. The male fountain statue I think is made of bronze and is playing a long flute like instrument, which resembled the shape of the letter ‘Y’. However, instead of music coming out of the flute, a few small droplets of water dripped out and fell into the pool below.

I stood back up, dug down into the pocket of my pants and found a quarter. I gave it a squeeze in my fist, then held it up to my mouth and whispered, “I wish we could move back to California.” Then, with the flip of my thumb the coin arced through the air, but didn’t fall into the fountain’s pool. Instead, it sailed up and landed on the fawns left shoulder.

“Ah rats!” I grumbled as I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and walked away feeling as though I’d been cheated out of my wish.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 11

The following morning I had expected Chris to catch up and walk with me to school, but he didn’t make an appearance. As a matter of fact, I didn’t see him at all for several days and I was really starting to get concerned, not just because of what had happened in the park, but because, except for Chris, I didn’t have anyone else that I considered a true friend. Oh sure, I have my hoodlum buddies, but I wouldn’t call them friends. Then again, I’m not sure I can call Chris a friend, since he’d never once said a single word to me and the only times I ever saw him was when walking to and from school or the occasional unexpected meeting around the neighborhood or in the park.

After a while, I started asking around about him. No one seemed to know him or remember ever seeing someone matching his description. I even asked the lunch lady who seems to know everyone by name, but even she shrugged her shoulders at my inquiry. It was as if Chris didn’t really exist, except in my own head and to be honest, I was even having my own doubts about his existence.

I think it was like two weeks after I saw him in the park when I spotted him again. He was leaning against that same tree I had seen him at so many times before.

For a second or two I wondered if I should approach him. I mean, what if all this time he had been avoiding me for some reason? In the end, I crossed the street and made my way to the tree. To my immense relief, Chris flashed me a big welcoming smile when he’d seen me approaching.

“Hey,” I said, trying not to come off to strong.

He gave me a happy little nod and patted the ground next to him to indicate, that he wanted me to sit with him.

“Been looking for you the past couple weeks, but you didn’t seem to be anywhere around.” I said.

He picked up a fallen leaf as he nodded knowingly.

“Sorry about scaring you in the park that one day.” I said apologetically.

He shrugged and waved me off as if to say, “Don’t give it a second thought Alvin.” I took that as his way of saying, that everything was cool between us. And yet I still couldn’t help wondering where the heck he had been for the last couple of weeks and why no one seemed to know anything about him.

“Hey, want to come over?” I asked, trying to break the silence between us. “I just got a new comic book! It’s the latest edition of the Fantastic 4.”

To my delight, Chris smiled, picked up his hockey stick and the two of us walked toward my grandparents.

Like happens most days when I arrived home, there wasn’t anyone to greet me. Oh sure, I knew one or maybe both of my grandparents were around somewhere, but they rarely welcomed me home from a hard day at school.

Chris seemed to be in awe of my grandparents’ enormous home. His eyes seemed to dart this way and that, while trying to take it all in. I led him to the room I was staying in, tossed my backpack on the floor and he dropped his hockey stick beside it. Chris didn’t seem too interested in my latest copy of the Fantastic 4 comic. He had produced a spiral notebook. I hadn’t seen him with it before, so I assumed he had it rolled up in his back pocket or something. He plopped down on the floor near the foot of my bed, gave me a wink and buried his face in his notebook. Whatever it was he was reading, it seemed to interest him, so I sat across from him and reread my comic book for like the tenth time.

After a while, Chris stood up, grabbed his hockey stick, laid it across his chest with the end of the handle resting on top of his left foot and gave me another wink.

“You need to go home now?” I asked and he nodded that he did.

“Okay, I’ll show you the way out.” I said as I tossed my comic onto my bed.

As Chris was walking away from the house, I called out, “See you tomorrow on the way to school?”

Chris turned, nodded kind of goofily and waved sort of like he was trying to clear the fog from a window pain.

As he slipped out of sight I shouted, “Cool, see ya then buddy!”

At supper that night, John struck up a conversation with me. That rarely happened at the table, because, as I said before, my grandparents are firm believers, that kids shouldn’t be seen or heard.

“So Alvin, how has school been?” John asked.

I was a little caught off guard by the question, but I quickly recovered, “Huh, oh yeah, it’s mostly okay.” I said while trying to cut my chicken breast. It took me a second or two to realize I was using the wrong side of the knife.

“Making lots of friends, I expect?” John said, even though he knew I hadn’t been.

I shook my head, “Nah, just one. I got a few school buds I hang out with between classes, but just the one friend.”

“You have a new friend?” Mom asked a little too loudly and excitedly.

I nodded since I’d just jammed a large bite of chicken into my mouth. I chewed several times and swallowed part of it before I responded.

“Yeah, he came over after school today for a while.” I said, reaching for my glass of water.

I caught Grandmother gazing at me disapprovingly. Apparently she didn’t like the fact that I’d brought a stranger into her house.

“Does this boy have a name?” John asked after taking a sip of whatever it was he was drinking. I knew it wasn’t water because it wasn’t clear.

I nodded again, “Chris.”

I guzzled down another gulp of water as Mom asked me, “What’s his last name?”

“Uh,” I stalled out, realizing that I didn’t have a clue what Chris’s last name was. “I don’t know.” I said honestly.

Realizing, how that must have sounded, I quickly injected the conversation with, “We walk back and forth from school most days. He’s a really nice guy and he’s real quiet.”

Grandfather finally spoke up and what he had to say was actually relevant to the conversation. Well, mostly. “You have to watch out for the quiet ones.”

Mom tried not to let Grandfather see her smile, as she stuffed her mouth with a chunk of German Seasoned Tomato.

I hazarded another glance Grandmother’s way. She still was looking displeased with the conversation, but she didn’t stop us.

Trying to be cute, I said to Grandfather, “I bet you would like him Grandfather.”

“What? Why do you say that, boy?” Grandfather asked with what I took to be genuine surprise.

“He doesn’t make any noise. He doesn’t talk at all.” I said.

Grandmother seemed to find her voice, because she sat down her glass and, directing her words right at me, said, “You could learn a thing or two from that boy.”

Oh, I so wanted to come back with, “You trying to say something over there granny?”, but I knew better. That, and I kind of like my head attached to my body; thank you very much!

Mom didn’t seem to give Grandmother any notice at all, because she went right on talking with me. “You’ll have to bring him by again sometime and let us meet him.” She said.

“Okay!” I said, “I’ll see if he wants to.”

“Is he deaf?” John asked.

I shook my head, “No, he can hear me fine. He just doesn’t like to talk, I guess.”

And that was the end of our conversation, as the five of us finished our meal in silence.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 12

That night, as John was helping me get ready for bed, actually, he was just sitting on my bed as I pulled on my GoodNite, he told me something that nearly made me scream with joy.

“Your mother and I have been invited to spend the weekend out of town and we thought you might like to come along.” He said coyly.

“Where?” I asked.

“To your friend Joey’s, up in Canada.” he said so smoothly, that it took an entire half-second for it, to sink in.

Excited? Um, maybe just a bit. My entire body began to tremble so much so, that it made John laugh. I was hopping around the room, wearing nothing more than my GoodNite and chanting over and over, “I get to see Joey again! I get to see Joey again!”

I hopped all the way around the room and hopped right into Johns arms.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?” he chuckled and tickled me under my arms.

Laughing, I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Uh, breathe!” he joked and blew in my face.

“Oh my gosh!” I gasped, “Please, say you are serious!” I grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him, “S-A-Y I-T!”

John laughed harder, “We were thinking about leaving this Friday.”

“After school?” I asked.

“No, we’ll need to leave earlier than that.” John said.

“How would you feel about missing school on Friday so that we can get an early start?”


“I’ll take that as a yes too.” John laughed again.

I was so charged that I leapt off his lap and began to once again jump up and down, while punching my fists into the air triumphantly.

“Are we going to stay all weekend?” I asked.

“I think, we’ll drive up Friday and get back home Sunday evening.” He said, trying to get me to stand still while he pulled my pajama bottoms up.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! This is sooo great!” I squealed as he gave my pajamas a final tug.

The following morning John told me right as I was leaving for school that He and Mom decided instead of waiting to leave Friday night, we’d be leaving Thursday after school and after they got home from work. Of course all this did was make me even more excited as I raced out of the house and ran half way to school. I’d of probably run the whole way there had I not met up with Chris near the park. I told Chris the good news, but he didn’t seem too happy for me.

“Don’t worry! I’ll be back before School starts on Monday. I promise!” I said, faking like I was going to give him a push.

That seemed to appease him and we continued on to school. As always, when we got onto school grounds, Chris went his way while I went mine.

“You know, someday I need to ask him why he always enters the school from around back.” I said to myself.

During school, I managed to get a few minutes to slip into the school library, so that I could email Joey and let him know we were coming. I was shocked, when he replied within minutes that his Mom had told him about it that very morning. We started making plans via email for everything we were going to do that weekend. Of course, we would need a month to do it all, but it helped make the remainder of the week almost bearable.

After school on Thursday, I waited around a couple of minutes for Chris to show up, but he never came out of school. I figured that he probably got held behind by one of his teachers, so I took off running for my grandparents instead.

When I got there, of course, Mom and John were not home yet, but I hadn’t expected them to be. I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to run in the house as I ran up the stairs and into my room. I think I did all of my weekend homework in less than an hour. I probably did a lot of it wrong, but at least it was done, so that I wouldn’t have to worry about it over the weekend.

Now, I hadn’t noticed when I came in, that there was a suitcase lying on my bed. Except when I had to sleep, I usually didn’t bother with my bed, because it just wasn’t very comfortable to me. I spend most of my time sitting on the floor, to do my schoolwork or if it is cold, I’ll pull the comforter off the bed and spread it out on the floor. I’m sure, if my grandparents knew I did that, they would have a fit.

I really started getting excited, when it was getting close to the time my parents usually came home, but they surprised me by getting home about half an hour earlier than normal.

Mom came into the room, looking tired, but happy to be getting away for a few of days.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked and I sprang to my feet.

“Don’t we need to pack?” I asked.

“I already packed all your things this morning.” She said, pointing to the black suitcase lying on my bed.

“Oh!” I said, scratching my head and wondering, how I missed that big thing.

John appeared in the doorway and said, “I’ll get that honey.” And Mom kissed his cheek as he passed her.

“I am soooo excited!” I said, pulling at the front of my shirt.

John took the suitcase and disappeared again.

“Okay, let’s get you ready for the trip, so we can get going before traffic gets too heavy.” Mom said.

“Huh?” I grunted, because didn’t she just say, that she had already packed all my stuff?

When she opened the doors to the armoire, I realized just what she had in mind. There, on the top shelf, was a brand new package of … GULP … diapers!

“Ah Mom! No! I don’t need…”, but I didn’t get to finish.

She stopped me with, “Alvin, you wear them every night and wore them halfway across the country. Wearing a diaper for a few hours in the car isn’t going to kill you.”

“But Moooom!” I whined.

Then she did something that really was mean. She blackmailed me. “Well, if you would rather stay here with your grandparents, while your father and I have a nice weekend in Canada, then be my guest.”

She acted like she was going to leave the room and I guess I felt like there was too much of a chance that she was serious.

“Moooom! That’s not fair!” I griped, but in the end, she won out.

I removed my pants and underwear and then assumed the position on the floor. Mom clad me in a disposable diaper and then helped me to get redressed in relatively quick order.

“There, now we’re ready!” she announced, as she pulled the front of my shirt back down and helped me to my feet.

“Your father should have the car out front, waiting for us by now.” She said, patting me on my diapered bottom and kissing my cheek. I couldn’t help noticing that when she swatted my bottom that the diaper seemed to crinkle a lot more then I remembered them doing before.

Walking down the stairs proved rather difficult in a thick disposable diaper and I had to hang onto the stair railing to get down. As I stepped out the front door, all I was thinking about was, the great time I was going to have at Joey’s. So, when I saw Chris standing in the middle of the front lawn, holding his hockey stick, I nearly dropped dead of a heart attack right then and there. I just knew he could see that I was wearing a diaper under my pants. He probably couldn’t, but that’s not what my irrational mind was telling me.

Chris waved at me and I froze, which caused Mom to nearly knock me over, as she closed the door behind us.

“Alvin, don’t stop right on the stoop! Go get in the car.” I looked back at Mom, as I waddled a couple steps forward, to keep from being trampled. When I looked back to Chris, he was running away, toward the corner of the street.

“See you Monday Chris!” I shouted and he turned to wave, before disappearing around the corner of the street.

Mom gave me a shove, “Come on Alvin!” she said, sounding mildly irritated.

“Mom did you see him? That was my friend Chris I told you about.” I said.

“Where honey?” She said, looking around.

“He just left, over there.” I said, pointing in the general direction of the street corner.

“Sorry sweetie, I didn’t see him. Oh well, get in the car, please.” She said hoisting her purse strap back up on her shoulder.

With Chris gone, I figured, it was best to limit my exposure to any other possible on lookers, so I put on a bit of speed, ran as best I could wearing the diaper and with a final leap, I flew into the backseat superman style. However, I failed to take into account that my dear old dad had covered the backseat with heavy clear plastic. Nothing that followed resembled anything Superman might do. I slid across the seat and collided with the door on the other side of the car, with my hands and head first and the rest of me crumpling up behind them. I ended up backwards and upside-down, with my head partially wedged under the driver’s seat, along with my entire left arm while my diapered butt stuck up in the air and my feet just sort of swayed precariously above me.

