This story is written by Les Lea
Although the days that followed hung heavy on my shoulders, it was the nights that were worse. Nearly every morning I’d wake up absolutely sodden. Sometimes I’d remember that I’d had a terrible dream but quite often I didn’t remember anything… and that worried me. I’d slipped into being able to wet the bed so easily that I now thought I must have a problem.
Mum wasn’t around much so it was left to auntie to deal with my ‘problem’ but I think she accepted that it was all down to the stress and upset I’d given myself worrying about the upcoming trip and my absolute conviction that we were about to move. I’d not told Jake about my fears as I didn’t want to get him all worked up again, and dear auntie couldn’t put my mind at rest so, as a result, my pajamas and diapers took the full impact of my anxieties.
Even though I tried to hide what was happening from everyone auntie had seen my predicament growing and had done her best to keep its effects to a minimum. She asked me if I needed help but I thought this was something I had to do myself. Every night I made sure I was well diapered and wearing my plastic pants and in the morning, with mum away in the capital, it was auntie who took away and washed the soaked material.
A couple of times I’d arrived home and to my horror had seen the freshly laundered cloth diapers hanging out in the back garden along with my plastic pants. I didn’t want Jake to see them and start asking questions so I mentioned my concerns to auntie who agreed to have everything dried and stored away before we both got back from school. Unfortunately, sometimes she’d been busy and had forgotten so, as we entered through the front door she would make a sudden bolt out the back to bring it all in.
***
It was strange that during the day at school I was fine, and like Kenny, had taken to wearing my briefs under my shorts and no other protection. We appeared to have no problem in that area though, come the night, I was still unhappy about what was going on at home and told him about my soaked diapers. I voiced my concerns to him that, despite mum only recently saying we weren’t going to move, I was anxious that we might have to. Kenny, lovely Kenny, looked me straight in the eyes and said.
“Do you miss your mummy?”
“Erm, well, yes, of course I do.” I mumbled back wondering how he could ask such a question.
“Do you think Jake does as well?”
“Yes.” I wondered where he was going with this.
“Well… just think how much your mummy is missing you and Jake.” He looked at me to see I understood. “Twice as much.”
“But,” I sort of pleaded, “I don’t want to go somewhere else. I want to be here… with you.”
Kenny held my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Do you think you mummy wants to go?”
When he gets this solemn I find it difficult to hold his gaze because I know he’s pointing out something I have selfishly ignored. “No… I suppose not.”
“I think your mummy is doing her best to stay but, she has to work and if that work is elsewhere, she has to go.”
I knew all this. I wanted him to… I don’t know… tell me I was right and that… er… if the worst came to the worst I could go and live with him and … and… I ended up just sighing.
***
Kenny also had news for me. During the coming vacation he and his parents were flying to Scotland to see his grandparents… on his father’s side. He was very excited about meeting them as apart from speaking on the phone, he’d only met them when he was a baby and didn’t remember the occasion. He showed me some photographs of boys over there who wore plaid skirts, but he said they were tartan kilts, and it was the national costume. I vaguely remembered this fact from some old movie but it hadn’t sunk in.
He produced another photo of a young man, in his teens, who was looking very striking wearing only his kilt and boots, his chest was naked and pale but had a dark patch of hair… then Kenny nudged me and asked if I knew who it was. I had no idea but the smile and conspiratorial way he was looking at me suggested that I should so I stared harder.
“Is that… erm… is that, your daddy?”
My stunned recognition produced a huge smile that spread across his face and he burst into giggles.
“Yes it is. He was 15 at the time. Doesn’t he look handsome?”
Although at first I thought it looked bizarre, I had to confess there was something very manly about the image. He showed me more photos of men in kilts and apparently, in the army there, they all wear them. They looked fantastic and I told him he had to get a photo of him wearing one for me.
***
My upcoming trip to the capital was almost forgotten as we talked about Scotland and what he expected to see when he got there. His grandparents live just outside Edinburgh (which Kenny said is pronounced – Edin-bro) and there are historical castles and parades and mountains and lochs (again he said it was pronounced – locks)… ooh and bagpipes, which we both had a good laugh about. He was very excited about the flight, as he said that they’d be in the air for over ten hours and that apparently they show films and stuff. Yes he was very excited and he said that the only thing that would have made it even better was… if I was there with him.
Kenny has the habit of saying the most wonderful things just at the right time and not for the first time (and I doubted it would be the last) I was so grateful that he was my friend.
I asked him if his daddy still had his kilt and he said he did but it was back in Scotland, though he doubted that he’d get into it these days. Apparently they are quite expensive to buy so you never get rid of them… you pass them on to the next generation.
“Oh, so you might have a kilt to wear when you get there,” I enquired.