What was Mom’s response? “Alvin, stop fooling around and get yourself buckled in.”

Luckily, I didn’t get hurt. Well, except for my pride and the top of my head, which was kind of tender for a minute or two, after I righted myself.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 13

I don’t know why, but the road trip to Joey’s was as boring as it could possibly be. It seemed like it took three times longer to get there, then it should have. I’m guessing that we were nearing the halfway point about 11:00 PM when I started to feel the need to pee and at first, I dismissed it, but it kept returning until I finally sighed and silently gave into it. Initially, I felt kind of stupid for wetting my diaper while sitting there in the backseat, but that feeling didn’t last too long. However, about thirty minutes later, the other feeling arose.

“Mom?” I asked timidly.

“What do you need sweetie?” she asked from the front passenger seat.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” I moaned.

John piped up, “Alvin, you’re wearing your bathroom! Just go pee! That’s why I had your mother put you into a diaper before we left, so we wouldn’t have to stop every fifteen minutes.”

“I already peed, now I need to do number two!” I said with more than just a little whining note to my voice.

Neither of them offered any rebuttal so I sat there grumbling to myself, “Every fifteen minutes?! I don’t need to go every fifteen minutes!”

“But I need to go number two!” I whined loudly hoping they would get the idea that I was in dire distress.

No longer able to just ignore me, Mom gave John a look which he returned. Whatever that silent message between them was, I didn’t care. I needed to poop and I needed them to pull the car over.

“Please, can we stop?” I begged.

“You can either go now or hold it 'til we get there.” Mom said with finality.

“How long is that going to be?” I asked with an even louder whimper.

“It’s going to be a while yet.” John answered.

“How long is a while?” I moaned.

Ten minutes passed and the feeling only intensified. I kept thinking to myself, that I should have gone to the bathroom before we left, but I hadn’t thought to do so. Besides, isn’t it a parent’s responsibility to remind their kids to go potty, before leaving the house?

Fifteen more minutes went by and my stomach was cramping so bad that I knew there was no way I could hold it much longer.

I saw a sign that read ‘Rest Area - 2 Miles’.

“There’s a rest stop, John! Please can we please stop?” I implored.

“Oh, fine then!” John surrendered while impatiently thumping the wheel with his thumbs.

We passed the sign that read, ‘Rest Area - Next Right’ and that’s when it happened. I’m talking about an explosion that would have rivaled the Big Bang, which gave birth to the universe. Yeah that’s right; I just created a whole new universe in the back of my diaper! Who’s to say that isn’t how our universe was created? Maybe some ancient being took a gigundous dump into his or her diaper and that’s how we all came to be. When my butt cheeks parted, to give way to the pressures within my bowls, it was so loud and so powerful, that I swear it felt as though I was lifted off the backseat seat. And if I hadn’t been wearing my seatbelt, I probably would have been blasted right through the car roof.

“Oh!” John said with a blasting laugh, “You know that had to hurt!”

“Oh son of a…” I started to cuss, but was cut off by Mom.

Her head quickly snapped around and she shouted, “Alvin Colton Holloway! Don’t you dare use that kind of language or so help me.”

I was so humiliated and so angry that tears began to well up in my eyes, “See! I told you I had to go!” I blinked and the tears managed to escape my eyes and began flowing down my cheek as if they were raging rivers, “Why didn’t you just stop!”

“Alvin, now there’s absolutely nothing to cry about. You’ve got on a diaper and your mother will help you get cleaned up and into a nice clean diaper.” John said, as he steered the car into a parking space.

“Why do I have to be the one to change him?” Mom scoffed and chuckled at the same time, “I do believe that the diaper was your idea?” she said to him.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny!” I screamed at the two of them, as I gave myself over to my emotions.

What happened next was the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me!

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 14

Mad and crying, I fumbled with my seatbelt, but I couldn’t get the dang thing to let me go. While I had been trying to free myself, Mom calmly got out, walked around the front of the car and opened the back drivers’ side door where I was sitting, pounding on the seatbelt buckle with my fist. When the door opened I froze, expecting to get smacked or something, but Mom simply and calmly leaned in to help me with the seatbelt.

She didn’t get upset with me or scold me. She simply took my hand and helped me out of the car. Standing beside the car it felt like I had a brick in the back of my pants and though they weren’t falling off, I still felt like I needed to hold onto the waistband of my pants. Mom reached back into the car again, to retrieve her purse. That is when I saw inside it and knew that it wasn’t a purse. It was a diaper bag made up for me!

“Wait Mom! No, please don’t!” I said under the direst of knowing, that she intended to drag me off to the rest stop bathroom to change my diaper and get me cleaned up. Worse yet, I knew that she had no intention of taking me into the guy’s bathroom, but into the … ‘GULP’ … ladies bathroom!!!

“Mom, can’t you do it right here?” I pleaded as though I were pleading for her to spare my life.

“Alvin! Go with your Mother!” John said vehemently, and for all practical purposes, he’d sealed my doom.

All the way up the walk to the doors of the Rest Stop building I pleaded with her not to take me into the ladies bathroom, but she seemed to have gone completely deaf. She held my wrist so tightly, that it hurt, as she dragged me along behind her.

Before we reached the main door into the rest stop, I had another rear blowout. It wasn’t nearly as loud or violent as the first one had been, but it was loud enough that two teenaged girls, who were standing by the doors, heard it and began giggling and pointing at me.

I looked up at the fluffy white clouds and prayed a quick silent prayer, “Dear God, if you really love me, then kill me now!”

God must have been out golfing or was busy looking after someone else, because he didn’t stop Mom from dragging me all the way into the ladies room.

You know, I’ve always been told women are cleaner and their bathrooms are always nice. I am here to tell you, that is not the case at all. The floor was sticky, the sinks looked like some kind of biology experiment had gone very wrong and then there was the smell. Okay, granted I didn’t smell like a field of springtime daisies, but come on, even I didn’t smell as bad as that bathroom did.

To my horror, as we walked in, there were at least a dozen or more women in the bathroom and probably twice that many younger girls of every age. There were even a few very young boys in there, but none were even close to my age.

As we walked in, a girl who looked to be seven or eight, squealed and shouted, “Mommy there is a boy in here!” and then jumped into the only unoccupied stall.

Every eye in the place turned in our direction, but Mom ignored them all as she opened the diaper changing station. I hadn’t noticed her doing that, because I was too busy having a full-on brain aneurysm. Of course, I’m exaggerating a little, but not by much.

However, I think I really lost it when Mom sang out like she was Mary Poppins’, “Come on my sweet, sweet boy. Let momma help you up.”

My face, my ears, even my neck felt hot, as my heart went into overdrive to pump every ounce of blood in my body up to my head.

I heard another girl say, “Mommy look, I think that boy is wearing a diaper.” I can only assume that it was her mother who said, “Cindy, it’s not nice to point and stare at disabled people.”

“Disabled people?” I thought, “I’m not disabled!”

Mom strained to lift me up to the changing table, but I was too heavy for her. “Alvin sweaty, you need to help mommy.” She said, but she might as well have saved her breath, because I’d checked out of my body and was floating somewhere near the ceiling.

Looking down on the scene, a woman with an infant on her back in one of those baby-backpack things began speaking to Mom, but I couldn’t hear what either of them said. Mom smiled at the lady and the two of them lifted my trembling body and laid it on the changing table. When the lady started helping Mom to take off my pants, I began screaming down at them, but then again since I wasn’t in my body they couldn’t hear me.

From my vantage point, I could see everyone in the bathroom, except for the ones in the stalls. Boy, I am so glad I couldn’t see that! Some of the women and children didn’t even bother to hide the fact that they were staring, as Mom and that stranger pulled open my diaper. Others at least had the decency to try to act like they weren’t watching, as Mom exposed my poop covered diaper area.

Several occupants of the bathroom ran out, when they were slapped in the face by the horrible stench, which had been released when my diaper was opened.

The girl, that had first seen me, had only just opened the stall door and stepped out when the smell overtook her. She puffed out her cheeks and her face turned a sickening green color as she quickly cupped both hands over her mouth. She turned back into the stall and I can only assume that she blew chunks.

Oddly enough, it was at that very moment, that I was suddenly sucked back into my body. I’m not sure why it was at that instant; that I went back into my body other than the fact that Mom had started to wipe my private parts clean while the lady held my legs up and apart.

When I turned my head toward the wall in an effort to hide my eyes from all the lurkers, I noticed, that the back of the diaper changing station was mirrored. Whose brilliant idea was it to put a mirror inside a baby changing station? What purpose could it possibly serve? No really, I’m asking, because I don’t have a clue!

Anyway, instead of finding a small place to hide my humiliation, I found the reflection of a teenaged girl looking right into my reflected eyes. When our eyes locked, she smiled and winked at me. No kidding, she honestly winked. I quickly slammed my eyelids shut, not because the girl winked at me, but because Mom had thrust her hand, wrapped with a baby wipe, between my butt cheeks.

“Alvin, relax your bottom!” Mom sang, and maybe it was my imagination, but it sounded like her words echoed around the bathroom for an eternity. Apparently, I had been clenching my butt cheeks together without my knowing I was doing it.

“Alvin!” Mom said, snapping her fingers only inches from my nose. I don’t know where she got the idea of snapping her fingers at me, but it was getting old really fast.

I turned my head to look at her.

“Please stop tightening up your bottom. Momma can’t get you clean otherwise. You don’t want a rash do you?” she said as if she were doing nothing more than tying my shoes or combing my hair. If it was possible, I think I grew even more embarrassed. It felt, as if someone was inside my head, pressing on the back of my eyeballs in an effort to escape.

I think time jumped forward from there, either that or I blacked out for a while, because the next thing I knew, that strange lady, who had been assisting Mom was tugging my pants back up on me. I opened my eyes and saw that Mom was standing between my feet, stuffing the diapering supplies back into the makeshift diaper bag which she had made up for the trip.

“Jessica, I can’t thank you enough for your help.” I heard Mom saying, as the lady helped me down off the changing station.

“Oh, like I said, I’ve got my two at home still in diapers. They’re just about his age too.” The lady said, as she crossed over to the sink to wash her hands.

Leaving me standing next to the open station, Mom went over to the sinks too.

“Could I get you to write down that number for me?” Mom said to her.

A lady with one of the young boys walked out past us and as she did she shot me a hateful expression of disgust. I was feeling like I couldn’t take much more humiliation, but it wasn’t over yet. We still had to get out of that ladies room and back to the car and hopefully soon.

Mom and that lady turned back toward me, as another girl came walking past me. She looked to be maybe twelve years old and in her own way she was kind of pretty. She surprised all of us, but especially me, when she stopped to slip a small note in my hand and then pat me on the head like I was some dang mutt. Any other time, I would have probably knocked her hand away, but I was still paralyzed with fear and humiliation, so I just stood there like an idiot, until Mom started herding me out the door.

As I exited the building and the sun caressed my face it was as though I had just emerged from a long dark tunnel. I squinted at the bright light and cupped my hands over my eyes to shade them. That’s when I saw the bit of paper in my hand.

I looked back at Mom, but she wasn’t there. Apparently she hadn’t left the bathroom after all. Seizing the moment, I unfolded the paper and read what the girl had scribbled onto the paper. I had to read it four times before it dawned on me, that it was a website address…

w w w . i l d . c o m

The door behind me opened again and fearing that it was Mom, I quickly wadded up the paper and stuffed it into my pants pocket. I then promptly forgot all about that dang note, because of what happened next.

It wasn’t Mom coming out, it was some oriental lady with five, count them, five girls of about six or seven years of age. What was remarkable about them was the fact that, all five of the girls looked exactly the same; from their long jet-black hair, slanted eyes and yellowish-pink skin, to their identical outfits of red shirts with snow white skirts. Now, I’ve seen twins and even triplets, but never have I seen… uh… what do you call five identical people? One thing is for sure, I hadn’t seen them in the bathroom, so I don’t know where they came from.

As the woman with her five indistinguishable daughters passed me, the last one turned her head and locked her eyes on me. I guess instinct took over, because without thinking about it, I smiled at her, but she didn’t return my smile. Instead, she asked in a very clear and extremely loud voice, “Momma, why is that boy wearing a diaper?”

Someone screamed and I realized that someone was me. I was running toward our car, screaming like… well, like a little girl. John, who had been leaning against the car, heard me screaming and ran to meet me, but instead of jumping into his arms, I ducked past him. I didn’t stop running until I reached our car, wrenched open the door and dove in, out of sight of everyone. I slid on the plastic like I’d done before, but not as far or as painfully. I laid myself down on the seat to keep anyone from seeing me through the car windows.

You know, Mom and John didn’t even ask me why I ran screaming to the car. Maybe they guessed why, or maybe they just don’t care that my soul was just scarred for all of eternity! Even now, as I recall those memories, I’ve broken out in a cold sweat, my bottom lip is quivering and my tears are dripping down on the backs of my hands.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 15

With all three of us back in the car, we hit the highway again. For the next twenty minutes, Mom and I had to listen to John, grumbling about how much time we’d lost at the rest stop. Now, I was thinking to myself, if he would have pulled over when I asked him to in the first place and let me go on the side of the road like I did that one time, then we wouldn’t have lost as much time as we ended up losing, but I didn’t dare say what I was thinking.

He went on and on until Mom finally come back with, “For the love of Pete! Would you let it go already?” I’m sure, had she thought it out she wouldn’t have said it like that, but like myself, she was getting really irritated with listening to him go on and on. However, Mom didn’t leave it at that. No, she was caught up in the moment and let him have it with both barrels. “It’s over and done with! I know you might think so, but all the belly aching in the world won’t rollback the hands of time. So cram a sock in it and drive!”

That stopped John’s complaining, but it also stopped all conversations for the rest of the trip. That actually turned out to be a good thing, because I was actually able to fall asleep for a while. However, before taking a not so little snooze, Mom handed me one of those insulated cups. You know, the kind people use for sipping their coffee while driving to work.

Let me ask you something. Have you ever started to drink something, thinking it was one thing, only to discover that it wasn’t what you were expecting at all? Looking back, there really was no reason for my brain and tongue to have been expecting chocolate milk, but never-the-less they were. So, when I put the cup to my lips and chugged, I nearly spat the contents all over the back of John’s head. Somehow, I don’t think he would have appreciated that too much.

Despite my natural reflex to spit it out, I managed to swallow it before blurting out, “Oh! What is this?”

Mom had been watching me the whole time and she smiled a jovial, but loving smile. “Oh honey,” she chuckled, “I am sorry, but that was just so very-very funny. You should have seen your face.”

I licked my upper lip and realized that the spill-proof cup was filled with fruit punch. Once I got over the initial shock, I enjoyed the cold punch and I think I fell asleep almost immediately after finishing it.

I awoke again, as we were turning into the long gravel driveway, which winds its way up to Joey’s house. The sun was still just under the horizon causing the sky to look as though it was on fire.

“Is this it? Are we there?” I said, going from groggy to exuberantly energized, in less than a millisecond.

Nothing seemed the same as it had been before. Nearly all of the trees were bare and the grown, once vibrantly green, was now covered with shades of gold and brown from all the fallen leaves. Though there was no sign of it now, I later found out that they had already seen their first snow. I was a little saddened that there were no traces of it left.

“Yep, we’re here.” Mom said, and I noticed for the first time, that Mom was sitting behind the wheel and John was sitting in the passenger seat. I wanted to ask when we had stopped for them to switch places, but I decided I’d be better off not poking that fire.

As the car bounced down the gravel drive, I became aware of yet another surprise. I was no longer wearing pants.

“Hey! Where are my pants?” I said with alarm.

John turned in his seat; he looked groggy, like he’d just woken up too. “Sorry bud, you had a leak in your sleep.” He turned forward again as he added, “See, putting the plastic on the seat wasn’t such a crazy idea.” I’m not sure if he was saying it for my benefit or Mom’s. I guess it doesn’t much matter.

I was honestly stunned that I hadn’t regained consciousness while my pants were being removed. The question kept repeating in my mind, “How could I sleep through something like that?”

Apparently Mom could see me in the rear view mirror and guessed the question that was perplexing me, because she answered it without me having to ask. “You slept right through the changing, just like you used to do when you were tiny.”

“Oh look, there’s the house.” John said, sounding almost as excited as I should have been had I not been suddenly overtake with panic as I realized that Joey and his mom were about to see me and my diaper without any pants.

“I need to put on my pants!” I screamed, as the car slowed to a stop, but no sooner had the car stopped, then the car door beside me opened.

I was sitting there wearing a shirt and diaper and that was it; no pants, no shoes, and no socks. And Joey was standing right there, looking at me with wide gleeful eyes.

“Hi Alvin! Boy, I am so glad you are here! I been waiting and waiting and waiting all night for you.” He said tugging on my arm to get me out of the car, but my seatbelt was holding me firmly in place.

“Take off your seat belt! Come on, I got to show you what I made!” He said, tugging so hard, my arm felt like he was going to pull it off at the shoulder.

I don’t remember pressing the seatbelt button, but I must have, because the next thing I knew, Joey was dragging me across the grass toward the house. I don’t even remember having to walk barefooted across the gravel. However, I do remember how cold the grass felt against my feet and the early morning autumn air as it nipped at my bare legs.

The two of us were all the way up on the porch before Joey’s Mom came out of the house while wiping her hands with what I took to be a dishtowel. I later learned it was one of Joey’s older cloth diapers that he’d outgrown. Joey did a sort of end run around his Mom and I nearly fell flat on my face. As it was, I stumbled and had to grab onto the back of Joey’s shirt to keep from falling. That is when I noticed, that Joey was dressed much the same as I was, except he had on shoes and socks and a backwards blue ball cap with a red maple leaf on the front.

“Whoa, whoa!” his mother said, “Slow it down boys!”

“I am going to show him what I made!” Joey said impatiently.

“Well, that can wait for a minute, can’t it?” She said pulling my arm free from Joey’s grasp and giving me the biggest, warmest hug I’ve had in a very long time. It felt so good that I didn’t want her to ever let me go. She loosened her embrace just enough so that she could pull my head back and look me in the eyes.

“We are so glad you came back to visit us.” She said just before kissing me below my right eye.

“I missed you guys too.” I said burying my face against her soft shirt once more.

We finally broke our embrace, but she still held onto one of my hands like I was a small child. She began talking with Mom and John who were still getting out of the car. Without her realizing it, Joey reached up, took my hand away from his mothers and spirited me into the house.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 16

In Joey’s room, I saw right away what he was so excited about. He’d built an enormous fort out of cardboard boxes which took up his entire room. It was so big that he and I could sleep in it together quite comfortably. Inside and out he’d colored it with markers and crayons to make it look like a real Wild West Wooden Fort. He even drew some Indian arrows on the front to make it look like the Indians had recently mounted an attack.

I know Joey is younger than I am, but for some reason, when I am with him I feel younger too. It’s almost like we become the same age. I even enjoy playing with his toys and stuff. I can’t really explain it too well; it just happens and though I would probably die if any of my friends back in California ever knew about it, I still like it.

Since it was so early when we arrived at Joey’s we didn’t get a lot of time to play before Beth (That’s Joey’s mom) was calling for us to come back downstairs.

Joey led the way as we raced down the hallway and tromped down the steps like a herd of stampeding buffalo. When we neared the bottom of the steps, Joey, with only three steps to go, leapt to the floor below, landing with a solid thump. Of course, I couldn’t be shown up by someone younger and smaller than me, so I did the same thing only from four steps up; I mean if you’re going to outdo someone, you can’t very well do what they just did. That would have just made me a copycat.

However, I shouldn’t have done it. The launch was flawless; the flight couldn’t have been more majestic, but my landing left a lot to be desired. I hit the floor at an odd angle, cart-wheeled forward, crashed into Joey’s back and sent the two of us sprawling across the floor with me lying on top of him. Luckily neither of us was hurt and we both popped right back up laughing. Still, we could have got hurt bad, so then and there I decided that I wasn’t going to attempt anymore jumps from off the steps.

We found his mom in the kitchen, but my parents weren’t anywhere in site.

Looking around I asked, “Where’s Mom and John?”

“They’re in the other room waiting to say goodbye. You better hurry.” Beth said to me.

“Goodbye?” I squawked, causing my voice to crack, “Where are they going?”

Beth looked at me with concern, “Alvin, you’re staying here with us this weekend.” She said as though this were old news. Then she dropped the bomb, the real reason we’d come to Canada, “So your folks can have a couple of days alone.”

I leaned on the kitchen counter to keep from falling over.

Beth then asked me, “Didn’t they explain that to you?”

I raced into the other room where I found Mom kissing John really mushy like. I’m talking about the two of them being in full face sucking mode! If I wasn’t so upset over the fact that they were about to leave me stranded in some strange country, I would have been completely and unreservedly repulsed by the way the two of them were slobbering all over each other.

“You are leaving me here?” I lamented as I ran up to them.

“Alvin sweetie, I told you all about it in the car on the way up here.” Mom said.

“Nuhuh!” I argued, “You didn’t say anything about abandoning me here!”

Yeah I was being overly dramatic, but I was worked up, so give me some slack okay?!

John was hanging all over Mom and nuzzling her neck as he mumbled something that sounded like, “I bet he had already dozed off by then.”

Mom wriggled free from John’s groping hands, knelt down in front of me, took hold of both of my wrists and explained, “Your father and I want to spend some time alone and,” she paused to look over her shoulder at John and then trying to make it sound like she’d coated this next part in ten tons of syrup, she sang, “we thought you would like spending the weekend with your new little friend Joey.”

“Yeah I do… but you said we were going to visit together!” I whined and well, I really didn’t have any idea as to why I was so upset about them leaving me with Beth and Joey.

I didn’t want to hurt Joey’s feelings or his Mom’s for that matter, so I whispered softly, “Mom, please don’t go?”

She hugged me, kissed my cheek and told me she loved me. However, in the end, she and John did leave me in Beth’s care for the entire weekend. What was even worst, when I tried to plead my case to John he made it all too clear that he would make me sorry if I spoiled their plans.

As John was heading for the door he bent down like he was going to give me a goodbye hug, but he didn’t hug me. Instead, he leaned over me, pulled the back of my shirt up, tugged on the back of my diaper.

In a clear loud voice he proclaimed, “This one’s still clean and dry!”

He and Mom thanked Beth for letting me stay, then they left me.

Oddly enough, and I supposed I should be grateful for this fact, within a few minutes Joey had me completely distracted. I even forgot that I was supposed to be upset about being left behind. He politely took my hand, led me to the table and began telling me about the wild goose that got into their house the day after we had left.

“We chased it all over the house and it just kept pooping everywhere! I never thought so much poop could come out of one goose!” Joey laughed and snorted.

“How did you catch it then?” I asked.

“Well that is the gross part.” Joey said, lowering his voice a bit. “It was about to fly into Mom’s room and when she tried to close the door before it could get in there, she accidentally chopped off its head with the door.”

“Oh sick!” I said covering my mouth.

“Yeah, the poop was gross, but the blood was so much grosser!” Joey was rocking back and forth in his chair laughing.

“That dang thing was just like a chicken. Boy Alvin, you should’a seen it! Its body kept flapping and spraying blood everywhere. Some even went in my mouth!” Joey said while proudly pointing at his mouth.

“Sick!” I said, trying not to gag, “Then, what happened?”

“Then it tumbled down the steps and when Mom and I got down to it, it already stopped moving.” Joey said imitating the dead bird.

“Gross, gross, and triple gross! So, did you guys bury it?” I asked.

Joey looked at me as though I had a gnarly booger hanging out of my nose.

“Noooooo, we didn’t bury it!” he grumbled, “Mom cooked it and we ate it!”

“No you didn’t!” I said doubtfully.

“Yeah huh!” he said nodding his head aggressively. “Mom, didn’t we eat that old goose that got in?”

“Oh no, you’re not telling him about that are you?” Beth said as she walked into the kitchen again.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that on the computer?” I asked him.

Beth answered for him, “Because I told him he didn’t need to send that sort of story to you.”

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 17

Beth asked if we were ready for breakfast and up to that instant I hadn’t considered the state of my belly but the moment the idea was placed into my head I realized I was ravenously hungry. Then I realized, I hadn’t had dinner yesterday except for a snack and some punch I had in the car.

Since it was so early, and Beth didn’t really seem all that ready for a big production in the Kitchen, she toasted us both a couple of frozen waffles, and covered 'em with blueberry syrup and whipped cream. We also both had a big cold glass of Milk to wash the waffles down.

The two of us raced back to his room and played to our hearts content. I didn’t seem to be at all fazed by the idea that I was running around his house wearing a diaper that was in full view of Joey and his mom. I guess since that is how Joey was dressed; it made me feel more at ease with it.

We spent the morning happily playing inside the fort. After we successfully defended the fort from Native American Zombies armed with laser rifles and riding mechanical jet engine powered horses, Joey let me draw and color an awesomely cool blue dragon on the cardboard wall inside the fort. He helped me color it in and that is what we were doing when his mom called for us to come down for Lunch.

I didn’t even know I was hungry again until we started down the steps and smelt the delicious aromas that wafted into our faces.

“What are we having?” Joey asked after jumping from the third step again. I didn’t jump, but walked down slowly and carefully.

Beth turned around to face us, “We’re hav…”, but stopped as she caught herself in mid-thought. “Oh my boys, you are both soaking wet!” she cried out.

In unison, Joey and I looked at each other’s diapers. They were sagging and bloated in the front. Joey thought it was kind of funny, but I was mildly horrified over the situation.

Joey groaned humorously as he said, “Oops, sorry mom!”

I just stood there wishing I was a ghost so that I could make myself evaporate.

“Back upstairs! Both of you! March, hup-two-three-four!” Beth chanted as she followed us up.

Joey began singing out, "Keep it up, two, three, four. Oh, the aim of our patrol is a question rather droll. For to march and drill, over field and hill, is a military goal!

I tugged on the back of Joey’s shirt as we neared the top of the steps, “What are you singing?”

“It’s from Disney’s The Jungle Book.” He said proudly.

Letting go of his shirt again I said, “Oh yeah! I remember that! The elephants were singing it, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Beth said, giving me a playful little push to get me moving faster.

Now you might remember I said that the cardboard fort that Joey built took up his entire room. Well, that meant that there wasn’t anywhere for her to change us in his room. However, she had already been prepared for that. In the master bedroom was a large changing table. No kidding, an honest to goodness changing table. It was bigger than a baby’s changing table by a lot. It was plain to see that was what it was for and no other purpose!