“S’pose so,” his eyes lit up, “let’s hope so and then I can get that photograph for you.”
When not in class we spent a great deal of time discussing Scotland and what they planned on doing on their trip. There was hardly a break went by without he didn’t come up with another piece of information about the place or something he hoped to do once he arrived.
***
Because Kenny was going to be in another country, oddly, my trip to the capital didn’t seem as worrying as I was imagining. However, one night as I lay in bed I was suddenly engulfed with ‘thoughts and what ifs’, which had me panicking. What if they decide to stay there? What if he finds a new best friend? Or worse still, what if the plane crashes? Suddenly I was terrified I might not see him again and I was sobbing loudly when auntie came in to see what the problem was.
She hushed and shushed and calmed me down as I lay there unsure of why I’d let my thoughts get so out of hand. Auntie’s reassuring influence was a great help and I was surprised when she asked if I’d wet myself because I quickly realised that I had. Until auntie had asked I was totally unaware of what I’d done but, as usual, once she knew of the situation auntie was quickly on it. My pajamas were off, as were the plastic pants and pull-ups and I was wiped, powdered and thickly re-diapered in record time. She went to my closet and pulled out the pink quilted diaper cover that I had now inherited from Kenny (as he had done mine) and pulled it into place.
“No matter where you go… or Kenny goes,” she said as she eased up my pajamas, “you two will always be together.” She touched her heart briefly. “You boys will always be connected.”
Her words were very comforting and I slipped into a deep sleep reassured that all would be well.
***
The week building up to recess was full of daily tests and like the rest of the school I had to work hard to keep up. Jake was constantly asking me questions, which, as the older brother I was expected to know the answers to. I tried to help him as best as I could and as I studied he would sit on my bed and we’d work together.
One night, when I thought he’d already gone to bed, I was changing myself and he walked in as I was slipping a pair of thick rubber pants over my thick night time diaper. Again I was caught off-guard and about to shout at him when he said.
“Are you OK?” He came over and put his arm on my shoulder. He was wearing his favourite shorty pajamas that auntie had made for him. The look of concern quickly dispelled my anger and I felt tears begin to well up.
I put my hand on his. “Just really…” I wasn’t sure what to say, “worried about… stuff… the tests…”
I wanted to say ‘and our visit to the capital’ but it was him who said it. “Yer… and mum looks really tired from all her trips… I bet she wishes we could move to save all that travelling.”
He pulled slightly away from me and then added some words I never thought I’d hear from him. “It would stop you being so stressed as well.”
As he said this he sort of looked at my thick padding, “You’ve been having a pretty awful time of it yourself.”
He patted the front of my rubber pants and, at the same moment, I was surprised to feel a huge weight lift from my shoulders. Jake has never been stupid or slow and I was ashamed that I had assumed he had no idea what was happening when in fact he knew but had said nothing so as not to embarrass me. At that moment I loved my little brother and almost squeezed him too tightly showing my appreciation.
***
“I miss having mum around. I love auntie being with us but I want mum. I want to be with mum.” Jake had put into words much of how I was feeling.
We lay in my bed together talking about what we thought might happen. Like me, he had also decided that this trip to the capital was for us to check things out. He told me how he didn’t want to leave his friends but he wanted mum around more. And, in a very grown up assessment said that we’d moved once and that was great, so who was to say another move wouldn’t also be good?
I was quite pleased with how Jake had taken on the mantle of the older, wiser, clever (my addition) brother and had come to such conclusions. Like Kenny had done, he made me think and perhaps, instead of fighting or worrying about what might happen, I should just go along with it and be positive. I thought Kenny would be proud of me… but then I thought more of Kenny and I knew it was because of him I didn’t want to move.
“If we did move,” Jake continued, “You’d miss Kenny a lot wouldn’t you?”
It was if he was reading my mind. “Just think how cool it would be to show him around the capital on school breaks.” He was smiling to himself as if he’d come up with a really clever plan. “You could become a tour guide.”
He was babbling now, well I thought he was and I just wanted to sleep so, I pulled the cover over us both, hugged him tightly, kissed the back of his head and told him to shut up. He made no move to leave and go to his own room… and I was very grateful to have my brother to cuddle all through the night.
***
The following day was amazing. I woke up dry (and still snuggling my brother), mum had returned overnight and I breezed through the school tests. Even Kenny commented on how more relaxed I looked and I happily grinned knowing how right he was.
Now I didn’t feel guilty I could talk about going to the capital with the same interest that Kenny had shown for Scotland (except without the kilts) and actually started reading more about the place and making plans to what I’d like to see. Kenny helped, suggesting places he’d love to visit, places he’d heard his mummy and daddy talk about and things he’d found of interest on the net. Even our teacher, Miss Pendle, heard about both our trips and had set us the task of being ‘roving reporters’ so on our return we could tell the class all about our ‘exciting experience’ (her words).