I was very nervous when she said I was first. I was made to climb up on the changing table and lay down like a tiny baby. I think I became part chameleon because I could feel my face, ears, neck, and forehead turning deeper and deeper shades of red as she opened my diaper and proceeded to wipe my skin with a cool baby wipe.

Joey then piped up with, “Speaking of elephants, I know a way funny joke.”

But his mom jumped him with, “If that’s the one with the elephants and the rhinoceroses then you better think twice before you get yourself into a heap of trouble mister.”

“Ah, mooooom! But it’s a really good joke!” Joey whined.

“You heard me young man!” was her response.

Joey stomped his foot in protest and Beth gave him a look that I’d seen from my own mother before. It’s that look that Mom’s give us kids when we’re half a second away from getting a spanking.

That look shut him up! He folded his arms over his chest and puffed out his bottom lip as he silently sulked.

Before I knew it, Beth had me cleaned up and into a nice warm diaper. Heck, I didn’t even die of embarrassment either! When I stood up I knew instantly that I wasn’t wearing the same kind of diaper as before.

In fact, it wasn’t even a disposable diaper. It was one of those old fashion kind of cloth diaper. Over it she had snap on a plastic diaper cover thing like babies use. I eventually found out it is simply just called Plastic Pants. It was kind of a see through green color which oddly enough, reminded me of Christmas. And lastly, over the plastic went this pure white, kind of a soft-fuzzy cloth diaper cover that was held in place with Velcro Fasteners.

Beth helped me to sit up and then hop off the changing table. It took some getting used to all that bulk between my legs. When I didn’t move out of the way quick enough Joey gave me a shove as he said in rough caveman grunting, “Out me way! Me next! Me next!”

As he shoved me I took a step forward, but lost my balance and would have probably fallen on my face, had Beth not caught me by the arm. She steadied me and put my hand on the side of the changing table so that I could support myself.

She changed Joey who not only had peed, but had also pooped. I didn’t see it, but I didn’t need too because boy did I smell it.

Joey sang out, “I AM STENCHIFIED!”

It wasn’t the word but the way he said it that made it funny. By the way, that’s my new favorite word, ‘Stenchified’. I stole it from Joey, because it made me laugh the way he says it. Of course I must be extra careful that I don’t use it around you know who, when I get back to Maine. She’d probably crucify me on the school flag pole if I said something like that about her.

While he got changed it gave me a moment or two to get used to all the bulky fabric and plastic that was bunched up between my legs.

Oddly enough, it was then that I started to get really embarrassed. I could feel my face burning red and it felt like flames were going to start shooting out of my ears. My heart was beating really fast too like I’d been running a long distance; however, I wasn’t moving at all. I could also hear Joey’s mom saying something to him. She sounded so very far away. An overwhelming empty feeling began to grow in the pit of my stomach that quickly overtook me.

“Alvin, are you feeling okay?” Beth asked me.

“Mom, he don’t look so good.” Joey sang out and right then and there I vomited.

“OH COOL!” Joey exclaimed with odd reverence in his voice.

I was surprised how much came out of me. For a dreaded moment, I thought Beth was going to get irate with me for blowing chunks in her bedroom, but she did just the opposite. She felt bad for me and mothered me like I was her own child. She even gave me another one of her amazing hugs.

“Oh you poor thing.” She fussed as she wiped at my mouth with one of the clean cloth diapers. “It’s no wonder your belly is all messed up.”

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but it didn’t really matter because all I wanted to do was lie down.

She led me over to her bed and helped me to stretch out upon it. Joey seemed genuinely concerned too and insisted on staying with me once Beth finished his diaper change.

After cleaning up my mess, she slipped downstairs and brought up something for us both to eat. Mine was chicken broth with Oatnut Bread with the crusts cut off to dip into my broth; Joey’s was the regular lunch. I wish she would have let me have the regular stuff too because I wasn’t sick, I just sort of got a nervous belly for a minute there, and combine that with Joey’s stenchified butt gravy. I tried to tell her I was fine now but she insisted I only have the broth and Oatnut Bread.

You know something I learned about eating Oatnut Bread? Well, actually I learned two things about it. The first is that it is super yummy when dipped in broth. It’s got little oat nuts in it that makes it a little crunchy, kind of the way crunchy peanut butter is. However, the really important thing I learned about Oatnut Bread is, it seems, that it has loads and loads of what my mom calls fiber. You know what fiber does to you? It makes you poop and I mean lots and lots and lots of poop!

After lunch Beth came back in and covered us with a nice warm comforter and told us that it was nap time. I still don’t know why I gave into the idea of a nap so easily but I did and within seconds of being tucked in, I was out cold.

I awoke later but had no idea how much later. Beth was fastening the Velcro to the diaper cover on me. She had just finished changing my diaper for the second time that day.

I lay quietly as she went to the other side of the bed where Joey was lying crooked with his head and shoulders hanging over the side of the bed.

“What a goof!” I laughed to myself.

I watched her change Joey’s wet diaper and noticed that the plastic pants she took off him were a bright, futuristic-orange color.

Joey didn’t wake up at all during the changing and as Beth was finishing she noticed I was awake.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

I nodded my head but didn’t speak.

She walked back around to my side of the bed and picked up a tall cup with a plastic lid on it and a straw built into the lid.

“Here drink this.” It will help your tummy.

That is when Joey finally woke up.

“I think you two should take it easy the rest of the day.” Beth suggested, “How about watching a couple nice movies?”

I realized that Joey and I had slept a couple hours when Beth said I’ll bring up some dinner after bit. But right now I want you two to stay in this bed. No rough housing, or getting worked up. I want you both to take it easy.

She turned on the television in her room for the two of us to watch while we ate. She put it on some stupid Canadian kids cartoon channel that had these weird green Oompa Loompa Muppet looking things dancing and singing about washing behind your ears, under your arms, and between your toes. However, neither of us complained. We just waited until she left the room and then Joey got up to change the channel over to one of the movie channels. First we watched Shark Boy and Lava Girl, then the Jimmy Neutron movie which is always a good one to watch.

Near the end of Jimmy Neutron Beth came to check on us and to bring us some dinner.

“How are you feeling?” She asked me.

I nodded and answered truthfully, “Better but still kind of blah.”

“Do you think you can handle a sandwich? If not I can make you some soup.”

I nodded again, “I think I can do a sandwich.”

She had made us both Oatnut bread and baloney sandwiches cut into four triangles and we got to share a bowel of some crazy pretzel-cracker things that were really good. They were sort of sweet on one side and salty on the other. Joey had grape soda to drink from a sealed straw cup while I had more of that orange tasting stuff Beth had given me after I woke up.

When we were left alone to eat our dinner, the Jimmy Neutron movie ended and some stupid cartoon about this kid who finds some sort of magic wish granting baseball glove came on. Even Joey thought it was dumb, so he got up again and turned the television to the Showtime channel.

The next movie we watched turned out to be ‘The Sixth Sense’ with Bruce Willis and Haley Joel Osment. Actually, I’d seen it before, but somehow it seemed scarier as the two of us sat alone in his mothers’ room. Watching it this time got me to thinking and what I was thinking about made a cold chill run up and down my spine.

It turned out to be a good thing that Beth hadn’t given me anything more than bread and baloney, because apparently, my getting sick all over her rug, wasn’t just from a nervous belly and Joey’s stenchification. Even the baloney had made me feel queasy. I’m just glad I didn’t barf again.

After a particular scary scene in the movie Joey scooted closer to me and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“I-I guess.” I said not really sure if I did or didn’t.

“Ever see one?” he asked me as he scooted even closer.

Now, how was I supposed to answer that question? First off, was he reading my mind? Did he have any clue that I was just thinking about that very question. I knew that if I told him yes, then he’d start asking me more questions and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go there just yet. On the other hand, if I said I didn’t know, he’d probably want me to explain that too. However, I didn’t want to lie to Joey, so I settled for shrugging my shoulders and not saying anything at all.

After a few minutes Joey softly stated, “I saw a ghost dog one time.”

“How do you know it was a ghost and not a real dog?” I asked him.

“Because, I saw it walk right through a stone wall.” He said and moved even closer.

If he got any closer to me, he’d be on top of me. As it was his head was on my arm, his left leg was crossed over my right leg and then he did something that really seemed weird. He placed his right hand onto the front of my diaper; directly over my equipment. Forgetting the movie momentarily, I watched him and realized that he didn’t do it as a sexual thing. There was this really scary part where Haley Joel Osment gets locked in this small room and ghosts start hurting him. Right then Joey gave my diaper a fairly tight squeeze while gazing at the television, unable to take his eyes off the screen. I almost said something about it but I was afraid I’d embarrass him or risk ruining our weekend fun. Besides, he was only scared and I had the same problem; fear was filling my head and causing my heart to beat dreadfully fast. However, it wasn’t so much the movie that had me scared; my mind was hundreds of miles away in Maine, thinking about my mute friend Chris.

“It was really early in the morning,” Joey began to recount his ghost dog encounter. Also when he started talking, it startled me a bit, but I was hoping he hadn’t noticed.

In truth, he did an exceptional job of telling his ghost story, because I’d gone from being a little bit scared to trembling with fear. Despite the fact that my brain was telling me that it couldn’t have been real, my heart believed every word of it.

When the movie got to the scene in the school, when Haley Joel Osment’s character sees the ghosts hanging in the school, Joey and I held each other for comfort. It was at that very instant that Beth walked back into the room. She walked in and started to ask us if we were done with our dinner, but all she got out was, “Are you two…”

Joey and I both screamed like a couple of frightened girls who’d just seen a mouse.

Boy, Beth sure was upset with us for watching that movie. She yelled at Joey the most, because she said that she’d already told him he wasn’t allowed to watch movies like that. She also said that she was going to let us camp out downstairs in Joey’s little tent. But since Joey had disobeyed her, we didn’t get to. Instead, she made us sleep in Joey’s room. However, we didn’t tell her that was where we wanted to sleep anyway. We just didn’t want to go to sleep quite that soon. Then again, it wasn’t really early; it was nearly eight o’clock at night when we slung off to his room.

Before we were exiled from Beth’s bedroom we were again changed, this time on the changing table. Joey went first but didn’t play around at all. I think he knew his mother was still pretty ticked with us. When it was my turn I could tell the difference in how she diapered me because she wasn’t nearly as loving and gentle as she was the first time.

After making sure we were both lying down and being quiet, Beth gave one warning, “If you have a nightmare tonight, then you will get a spanking in the morning.”

I couldn’t believe that Joey asked this next question, “Even Alvin too?”

Beth answered with a strong “Yes!” as she clicked off the light switch.

“Sorry I got you in trouble.” I said after the two of us had laid there quite for a minute.

“It wasn’t your fault. I turned on the movie and besides, she wasn’t really mad.” Joey said.

I made a disbelieving grunting sound and then said, “Really? Because she sure sounded mad to me.”

“Trust me!” Joey chuckled, “When she gets really mad, she makes me sleep on the floor in her room where she can watch me all night.”

The two of us laid quietly inside the cardboard fort for quite a while until Joey whispered, “Alvin, you awake still?”

Into the darkness I answered, “Yeah, are you?” and we both giggled.

“You didn’t tell me.” He said.

I thought for an instant before asking, “Tell you what?”

“If you ever seen a ghost.” He whispered kind of loudly.

So I took a deep breath, let it out and then began to tell him all about my friend Chris and how the movie had got me thinking about how Chris acts. I even told him about the time in the park when I’d seen Chris and he’d run away. We talked a long time about Chris and by the time I fell asleep I had become convinced that Chris was a member of the lingering dead.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 18

The following morning the three of us woke up to a tremendous shock. During the night an ice storm had come through and encased the world in a half-inch or more of ice. What was worse was that Mom and John called around eight in the morning to say, that they were stranded inside their motel room too.

So, our short weekend visit to Joey’s turned out to be not so short. It was about eight days before Mom and John were able to finally make it back to Joey’s house, because it wouldn’t stop snowing long enough for all the ice to melt!

Have I told you yet how much I miss Southern California?

Those extra days I spent with Joey and his mom were all spent in diapers. I cannot tell you why, but except for that first morning, it never occurred to me to object to being wrapped in cloth diapers every hour of every day. Why only that one morning? Well that is because, up until that icy morning, I’d not felt the need to poop. Naps also became a regular thing. Like clockwork, right after lunch we’d both be given a sealed straw cup and sent to Joey’s room to take a nap.

That first morning, I had woke up feeling like my bowels were going to explode out of my stomach; boy, I really hate being woke up by my screaming bowels. Remember the Oatnut Bread I’d had bother at lunch and dinner the day before? Well, now it wanting back out and it was angry.

Worried that I might not make it, (that’s how bad I needed to go), I clamped my butt cheeks together and started to get up. However, when I started to move I realized something… Joey’s hand was stuffed down the front of my diaper and clutching my… uh… Doodle!

I froze as my mind tried to comprehend this… this action! Was Joey aware of this or was it something he did in his sleep? Would he wake up if I tried to pull his hand out? Or would he rip my Doodle right off instead of letting go of it?

He was partially straddling my left leg and when I tried to move he groaned and snuggled tighter to me. He pressed the front of his diaper and plastic pants against my leg. And that is when I started to feel a warmth against my thigh.

“OH CRUD! He is peeing!” I thought as I lay perfectly still.

After a moment I tried to move again only to have Joey release my doodle and latch onto my sack which had become slack and loose inside the warm, wet confines of my diaper. He’d grabbed hold as if it were his long, lost security blanket. However, he only held it for a moment before, much to my relief he withdrew his hand and rolled all the way off me and didn’t stop rolling until he was face down and spread out like he was skydiving.

I sighed a breath of relief and sat up. However, when I sat up I nearly voided my bowels right then and there. I made an audible gulping sound as I clenched my butt cheeks together. I looked over at Joey and much to my disgust; he was sucking the thumb of the hand that had been in my very wet diaper.

Getting out of the cardboard fort without waking up Joey was a real chore. Getting out of the cardboard fort without pooping myself was even more of a chore. Nonetheless, I managed to do both feats.

As I stood just outside the entrance of the cardboard fort, trying to concentrate on holding it in, I was again reminded that I was wearing a cloth diaper. Beth had done a great job pinning it on, because even though it was sagging between my legs, it was still holding tightly around my middle.

I had to do a sort of butt clenching duck waddle all the way to the bathroom and then nearly lost containment as I searched for the light switch.

I cheered myself on by whispering allowed, “Hold it! Hold it! Just one more minute, Alvin!”

With the light on, I crossed to the toilet and first removed the Velcro straps holding the diaper cover in place. I pulled it out from between my legs, dropped it on the floor at my feet and then forgetting that they had snaps, I pulled off the plastic pants like underwear. I can remember thinking how they felt oddly cold and clammy against my bare legs. It was a really weird feeling, like someone rubbing a dead squid against my thighs. But then I was faced with a new challenge, one for which I had no experience dealing with… Diaper Pins!

“Oh come on you stupid thing!” I growled with frustration as my fingers kept slipping off the wet metal.

The safety pin finally opened, but it was too late. With a painful groan I bent forward and filled the back of the cloth diaper. As the poop continued to flow out of me, so did my tears.

“No, not again!” I sobbed.

My words must have traveled down the hallway to Beth’s room and woke her up because half a minute later she was standing at the door to the bathroom.

“Alvin is everything alright in here?” she asked.

But no sooner did she ask it than my bottom let out a loud, juicy fart followed by more poop.

I was doubled over, holding my cramping stomach while tears of humiliation flowed out of my eyes and splashed down on the toilet seat.

“Oh you poor thing.” Beth said with genuine sympathy as she pushed open the unlatched door and walked in.

If things weren’t bad enough, I’d also awakened Joey.

“Mommy, what’s going on?” I heard him ask from out in the hallway.

First his hair, which looked as though it had been combed with a leaf blower, appeared around the edge of the door and then his face. He was only trying to peek into the bathroom to see what was happening, but he got more than what he bargained for. Like a wooden oar to the face the stenchification accosted him. Quick as a wink, a hand appeared (the same hand that was coated with my pee) and covered his nose and mouth just before his head disappeared from sight.

His disgusted voice sang out, “Aw gross! Did something die in there?”

Yep, that helped the situation…NOT! However, Beth remained just as sweet and kind as she almost always seems to be. Using some toilet paper she wiped my tears while telling me that it is just a little accident.

A minute or two later, Joey reappeared, in full view this time. Around his mouth and nose he’d wrapped a clean diaper and was holding it in place with one hand.

“Golly Alvin, you’re more stenchified than the goose poop was!” he said.

“Joey!” Beth snapped at him.

“Well he is!” Joey said in his own defense.

“Pipe down and go get me your bag from under the changing table.” She said with a hint of annoyance directed his way.

He soon returned with a very infantile looking diaper bag in one hand and his other hand was still holding the diaper around his face.

After taking the bag from him, she sent him away again. I’m assuming his mother did this to save what little dignity I had left.

She had me step into the bathtub so that she could remove the diaper. I can’t describe to you the stench that filled the room once the diaper was allowed to fall to my feet. Beth didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the odor. I on the other hand was gagging and probably would have puked again if there had been something in my belly.

She washed all traces of poop from my skin and then proceeded to bathe me proper like. I don’t remember when I stopped crying and I didn’t mind at all that she was bathing me as if I were a small child. Once that bath was over she had me step out of the tub so that she could dry me off.

“Now don’t you feel so much better?” she asked while drying my hair.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble for you.” I apologized with this pathetic sounding whimper.

She stopped drying me and held onto both of my hands so that I was forced to look her right in the eyes.

“Now listen to me.” She said gently tugging on my arms.

“You’ve been no trouble at all. Nothing that has happened was your fault and besides.” She smiled coyly, “Mothering little boys is what I do best.” She then leaned in and kissed my right cheek just below my eye.

When she next told me to lie on the floor so that she could get me re-diapered, I think my eyes nearly fell out of my head. But there is something in the way she looks at me and the way she speaks that seems to zap away all my powers of resistance.

Without a single objection or complaint on my part, I lowered by bare bottom to the floor, stretched out my legs and let my shoulders and head come to rest. Quicker than you can say the tongue twister ‘Rubber—Baby—Buggy—Bumper’ three times, she had me clad in a thick, warm cotton diaper. When I got to my feet and looked down I saw that she was pulling up a pair of crystal-clear plastic pants. A then over top that, another solid white diaper cover.

“Tell you what,” Beth started to say as she lovingly stroked my tummy above the diaper, “how about if you let me do my part as the mommy and in turn you will do your part and be the little boy that you are?”

I already told you that she has a way with words, right?

And so, from that moment until Mom and John and I headed back to Maine, just like Joey, I wore cloth diapers and even used them for their intended purpose. Those few days were sort of like a dream or a fantasy. It was almost like I wasn’t me, but had become someone else temporarily.

When Mom and John finally did return, John stupidly parked the car right on top of a big patch of ice. About twenty minutes after they arrived, John looked out the window and our car was gone.

He ran to the door and threw it open. “Our car has been stolen!” he stupidly shouted.

Of course our car hadn’t been stolen. It simply slid back down the drive about thirty feet and backed right into the mound of snow that Beth had piled up when she was clearing the snow with their tractor.

Joey and I helped dig it out too, but mostly John did all the work. Once he had dug the car out, we could see that the whole backend of our car was crunched and twisted.

We ended up staying one more day so that John could bend and bang the metal away from the rear passenger side tire. Oddly enough, during that extra day, Beth continued to treat me exactly as she had been and Mom didn’t seem to mind in the least. I’m not sure what I had expected; I suppose I thought that maybe Mom should have stepped up and at the very least offered to change me or put me back into regular disposable diapers or let me have GoodNites to wear. She didn’t do any of that. Just like all the other days, Joey and I were kept in cloth diapers, plastic pants, and cloth diaper covers right up until it was time from me to leave.

Sunday morning we were all up well before the sun. After a big breakfast of eggs, beans, Canadian Bacon, and toast, John announced that we had to try to get back home. Now don’t get me wrong! I totally loved spending all that time with Joey and we had an absolute ball every single second of every single day. But I was ready to go home; I mean go back to Maine… actually I was also ready to go back to my REAL HOME in Chula-Vista; then again I was ready to go back there the day my parents drug me away from that heavenly paradise!

I was surprised that I got so choked up when I had to say goodbye to Joey and Beth. However, it helped to ease some of my sorrow when Mom, as she hugged Joey, said to him, “Next time you’ll have to come visit us.”

While John loaded our things into the car mom took me by the hand and led me all the way up to Beth’s room where she had me climb up on the changing table and proceeded to remove the diaper cover, plastic pants, and cloth diaper. She then took great care in making sure I was very clean down there before slipping a plastic disposable diaper under my bottom. She then proceeded to cover my entire diaper area in diaper rash cream, followed by baby powder and finally she pulled the diaper up and taped it into place.

I didn’t object at all to the idea of having to wear a diaper on the ride home. Actually it didn’t even occur to me to object. I do, however, remember thinking how thin and inadequate the disposable diaper felt compared to the cloth diapers I’d been wearing all week. It didn’t even feel like I had a diaper on at all.

For the first time since before arriving at Joey’s I was made to wear pants. Whoa, talk about a really weird feeling after so many days of pantslessness. It was like back in Chula-Vista when I’d have to put on long pants because we were going somewhere that was too nice for board shorts. My legs instantly felt imprisoned in the fabric and my knees begged to be freed.

“Do you want mommy to put your shoes and socks on for you or do you want to do it?” Mom asked of me.

“Mommy?” I thought and got hung up on her tone which was like people do when they are talking to an infant.

I was quiet too long because before I knew it she was helping me back up onto the changing table and pulling clean socks onto my feet followed by my shoes.

I thought my legs and knees felt trapped. Boy my toes were really not happy being encased in shoes again!

This is no lie! Right hand to God! When I hopped down off that changing table and my shoes touched the floor, for half a second I forgot how to walk while wearing shoes! Thank God I remembered real quick because I bet if I had taken so much as another second to remember how to walk, Mom probably would have picked me up and carried me like a baby all the way out to our car!

Once we were in the car and moving, I didn’t say a word except for when we got on the highway; I was too scared to say anything. Our car tires kept spinning and making an awful racket until we finally got on the highway again.

“This is much better!” John announced as we merged from the onramp into the slow lane.

“I’m glad you think so.” Mom said sarcastically.

I leaned forward and patted John’s left shoulder, “That was good driving.”

“Thanks, now sit back please.” he said as he flipped on his turn signal to merge into the fast lane.

Once we were on the highway, traffic was heavy and the roads left much to be desired, but for the most part the return trip was uneventful as far as driving went. I, on the other hand, created several ‘event’ that had to be dealt with.

The first ‘event’ was about two hours into our journey when I realized that I was sitting there in the back seat wearing a completely soaked diaper. Now when I say completely, I mean it was bulging like a water balloon and causing my pants to look like the crotch seems were going to rip out.

“Uh, Mom?” I said softly but my tone must have got my message across loud and clear because she turned and one look she knew.

“Honey, can you take this next exit so I can change Alvin?” Mom said to John.

I couldn’t believe when John, who prides himself on his driving times, took the exit without so much as a groan or a grimace.

When Mom opened the car door and told me to unbuckle myself and lay down on the seat I hesitated and I looked around us to see who might be watching.

“Would you rather go into the ladies room of that restaurant?” Mom asked pointing to the brightly lit sign of the Bob Evans.

Remembering my experience at the rest stop on the way to Canada and not wanting to have a repeat of that embarrassment, I quickly unbuckled myself and stretched out there on the back seat.

It took a bit longer to change me in the car then it had on the changing table but quick enough mom hand me changed.

I almost said something when mom told me to go ahead and buckle myself back in before she had given me back my pants or shoes, but to be honest, I was glad to have them off again.

So for the next few hours I sat back there quietly wearing a button up blue shirt with a sweater over top of it, a gleaming white disposable diaper, and long black socks which I had pushed down to my ankles. And I was as happy and content as I have ever felt!

The next event happened shortly before we decided to stop to eat the lunch Beth had packed for us. I’d fallen asleep in the back seat and was dreaming about surfing with Joey. It was a great dream but it ended abruptly when I suddenly threw open my eye lids in shock. I’d just filled the back of my diaper while I had been napping.

I became so humiliated that all I could do was sit there and silently cry. Eventually the smell made its way up to the front seat. John was the first to catch a whiff of my accident.

He sang out, “Wooooweeeeee! I’m thinking we need to get off at this here truck stop and hose someone down! What were they feeding you up there son?!”

Mom turned in her seat and asked, “Alvin did you go number two?”

Okay, am I the only one that thinks that is the dumbest question ever asked?

“Oh Lord my eyes are burning!” John sang out.

Mom couldn’t help herself and chuckled as she swatted John and told him to stop.

“He’s embarrassed enough as it is.” Mom told him.

I buried my face in my hands to try to hide my shame.

“Roll down the windows! We need to air this car out!” John continued.

So we got off the highway at the truck stop and this time I wasn’t changed in the car. Mom must have figured that she’d need a sink at the very least. Mom left me standing outside the door to the Truck Stop Mini-Mart while she went in to inquire about the lady’s room key which was located around the back of the building.

Much to both of our dismay she returned holding not the Ladies key but the men’s. We walked around the building and found out why she wasn’t given the Ladies key. Apparently the Ladies bathroom had been vandalized. The door stood open and one peek and we could see that someone had smashed the toilet, ripped the sink off the wall, and kicked down the metal wall that separated the sink and toilet. Even the florescent light had been ripped from the ceiling and hung flickering ominously.

Without a word being spoke mom reached down, took my hand and walked me to the men’s room. Thankfully it was in perfectly good working order and clean! However there was no changing station. So after locking the two of us in the men’s room, Mom began spreading paper towels out on the floor so that I’d have a place to lay while she cleaned me.

Oddly, it was only as I was getting down on the floor that it even occurred to either one of us that I wasn’t wearing pants! I’d walked from the car, to the front door of the Mini-Mart, and then around to the bathrooms wearing a shirt, sweater, and in full view, my wet, soiled diaper. Every Trucker must have seen me and wondered what they were actually witnessing. I mean I didn’t even have shoes on my sock covered feet!

“Nothing we can do about it now.” She said as though reading my mind.

I tried to relax while she unfastened the diaper tapes but to be honest I was getting worked up over the idea of walking back to the car without any pants.