We were both so pleased with our new titles that our thoughts moved to becoming junior journalists on the town’s paper. The fact that in a very short time we’d gone from wanting to be Boy Scouts, pilots and a host of other things (and done nothing about any of them) didn’t matter because… our teacher had said we were to be ‘reporters’. We spent a couple of lunchtimes practicing reading the news on a pretend TV news programme. We kept saying something, and like they did on the real news, we handed over to each other for the next item.
“Coming up – Kenny Morrison and Simon Hudson bring you the latest news, sport and weather.” We’d shuffle some imaginary papers, look at each other and fall into hysterics.
***
We spent the last day at school making promises and hugging one and other. Kenny was actually going to be flying out early the Saturday morning and we were flying to the capital Saturday afternoon. He said he was excited but also worried about his first flight although his daddy had tried his best to allay any fears. However, he did say he was scared of having to use the bathroom so his mummy had told him not to worry as she would get him well padded before the trip and he could do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. This seemed a great idea and I suggested to mum that it might be a good idea for me to be protected in a similar way prior to our departure.
She wasn’t keen and kept insisting that we’d only be in the air for a couple of hours, if that, but I was resolute that I didn’t want to embarrass myself on my first flight. She pointed out that Jake wasn’t going to be wearing a diaper and plastic pants so didn’t see why I should but as I said I’d do it myself the conversation ended with her shrugging her shoulders.
Auntie whispered that she’d get me ready to make sure I didn’t look too padded and that she’d also been busy and had made special new outfits for Jake and me to wear during our visit
***
On the day of the flight we actually found out she’d made several. We had blue hoodies and jogging pants (mine with an ‘S’ and Jake’s with a ‘J’ on the front), because she said that the capital can get cool this time of year, and sets of shorts, shirts and t-shirts that looked fantastic for during the day.
I’d had a shower and just about to get ready for the flight when auntie came in to supervise. I didn’t need her but the fact that she’d gone to so much trouble made me happy to let her get involved. As I sat on the bed wrapped in a towel she went to the closet and pulled out a thick, terry diaper. She oiled and powdered me and fastened it in place, then, as a surprise, she fished from her bag another ‘special’ quilted diaper cover in purple. My eyes lit up in delight and auntie said that it was ‘royal’ purple for her little prince. She tugged it into place and got me to stand up and see how it looked and felt. It was awesome.
She suggested that I travel in the hoodie and joggers, and went and suggested that Jake did the same (he had already decided that’s what he’d wear). With the loose pants in place my padding didn’t look too obvious and I was so happy with what auntie had done I gave her a huge hug and kiss.
All the way through our flight I wanted to go for a pee but decided I’d try and hold out until we landed. I don’t know why I made that choice seeing as how I was so adamant that I needed my protection but it pleased me that I could do so. However, I was so desperate to go when we were being driven to our hotel that I couldn’t hold out any longer and had my first wetting experience in the capital.
When we got to our room, mum and auntie were sharing one and Jake and I had another, which was connected by a door, auntie whisked me to the bathroom and, armed with all the stuff she needed, cleaned me up before anyone else was aware. This time, instead of a diaper, auntie decided that as we would be going out and seeing the sights, I’d feel better wearing a pair of briefs, which I happily slipped into.
***
The view across the city from our room was fantastic and we were eager to explore as soon as possible. Looking out of the window Jake was busy trying to pinpoint exactly where certain places were but in the end had to admit he had no idea. We were just about to go out for a meal when the heavens opened up and it began to pour down so we ended up eating in the hotel’s restaurant, which was very nice but we wanted to see the sights. The weather stopped us going much further but as the hotel was huge, and had loads of things to do, we changed our plans and played in the ‘Games Arcade’, while mum and auntie sat in the lounge opposite drinking coffee and chatting.
At one point I went to ask mum for some more money but I wanted to check out another area for kids. Sadly it was for those who were much younger and although I was tempted to jump in the ball pool, I decided that a ten year-old should be more responsible. However, that little trip took me in a circular route and I ended coming up behind mum and auntie. I wasn’t being sneaky or anything but I over-heard mum saying to her sister that she was dreading tomorrow and was finding it difficult to explain her plans to us. Auntie suddenly caught my eye and, as my heart sank, she swiftly changed the subject.
I knew all my worries had been for a reason and the realisation I was right gave me a queer, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was strange that, although we knew that this trip might mean an eventual move, to have it confirmed like this had an unfortunate effect. I wish had still been wearing my protection as it would have come in useful.
This story is written by Les Lea
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