Unfortunately, the toasted Oatnut bread I had for breakfast earlier had worked its magic and my diaper was completely filled and covered not just my backside but the front and sides too.

“Goodness Alvin!” Mom exclaimed when my diaper opened.

That was all that was said until I was back on my feet.

“Let me wash up and then we’ll take the key back.”

When we opened the bathroom door John was standing there and smiled at us while holding my pants and shoes.

“Forget something?” he asked.

While mom gave him a big kiss, I snatched my pants from him and jumped into them with both feet at the same time. I had them pulled up and zippered in no time at all.

“What do you say we have a bit of lunch before we get back on the road again?” John asked mom.

I was pushing my foot into my shoe when I said, “Hope there’s not Oatnut Bread again!”

We had to stop one more time before we made it home as I’d fallen asleep right after lunch, and slept nearly the rest of the trip. We were still about an hour from Lewiston when John needed to stop for gas. While we were stopped mom woke me up so that she could change me.

I found it interesting that mom was able to change me, and that included diaper rash cream and powder quicker than what it took for John to fill up our gas tank.

Overall, our Journey from Canada to Maine was basically pleasant and enjoyable by all. However, our homecoming is a different story. No sooner did we step in the door than Grandmother started raging on my parents. I have no clue where my Grandfather was, but then again I didn’t care either.

John handed me my bags and just as nice as could be said, “Take these to your room, would you. That’s a good boy.” And I didn’t even hesitate. I wanted nothing to do with what was sure to be a long, heated conversation.

Would you believe I was in Canada long enough that I almost forgot how to get to my room in my grandparents’ house? However, I did find my bedroom and none too soon, because as I opened the door, I could hear John’s voice echoing throughout the house.

“What the hell did you want us to do? Shit out a sunny day to melt the fucking ice?”

I quickly stepped into my room and closed myself in so that I didn’t have to listen to them arguing and screaming at one another. Even though it wasn’t actually said, I think all three of us knew that there would be hell to pay for, having been gone nearly a full week and a half.

Even with my bedroom door closed I could still partially hear them. So to distract myself from what was being said, I busied myself with unpacking my things and putting them away.

That was when I found the surprise that Joey had hidden inside my suitcase. Under all my clothes and things, folded neatly was a large piece of cardboard. I took it out and unfolded it to reveal the dragon that he and I had drawn and colored together on the inside of his cardboard fort.

I have no idea why, but I got all teary eyed when I saw that Joey had cut that section from his fort and hid it in my suitcase for me to find when I got home.

If I was back in my room in California, I would have hung that dragon on the wall above my bed. I didn’t think that would go over too well here in my grandparents’ place so instead I folded it back up and put it inside the armoire, where it would be safe.

Unfortunately, unpacking didn’t take all that long and before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of my room with nothing to do.

“I know! I’ll take a bath!” I said aloud.

“That’s a good idea Alvin!” I answered myself.

I went into the bathroom, closed the door and before taking off my clothes, I turned on the shower and the sink faucets. That did the trick; I could no longer hear anything, but the running of water.

As I began to strip I became aware of the fact that the last diaper, which Mom had put on me before we got home, was wet. And when I say wet, I mean WET!

When I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, not only did my pants fall off of me, so did the diaper. I stepped backward out of my pants and the wet diaper and just stood there looking down at the white soggy blob.

Now, the fact that it was so wet didn’t disturb me as much as the fact, that I didn’t remember peeing in it in the first place. However, the evidence was lying right there on the bathroom floor. And by the look of it, it was a testament that I’d not subconsciously wet once, but many times to get it that soaking wet.

When I leaned down and picked it up, it was heavy and smelled a bit too.

I laid it on the marble vanity top, unfastened the tapes, rolled it up carefully and then refastened the tapes. Once I was sure it wasn’t going to leak all over the place I carried it to the armoire to dispose of inside the big green diaper pail. It was so soggy that it felt like I was stuffing a Ziploc baggy filled with warm pudding into the green diaper pail. Once again I got a bit giddy when the pail made that whirling sound which told me that the diaper was sealed away. I even did a little butt wiggle dance to the sound because I knew the diaper was no longer able to stenchify my bedroom anymore. However, I was a different story; if the diaper smelled, then how much did my lower region smell?

Away from the running water I could once again hear the shouting voices as they managed to filter through the closed bedroom door. So, I quickly stuffed the diaper pail back into the armoire and ran back to the bathroom. I stepped into the shower and the warm water hit my skin which only minutes before had been encased in the diaper. I let out a yelp and jumped back from the spraying water. It’s not that the water was too hot, it’s that my skin seemed extra sensitive to the temperature.

When I looked down at my penis and the skin around it, I could see that it was pinker than normal… almost red even. At first I thought maybe I’d got some sort of stain on my skin from the diaper, but that thought vanished almost as fast as it had appeared.

“Gee-whiz, Alvin! How could you get a red stain from a white diaper?! How stupid can you get?” I rebuked myself for even thinking something so dim-witted.

Once I readjusted the water so that it was cooler, I was able to continue my shower. I had to adjust it again about halfway through to make it even colder. By the time I stepped out of the shower, my little balls were so shriveled up that it hardly looked like I had a sack at all.

It wasn’t until I was looking at my body in the mirror that I realized that what I was seeing was the onset of a bad diaper rash. My mind flashed back to each diaper change and the fact that mom had applied diaper cream each time.

“So why the heck do I have a rash?!” I asked the mirror image of me.

I reached down and pulled on the skin of my sack.

“OOOUCH!” I moaned in pain.

“Alvin, are you okay in there?” I heard John say from the other side of the bathroom door.

I turned off the sink faucet, which had been running that entire time, before answering him.

“Um, I’m not sure.”

The door opened and John stepped in. One look at him and I could tell that he was still burning mad. However when he saw me standing butt naked in the middle of the bathroom, he seemed to soften some.

“Wow, that doesn’t look good.” Was his first comment, “Does it itch?”

I shook my head.

He surprised me by what he did next. He stepped toward me and before I knew what he was doing, he hugged my head against his stomach. He didn’t say anything at first; he just hugged me for a long time. When he stopped hugging me I took half a step back and looked up at him. I was completely shocked to see, that he was crying… my dad was crying and I don’t mean a single tear either.

“You okay?” I asked him.

He smiled and rubbed my face with one hand.

“Come on,” he said putting that same hand behind my head and ushering me out of the bathroom and back into my room, “let’s get something on that rash before it does start itching.”

I suppose it was because I had sort of got used to Beth changing me and cleaning me which is why I didn’t get too freaked out when John knelt down in front of me and began rubbing cream all over my diaper area. He asked me to turn around so that he could do my backside and when I did I started giggling because it tickled so much. It never tickled when Beth did it.

“Alright you little hyena.” John said giving the back of my knee a playful little pinch. I did a little hop-skip as I spun back around.

John examined my genitals and the rash closely before saying, “We really should let the air get to that rash for a while.” And almost as quickly as he’d said it, he reached into the closet and grabbed one of the diapers, and not a GoodNite. For maybe a second I thought about objecting, but I decided that I didn’t feel like arguing with him about it.

Amazingly, John didn’t make me lie down on the floor so that he could tape the diaper on me. No, he did it while I was standing. It was quite remarkable to look down and watch as he slipped it between my legs, pulled it up and taped it into place.

“There, how’s that?” he asked.

I nodded again and gave a simple answer of, “It’s good.”

Thankfully, he reached back into the armoire and pulled out a pair of pants and a crisp clean white button up shirt. It seemed that he was helping me get dressed up more than what I thought I needed to be, but it wasn’t until he was zipping up my pants that he revealed why.

“We’re going out for dinner this evening, just the three of us.” John said.

“Really?” I asked and though I tried not to let on what I was thinking, I’m sure John knew I was thinking it. He and Mom probably didn’t want to eat supper at the same table with Grandmother after that big argument. For that matter, neither did I.

“Where’re we going?” I asked.

“Pichaloe’s,” he said while combing my hair with his fingers.

“What’s Picka… whatever?” I asked.

“Pichaloe’s,” he said again, “It’s a very nice restaurant. I know the owner and he’s been begging your mother and me to come by,” he went back into the armoire looking for something else. “and tonight seems like the perfect night for a family dinner.” He said from within the armoire.

A few seconds later he reemerged holding a neck tie.

“Oh man! Do I have to wear that noose?” I whined.

“Yep!” he said with a grin.

I was happy to see him smile.

“They won’t let you in without the tie.” He said.

He began to lace it under my collar and tie it for me.

“You know, there’s a McDonald’s that is close and they don’t make you wear a tie.” I joked with him.

“I’d rather eat a rat-burger.” He said and then he tried to take a bite out of my ear.

“Hey, I’m no rat!” I said trying to pull away, but John had both hands wrapped around me, trying to get the tie just right.

“Alright, hold still fish-boy.” He said while spinning me around and putting my back against his chest.

“Ok, but no more biting!” I said in an imitative dad like voice.

The door to my bedroom opened again and there stood Mom looking positively stunning.

“Hubba-Hubba!” I said and tried to whistle, but I was smiling too much to whistle.

“Wow, you don’t look half bad yourself handsome.” She said as she leaned down and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

John stood up and gave Mom a one armed squeeze followed by a peck on the lips.

“I’ll only be a minute.” He said.

While Mom and I waited for John to get changed I went into the armoire and retrieved the cardboard dragon to show her.

“He didn’t even tell me he was giving it to me.” I said and I almost got choked up again.

“Wow Alvin, that’s really good. You and Joey make a great artistic team.” She said, “You should hang it up.”

“Nah, I don’t think Grandmother or Grandfather would like it if I did that.” I said, folding it carefully and returning it to the armoire.

“Oh honey!” Mom exclaimed when John reappeared in the doorway wearing a brown suit coat over a white shirt like I had on. He was also wearing a pair of khaki pants and a striped tie which was kind of loud.

“Hey, that’s the tie I bought you for Christmas a long time ago.” I exclaimed.

John looked down at the tie and smoothed it with his hands.

“What do you know about that? So it is.” He said, as if he hadn’t already known.

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 19

The entire way to the restaurant, both John and Mom kept telling me how I had to be on my best behavior. They also kept schooling me on what eating utensil I’m supposed to use with each part of the meal. So when we arrived I was wound up so tight that I was scared to even move for fear of touching or getting close to something I shouldn’t.

We arrived at the restaurant just as the sun was about to kiss the horizon. The sky was this sort of orange color with wispy clouds. It was one of the most beautiful skies I have ever seen.

Fancy isn’t the word for Pichaloe’s. I’ve never in my life been in such a high class place. I’d never been anywhere that had people out front to park your car for you. John told me what you call those guys, but I’ve already forgot. Anyway, we pulled up and got out of the car as John handed his keys to some pimple cursed teenage girl with a lopsided ponytail. She was wearing a bright red vest with a black and green embroidered patch on the front that read, ‘Pichaloe’s’. At the base of her ponytail was an oversized red scrunchie that matched her vest perfectly. And just in case you don’t know what a scrunchie is… it’s a ring of fabric with elastic that girls use to gather or fasten their hair into ponytails. They come in an endless number of colors and styles.

At first, I didn’t recognize the girl; that is, until she spoke to me.

“Hey Alvin!” she said in a heavy Maine accent.

“Huh, oh hi Stacks!” I said, shocked to see her outside of school.

Actually, I am surprised I recognized her at all because she hardly looked anything like she did before. In a way, she looked kind of hot. I mean if it is possible to look hot when dressed like a red vested penguin.

I then asked the dumbest question ever, “You work here?”

“Oh yeah! My dad makes me work here every weekend and sometimes during the week; when it is really busy like tonight. He says it will help round out my character; whatever that means.” She said, giving her ponytail a flip.

Mom placed a hand on my shoulder and asked, “Alvin, who’s your little friend?” and I could have died when she said ‘little friend’.

“Um, oh yeah.” I said trying to keep myself from blushing, “Mom, this here is Stacks. She goes to my school.” I said trying not to sound or act dorky. And then I introduced my parents to Stacks, “This here is my mom and John… I mean my dad.”

“Hello Stacks. It’s a pleasure to meet one of Alvin’s friends,” John said and I was remarkably shocked at how he wasn’t doing or saying anything stupid to embarrass me, like he has always done in the past when meeting one of my friends for the first time.

Stacks smiled politely at my parents and said, “Actually, it’s Hillary. Stacks is just a nickname.”

One of the other guys in a red vest loudly cleared his throat and Stacks fired an annoyed look his way before saying, “I better get back to work. It was nice to meet you and I hope you enjoy your dinner.”

As we started to walk away from Stacks I glanced back over my shoulder and caught her eyeing me from behind. I instantly became worried that she might be able to see the tell tail signs of the diaper I was wearing under my clothes.

“Oh man, please don’t let her notice!” I prayed quietly and quickened my step so that I could get in front of John and Mom.

If you remember, the day before, our car had slid backward into a partially petrified mound of snow. So, it wasn’t exactly the nicest looking vehicle in the parking lot. I looked back again as Stacks got in and pulled away from the curb and caught a momentary glance of the other red vested parking people. They were looking at our car and snickering to themselves. I wanted to go over and kick them all in the shins.

As we stepped into the restaurant my jaw hit the floor. I’d never seen a place so… well I can’t think of a lavish enough word to describe that place. All the walls were made of darkly stained wood; the ceiling looked to be made of gold and the floor looked to be some sort of stone encased within an inch of glass.

We were greeted by a man in a black tuxedo. He first greeted John with a hug and a kiss on the left cheek. That one kind of took me by surprise and all I could think of was, “I hope he doesn’t kiss me!”

He then turned his attention to Mom. He said something I didn’t understand at all. I later found out that the guy was speaking French. He took hold of Mom’s hand and kissed it as though he was giving the kiss of life to a rose petal.

Finally he looked down at me and for some reason, my toes curled up inside my shoes.

“This must be your charming son,” The man said, sounding like the candlestick in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, “whom I’ve heard so much about.”

Apparently one or maybe both of my parents had been bragging about me. Oh man, I just had a horrible thought; what if they hadn’t been bragging, but instead telling people about all the really embarrassing parts of my life. “NO! No! I’m just being paranoid.” I told myself. See, I told you Mom and John had got me wound up tighter than a Swiss watch.

John politely introduced us, “Alvin, this is Mr. Rawnwe. He owns Pichaloe’s.”

I extended my hand to shake his, but he didn’t shake my hand. Instead he grasped it with both hands, leaned down to my level and spoke in a weird, French-used-car-salesman kind of voice. “It is a pleasure to finally meet the boy that has stolen my daughters’ heart.”

Honestly, I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Out of all the people I’d met in Maine, none of them talked like this guy; but still there was that odd feeling inside, that this guy reminded me of someone.

He stood back up again, smiled and glanced back to John as he said, “Come, allow me to show you to your table and please, everything is on me tonight. Tonight you are my royal guests.”

After he, ever so politely, took our coats and my hat and gloves, he excused himself with a slight bow.

“What did he say to you?” Mom asked quietly from across the table.

I didn’t have a chance to answer because Mr. Rawnwe returned along with another guy in a tux. However this guy also had a gleaming white towel draped over his left arm. I’d seen that done in movies so I knew he must be our waiter.

I’ve been to restaurants that put water on the table when you arrive, but I’ve never been to a place that brings out a glass bottle that was half my size and pours sparkling water into a chilled tall, slender glass. I swear, the water even looked better than any water I’d ever seen.

Mr. Rawnwe had a bottle of wine sent to our table. John went through this elaborate sniffing, pouring, and tasting ceremony with the waiter before giving him an approving nod. Only then did the waiter fill two extremely fancy wine glasses for them.

For me, of course I didn’t get to have wine, but I did have something just as special. Mr. Rawnwe had personally brought me a bottle of gourmet soda. He went through the same ceremony with me that John and the waiter had gone through. I did my best to imitate everything I’d seen John do, including sniffing the bottle cap and swishing the first sip of soda around in my mouth. I gave Mr. Rawnwe a nod that the soda, which by the way was the best tasting liquid I have ever put into my mouth, was satisfactory and only then did he pour it in a wine glass like Mom and Johns.

I hadn’t really thought before asking for a straw, because if I had thought, I would have kept my mouth shut. At first Mr. Rawnwe looked insulted, but then he smiled, disappeared for a moment or two and then returned with a straw. However, it wasn’t a straw like any straw I’d ever seen. I mean, it was a straw and it worked exactly like a straw, but that is where its similarity to those plastic tubes you get at McDonalds ends. For starters it was made of glass that was not round, but octagonal and the glass had been twisted kind of the way the red stripe of a candy cane is twisted around the white part. And either end of the glass straw was tipped with gold. Now I don’t know if it was real gold or not, because I didn’t think it was right to ask, but I’m pretty sure that it was.

“Wow! That’s wicked.” I said as he set the glass straw, which was partially encased in a folded green velvet napkin, onto the table. When my fingers touched the straw it too was chilled.

“Oh that’s cold!” I said, carefully pulling it out of the green napkin and lowering it into the soda filled wineglass.

I never knew that in super fancy restaurants, they don’t bring you all of your food at one time. They bring you one item at a time and the whole meal takes over an hour to be served and consumed. So when the waiter brought me a tiny bowl of soup, I thought it was the whole meal.

I even whispered across the table, “Is this all we get?” to which John and Mom both shot me looks that said I should shut up and eat my soup.

At first I was caught off guard when I tasted the soup. It wasn’t even remotely warm. Actually I’d go as far as to say it was cold and any other time or place I would have said something about the cold soup, but this one time I kept my mouth shut. Well, for the time being.

I only tried a few spoonfuls of the soup. It tasted like shrimp that had sat around for a few days; that and bad cheese.

When the waiter came to take our bowls he saw that I hadn’t eaten my soup. He politely asked me, “Did you not enjoy your soup.”

I glanced at Mom and John before I answered in as soft a whisper as I could, “It’s cold.”

The waiter smiled and chuckled. “It is Bouillabaisse!” he said as if that would explain everything.

“Alvin,” John said, trying not to look too embarrassed by my comment, “It is supposed to be cold. It’s a wonderful French stew made of fish, shellfish, onions, tomatoes, white wine, olive oil, and different spices like saffron and garlic.”

“What’s a saffron?” I asked.

John didn’t answer, instead he motioned for the waiter to go ahead and remove my bowl.

A few minutes later Mr. Rawnwe returned to our table, flashing that phony smile of his.

“Did you enjoy the Bouillabaisse?” he asked Mom and John.

They both said that they did. When he looked to me for a response I didn’t want to say that it tasted like cold road kill soup. So instead I looked to Mom to rescue me.

“Well, you know how kids are. If it doesn’t come from a can or deep fried then they won’t eat it.” Mom said.

Mr. Rawnwe chuckled as though that thought humored him. However, it might be my imagination but I got the feeling that he didn’t much like having a kid in his big fancy restaurant. That is when I noticed that there wasn’t another person in that place anywhere near my age. There was a girl and guy on the other side of the restaurant sitting with an older couple that looked as though they might still be teenagers, but only barely.

The second bit of food they brought to our table was positively revolting. The thought crossed my mind that we never once saw a menu and we hadn’t actually ordered the slop they were serving us. They were just bringing stuff out.

The grey-brown lumps that sat on the plate like mushy rocks looked about as appetizing as a steaming pile of dog poop.

Honestly, I really was trying not to be a royal pain in the rear diaper region. But come on, their chef must have really been trying to make me puke! I imagined him standing just out of sight laughing and giggling as I stabbed at the lumps of grey matter on my plate.

The waiter had said that it was a seasonal French delicacy loved by French children. He called them Truffles, I call them junk. They tasted like dirty feet, not that I’ve ever licked someone’s dirty feet, but if I had, their foot would have tasted like French Truffles. I always thought that Truffles were a type of chocolate candy thing.

It was all I could do to force myself to eat one of the chewy balls, but that was all I could get down. I made it a point to not make eye contact with the waiter when he came to take our plates.

Sure enough, Mr. Rawnwe returned a moment later and this time he addressed me first. “What did you think of the Truffles?”

Without looking up at him, I shook my head ever so slightly.

He spoke a moment with Mom and John, but I didn’t really pay any attention to what they were saying. It was taking all of my mental powers to keep that Truffle down.

After all the excitement of coming to a fancy restaurant, I was feeling less than impressed. I just wanted to go home and have some real food. Heck, I’d even settle for some of Micah’s Machewie.

To my immense horror, when I finally looked up to see what Mom and John where doing, I saw this big man dressed… well, dressed exactly the way you would expect a French chef to dress. He emerged from the kitchen and walked directly to our table.

A little voice inside my head uttered, “Oh no! Alvin, you are a dead man!”

I hadn’t even noticed the waiter, who stood next to the chef. Standing beside that gargantuan, the waiter looked like a stick man. The chef spoke in what I took as a polite tone, but it was all in French and it was apparent that he was talking to me.

The waiter smiled and translated for the chef, “Hello, I am Chef, Acel Destrie. I am very sorry you did not enjoy the Bouillabaisse or the Truffles.”

As the waiter spoke for the chef, the chef smiled and unlike Mr. Rawnwe, his smile seemed genuine.

Acel said something else to which the waiter translated, “I was not aware of your age. Please accept my apologies and I personally promise you that you will thoroughly enjoy the remainder of your meal.”

Chef Acel spoke again, followed by a hearty chuckle as he elbowed the waiter amusingly. The waiter didn’t seem to enjoy whatever Acel had said, but he translated it anyway, “If you do not enjoy it, we’ll take your waiter out and stone him in the alley.” That one made me laugh too.

Then Chef Acel motioned for me to stand up and come with him. I looked nervously to John who smiled and said, “Well don’t just sit there; get going!”

My mouth went dry and my throat felt like it was coated with sand as I rose from my seat. Acel reached around, placed his big hand on the small of my back and pushed me into the kitchen while saying something over his shoulder in French to Mom and John. I didn’t get to hear what the waiter translated because Acel and I had already slipped into the kitchen.

I was totally shocked by what I saw. Now when you think of a fancy restaurant, what sort of kitchen comes to mind? Yeah well that is exactly what I envisioned it would look like too. But it didn’t look anything like that. Instead of walking into a stainless steel jungle of industrial ovens and stoves, we walked into what could have been anyone’s home kitchen. Granted, there weren’t any wood cabinets, but even still, it looked like a kitchen out of some high priced home.

There were three other chefs in there, but it was completely obvious that Chef Acel was ‘The Man’. One of the chefs, a younger looking man of maybe twenty-something, walked past us only momentarily glancing my way. Without saying a single word Chef Acel had reached up and stole the tall white hat from the guy’s head. For half a second the guy stopped and looked at Acel, but then he exhaled loudly through his nose and continued on his way.

Chef Acel placed the hat on my head. It was too big, but my ears kept it from slipping down over my eyes. The only girl chef smiled at me and then said to Chef Acel, “It’s about time you replaced Onre’!”

In an extremely heavy French accent, Acel said to me in English, “I shall teach you to make Crepes.”

He must have guessed that I had no idea what a Crepe was because he made a thoughtful grunting sound. Then looking toward one of the other chefs, the one whose hat I was wearing, he said something in French to him. The younger guy looked up and without any expression at all he said, “Really thin pancakes.”

Chef Acel smiled and held out his hands and said in a questioning sort of fashion, “Qui, thin pancakes?”

By the way, as I am writing this I had to ask Mom how to spell ‘qui’. That is the way the French spell it, but it is pronounced, ‘wee’.

“Oh weeeeee, I love pancakes!” I told him while trying to sound French. I think he got a kick out of that.

“Good! We make thin pancakes.” He said slapping me on the back so hard that the hat nearly fell off my head.

“Careful Acel. You’ll snap that little thing in half.” The lady chef said.

The thought popped into my head, “Who’s she calling a little thing?”

Acel waived her off with a groan, “Aah!”

Chef Acel and I both washed our hands and then he hung an apron around my neck that once tied around behind me, made it look as though I was wearing a white monks robe. And with that tall chef hat I bet I could have passed for a short Pope.

It was really fun getting to cook. And even though it was crazy busy in that kitchen, I didn’t feel as if I was in the way at all.

I saw our waiter come into the kitchen; Chef Acel said something to him in French and he did an about-face right back out into the dining room. I later learned that Chef Acel had sent him out to tell my parents what we were doing. Mom also told me on our way back home that she and John enjoyed having some time alone. So I guess we all came out as winners.

“We are going to make three kinds of stuffed Crepes.” Chef Acel said, as he took hold of my wrists and thrust my hands into a tin of brownish looking flower. He smiled really big and chuckled; “Now you look like chef.” I realized that it was a joke when the other chefs laughed too.

The actual Crepes were super simple to make. It was just a little flour, eggs, milk, butter, and a pinch of salt. Mix everything together and fry them just like regular pancakes. The first stuffing we made was made from three different kinds of cheeses. Before we spread it on the Crepe, Chef Acel let me stick my finger in and taste it.

“Oh that’s good.” I announced.

“Qui, we make good team, you and me.” He told me and then shouting, so that everyone in the kitchen could hear he announced, “Onre’, you are fired! I have replacement right here!”

Acel leaned down giggling, “He no like’a cheese.”

Feeling confident I too offered my own loud comment, “How could a chef not like cheese?”

Mr. Rawnwe came in and his normally faux smile had been replaced by an honest grin. He said something in French to Acel and Acel said something serious to one of the other chef guys who turned away and began quickly cooking something.

Mr. Rawnwe smiled at me and then asked Chef Acel something in French.

“Qui!” Chef Acel said loudly and then he proudly slapped me on the back again as he added, “A week with me and he will be almost as good as Acel!”

Mr. Rawnwe left the kitchen and we began to make the second Crepe stuffing, which at first I wasn’t too keen on, but Chef Acel assured me that I’d like it. It was made with spinach, mushrooms, a little bit of shredded chicken and cream cheese.

“Ok, I like that!” I said after taking a timid taste.

“Why you not believe Acel?” he teased me. “Now we will make Acel’s favorite when he was boy like you.”

I took another bite of the first Crepe. “Mmm!” I moaned with delight.

“You like bananas?” he asked me.

“Oh yeah I love bananas. They are like the food of the gods!” I added.

Acel slammed his hand on the counter, “Onre’, I tell you! Even this boy says bananas are god food!”

I was quickly developing an idea that Onre’ must be the one that everyone in the kitchen picks on. I’m glad he had a good sense of humor about it though.

The third and final Crepe that we made was a banana and Strawberry concoction and we sprinkled the outside of the Crepe with powdered sugar and drizzled chocolate syrup overtop that.

Chef Acel then escorted me back to our table in the dining room and though he removed my apron, he let me keep the hat. I told Mom and John all about the kitchen and how I’d just learned how to make Crepes.

“Maybe Micah will let me make them for you one day.” I said taking a big bite of my three-cheese Crepe.

I was about half way done eating my desert Crepe when Onre’ came out of the kitchen, walked right up to me and stood there tapping his foot.

Sheepishly, I took off the chef hat and handed it to him. He stuffed it on his head rather roughly and huffed as he comically stormed back to the kitchen. Some of the others that were in the dining room, got a good laugh out of his spectacle too.

“That was Chef Onre’. Everyone in the kitchen picks on him, but I think he likes it.” I told to Mom and John.

And then the kitchen door opened again and Onre’ stuck his head out, smiled and waved at me. I waved too before he vanished back into the kitchen.

All in all, our visit to Pichaloe’s turned out to be really nice and I’m glad that they weren’t upset that I didn’t like their fancy foods.

Now, had the extravagant evening ended there, I would have been quiet happy, but as with everything good in my life, it couldn’t end happily. Mr. Rawnwe came back to our table as Mom and John were getting up and they thanked him profusely for the meal. I started to stand up too and as I did I remembered for the first time that evening that I was wearing a normal diaper. What made me conscious of it again was the fact that it felt oddly heavy between my thighs. Apparently I had once again wet in my diaper without knowing it.

“Not again!” I thought to myself.

I was really getting unnerved over the whole wetting without knowing it, thing.

As I stood I started to feel the need to go number two and it must have shown on my face because Mom asked Mr. Rawnwe where the facilities were.

I took off like a flash for the bathroom. I’m sure I was a spectacle for all the other dinners who watched me do a running penguin dance as I bobbed and weaved between tables.

No, I didn’t have another blowout in my pants, but what happened next was just as bad, if not worse!

“Alvin?” I heard John’s voice coming from the other side of the stall door.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“You okay in there.” He asked.

I knew that what he was really asking was if I had pooped myself again.

“I-I’m okay, but I tore my…” I couldn’t bring myself to use the D-word, “thing,” I said instead, “When I tried to pull off the tapes.”

“Well, let me know when you’re done and I’ll help you with that.” He said.

A minute later I was done pooping and wiped my bottom before standing up and unlocking the stall door. John stepped into the bathroom stall and closed it behind him. It was crowded in there with both of us, but there was enough room for John to squat down to help me with the diaper.

“Well, it’s a good thing we used a diaper, huh?” he asked as he pressed on the front and felt how wet it was.

I just blushed.

John took the two sides of the diaper, pulled them tight and tied them into a knot over my hip. There was still the problem of the torn plastic on the front, but John said that since we were going back home, it would be okay until then.

He started to help me get redressed, but I stopped him by saying, “I can do it myself.”

I then pulled my pants up and struggled to tuck my shirt in before leaving the stall. When I came out, John was already gone from the bathroom. I washed my hands, dried them on the fancy linen towels and tossed the towel into a brass hamper under the marble sink.

As I left the bathroom I had no idea that I was about to be humiliated in front of dozens of people and it was going to be entirely my fault. I stepped back out of the bathroom and met up with Mom, John, and Mr. Rawnwe who was just handing them their coats. I had my back facing away from them, but the entire dining room had a full view.

From behind us came at first a soft commotion of laughter which quickly grew until we all turned to see what was so funny.

“Alvin!” Mom exclaimed.

I turned back around to see what she was sounding so upset at me for and the dining room got even louder. Mom reached out, grabbed my shoulder and spun me back around. She then yanked my shirt out in the back and instantly I knew what I’d done. I had tucked my shirt into the back of my diaper and everyone in the dining room was laughing because much of the diaper I was wearing had been exposed for all to see.

Horrified, I grabbed my coat and things from Mr. Rawnwe and ran out of the restaurant. With tears welling up in my eyes I was forced to stop at the curb and wait for John and Mom to come out cause Stacks had taken our car earlier. Thankfully she wasn’t around when I came out.

As we waited for the car, Mom helped me put my coat on. “Alvin,” she said trying to comfort me, “It’s okay; it’s not the end of the world. We’ve all had embarrassing things happen to us at one time or another.”

1 Like

Re: Alvin Ever After: Alvin in the Second

Chapter 20

When we got home from the restaurant, Grandmother and Grandfather had thankfully already gone to bed. The second I was out of our car I took off running into the house and up to my room. I’m not really sure why, but that incident really shook me up. It was like I couldn’t shake off that horrible feeling when I had realized what I’d done.

By the time Mom came into my room I had completely undressed, leaving a trail of clothes from my bedroom door all the way into the bathroom where I was taking another shower to wash off the humiliation. The water stung just as much as before, but this time I didn’t care. The slight pain, that the water brought forth, helped to distract me from the humiliation I was still feeling.

“Alvin sweetheart, are you alright?” she asked from outside the shower.

“Mom, I don’t ever want to go back there again!” I whimpered.

She didn’t try to argue the case with me. Instead she asked, “Will you need help getting ready for bed?”

Shaking my head I said, “No, I can do it myself.”

Before she left me alone she instructed me to, “Be sure that you use the rash cream. Alright?”

I had to swallow hard before I was able to answer with, “Okay.”

I stood under the running water until I’d quit crying and stopped feeling sorry for myself. I think I was in there for nearly an hour. When I came out the mirror was completely fogged over and the bathroom was filled with a fog of steam that was thick enough to swim through.

I was genuinely surprised that neither Mom nor John had insisted on diapering me for the night. Then again, perhaps they were too tired or maybe they were having another fight with Grandmother. It didn’t matter because I had my GoodNites and those I could pull on and off by myself.

Now, if I thought the disposable diaper had felt thin after wearing those cloth diapers, a GoodNite felt as though I wasn’t wearing hardly anything at all. It felt like one good wetting would do it in.

That night, as I lay in my bed, I began thinking about the epiphany I’d had at Joey’s; about Chris being a ghost and all. And the more I thought about it, the more resolutely sure I was, that I was right about him. However, the more I thought about Chris, the more creeped out I was getting, all alone, in that big bedroom. My mind went into overdrive as I began to sense the movement of shadows and I was absolutely sure I’d felt something go bump under the bed. Eventually my need for sleep grew stronger than my fears and my eyelids slowly closed for the night.

The following morning I woke up about thirty-minutes early because I had to poop again. I really hate waking up feeling like I am about to explode if I don’t get to a toilet right away. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen very often.

However, not only had I woke up, but so did my imagination and it picked up right where it had left off the night before.

As my bowels screamed and ached for release I knelt in the center of the bed and tried to figure out, how to get from the bed to the bathroom without being grabbed by whatever was under the bed.

I decided that there was nothing else I could do. I had to attempt to jump as far from the edge of the bed as I could and hope that whatever was under the bed had short arms, or tentacles, or whatever monsters have instead of arms.

Since the bed was so soft, it was impossible to get a running start, so I stood at the foot of the bed and leapt up and out. I hit the floor running; actually, I think I was running before my feet made contact.

Once in the bathroom I grabbed the edge of the door and spun myself around, ready to battle anything that was coming at me. Of course there wasn’t anything behind me. I could even see under the bed and there wasn’t anything there either.

With the threat of being captured by a monster or ghost averted, I quickly raced to the toilet. No sooner did I get my butt planted on the cold seat than my hole opened and blasted the inside of the bowl with a watery, lumpy mess. And it kept coming too. It shot out of me with such force, that it actually made me quite dizzy for a minute or two.

“I swear if I live through this, I am never again going to so much as look at a slice of Oatnut bread again!” I moaned.

Of course by that time, it probably wasn’t the Oatnut bread that was giving me the screaming-doodies but I blamed the bread anyways!

When I thought I was done, I wiped myself once, but then I felt another cramp in my stomach. Out came another wave; this one was even lumpier than the first had been and it made the water in the bowl splash up and get my butt all wet. Don’t you just hate when that happens?

While I sat there, I noticed that sitting on the marble bathroom counter was another wet rolled up GoodNite. I knew for a fact that I hadn’t put it there, because I still had the one I had been wearing bunched up around my ankles. I finally surrendered to the idea that Mom or John must have come in during the night and changed me. It was a good thing they had too, because the one that was presently draped over my feet was completely drenched with pee.

All in all, I was on the toilet for about twenty-minutes and even then I wasn’t completely sure I was done. When I tried to wipe myself, I found that the contents of my bottom had splashed all over my butt cheeks as well as all over the inside of the bowl and the bottom of the seat. When I wiped myself, I got it all over the side of my hand and my thumb.

“Oh sick!” I exclaimed.

I decided the best course of action was, to jump into the shower. Otherwise it was going to take a whole roll of toilet paper to clean me up back there. And besides, I needed to get the pee from the night’s wettings washed off.

When I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, Mom was just coming into the bathroom.

“Are you taking another shower?” she teased, “You must be the cleanest boy in the state.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, “Ah Mom! You scared the life out of me!”

“You feeling better this morning?” she asked with an amused little giggle. I knew she was referring to the free diaper comedy show I’d performed at the restaurant the previous night.

She tossed me a towel, which I totally missed. It hit me right in the face.

“Mom, why does stupid stuff like that always seem to happen to me?” I whimpered.

She came over and began to help dry me off. “Alvin, messing up, getting embarrassed, and stuff like that are all part of growing up.” She said.

“Toes,” she said.

I lifted one foot and then the other so that she could dry my feet, legs and between my toes.

“Well, I think it happens to me more than anyone else.” I grunted.

“Other toes,” she said and I presented my other foot to her.

“Did I ever tell you about the time, when I was a little girl and had a pair of my panties fall out of my pant leg at school?” she asked.

“Yes!” I moaned, “Only like a bazillion times!”

She tickled the bottom of my foot and nearly caused me to fall over backward.

“Smarty-pants!” she said, as she caught me, hugged me to her and then dug her fingers into my arm pits.

“Moooom don’t!” I cried, as I squirmed to get away.

My stomach gave a loud gurgling sound.

“Oh you sound hungry.” Mom commented.

But I knew that wasn’t the growling stomach sound of hunger. That was the growling stomach sound of my bowels about to explode again.

I leapt from Mom’s embrace and quickly replanted my bottom back on the toilet just as a second wave of brown muck squirted out of me along with several loud bubbles of gas.

“Alvin, why didn’t you tell me you had a belly ache?” Mom admonished.

“I don’t have a belly ache.” I said, “I just got the screaming-doodies.”

It didn’t matter what I told her, she was already heading out of the bathroom and I knew she was headed for the Children’s Liquid Imodium. Man, I hate that stuff. It makes my insides feel like someone is digging them out with a rusty shovel, but it sure does the trick for drying up a soggy poop-chute!

Mom’s sometimes have the worst jobs in the world. She came back about the same time I was getting off the toilet. She insisted on using a warm, wet washcloth to make sure my bottom was completely clean and she even cleaned the toilet once she was done with my bottom.

She also added the comment, “You’re rash doesn’t look too bad today.”

However, after she administered the Children’s Imodium A-D Liquid Anti-Diarrhea poison, she applied a thick layer of the Desitin Diaper Cream to my front, between my legs and all over my backside. She even made me bend over, so that she could make sure she got between my butt cheeks really well.

As we walked out of the bathroom together, I picked up the GoodNite I had left lying in the middle of the floor, as well as the GoodNite that was lying on the counter. I crossed to the armoire and deposited both GoodNites at once.

Mom asked, “Did you have to get up in the middle of the night and change into a second one of those?”

I looked at her quizzically, “I thought you came in and changed me while I was sleeping.”

Puzzled she shook her head, “No, but maybe your father did. I don’t think he slept much last night.”

She started to reach into the armoire for one of the diapers and I instantly objected with the ferocity of a bear, which had just been awakened from a sound hibernation.

“Mom! No! I’m not wearing one of those to school!” I knew I was crossing the line with my tone, but there was no way she was going to get me to wear a diaper to school.

She just looked at me, diaper in hand. For a heated few seconds I thought I was going to either have a hand print on my bare backside or on my face. However, she simply returned the diaper to the plastic bag and pulled out a GoodNite.

“Then you should at least wear one of these. Just in case.” She said.

I didn’t tell her that I was already planning to do just that. After the way I’d been wetting myself without even knowing I was doing it, I wasn’t about to take any chances.

Mom also suggested that I pack a couple extras in my backpack in case I needed to change sometime during the day. Along with those, she insisted that I take the travel case of wipes and the tube of diaper cream. You can bet that all that stuff went in the very bottom of my backpack. I then covered them up with a t-shirt followed by all my school books.

While my stomach twisted and tied itself into knots due to the Imodium, I quickly slipped on the GoodNite and then finished getting dressed for school.

As I headed down the stairs to get some breakfast, I happened to pass Grandfather. He did the weirdest thing he’s ever done.

He put a hand out as if to say, “STOP RIGHT THERE!”

He bent down, straightened my belt buckle, which was about two inches off center, and kissed me on the cheek. And it wasn’t one of those loving little pecks; it was a full three second lip to cheek contact kiss that left a bit of old-man, lip juice behind.

That was it! He didn’t say good morning or how was your trip or anything. He just straightened my belt and kissed me, before continuing up the stairs. I was so stunned by his action that I continued to watch, as he climbed to the top of the steps and headed down the hallway toward his study.

1 Like