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Alvin Ever After:

Alvin in the First

A mini-novel by Danny

 

 

NOW AWAY WE GO...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

__________

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At first he didn’t respond.

“Did you hear me?” I asked.

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

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

MAINE?” Gary blurted out.

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

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

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

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

When he asked me about Maine I didn’t know how to respond to him except to shrug my shoulders and tell him that it wasn’t John’s idea, “It’s my mom’s idea. Well I mean sort of...” I trailed off before adding, “Actually it was grandpa and grandma Gains idea.”

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

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

“When?” he asked sounding choked up.

“Friday,” I said huffing and puffing.

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

“But I don’t have my trunks?” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

__________

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gary!” I cheered when I saw him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

__________

 

DAY ONE ON THE ROAD

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait!” Mom called after me.

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

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

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

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

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

Alvin, are you ok?” I heard mom ask and she sounded close... too close!

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

“Are you almost done?” she asked.

“Almost!” I shouted back.

“Do you need any help?” she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As I was closing the door I sniffed the hand I’d wiped with and nearly retched. “Can we still stop at the rest area ahead?” I asked while fastening my seatbelt and trying to touch it as little as possible. I was so glad when mom didn’t ask any questions.

At the rest stop I first washed my hands then found an empty stall. I pulled my pants back down and, “Aw man!” I groaned when I saw the heavy brown racing strip I’d left in my underwear. It took six more wipes before my crack was clean but it wouldn’t stay that way once I pulled my underwear back up. Not knowing what else to do I decided that I’d just take off my underwear and leave them there in the stall for some poor unfortunate soul to find once I had gone.

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

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

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

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

 

__________

 

DAY TWO ON THE ROAD

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They both stopped between the pond and us to talk for a few minutes. The girl told us that if we walked back the way they had just come, about ten minute or so there were wild berries. The boy added, “Make your tongue turn purple too.” And then proved it by sticking out his tongue for us all to see. I got the feeling that the boy wasn’t exactly normal; like maybe he had some sort of slight mental handicap. However I could be wrong about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

__________

 

DAY THREE ON THE ROAD

 

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

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

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

Once we started out again we only went about a half hour before we stopped to see the Aztec Ruins in New Mexico. That was actually really cool because you can climb all over the Aztec Ruins.

It was there that I met Matt, Willey and Luke. They were my age and they were triplet brothers but they didn’t look anything alike. Come to find out they were from California too but they live in the northern part of the state and were on their way back home. They also weren’t on vacation with their parents; they were with their Scout Troop and were returning from a Scouts Jamboree in Georgia. I met some of the others in their troop but I don’t remember any of their names. It was kind of cool that they were there when we were and I hung out with them most of the time. They even invited me to have lunch with them and after begging mom and John to let me the four of us ran to where their Scout Troop was getting a fire ready.

That is when I met their Scout Master; now his name I can remember for some stranger reason! It was Jerry Walker. Jerry was a really cool guy and let me use his Scout knife to make myself a stick to roast a hotdog on. I felt a little sorry for the three scouts that were trying to get the fire going because the guys were really giving them a hard time about how long it was taking them. They actually made the fire using a piece of flint and a knife. I know I couldn’t ever do that so I wasn’t complaining when it took them a few tries to get it going.

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

“OH MY GOD! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!” he shouted, “YOU ARE ALVIN HOLLOWAY!”

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

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

“NO GUYS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” The kid squealed again, “HE’S A SURFING LEGEND!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That kid with the glasses was shaking like a leaf and he was so wound up that if he had cut a fart he probably would have shot into orbit.

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

“Anyone have a camera?” Mom asked.

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

 

 

__________

 

DAY FOUR ON THE ROAD

 

We ended up being there at the Aztec Runes so long that by the time we got going again it was already late in the day. I don’t know when we stopped for the night; I just remember waking up the following morning and finding myself lying on the backseat with the blue plastic tarp wrapped around me like I were a big blue burrito. Inside the plastic I was soaked to the bone and shivering because it had got fairly cold that night.

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

When I woke up I had to go number two very earnestly and I wasn’t even halfway to the rest stop building before the smell hit me. I can only think of one word to describe the smell and that would be RUDE! The smell was so bad and I couldn’t stand it so soon after eating my breakfast; I immediately spun on my heals and hurled every last bit of my food back up.

After I had blew my breakfast all over a nearby bush I took in as deep a breath as my lungs would hold, then turned back around and ran as fast as I could into the crap-house. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single hole vacant and to make matters worse there were two men ahead of me. I held my breath as long as I could but it wasn’t long enough. This tall dark skinned man who was in line directly ahead of me looked down at me and asked, “You ok kid?” Unable to hold my breath any long I released what little air there was left in my lungs and sucked in frantically. “Oh god!” I gasped and quickly covered my mouth and nose with my shirt and hands.

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

I shook my head without uncovering my mouth and nose.

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

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

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

“A loaf in the oven?” I thought, “Who the heck talks like that?” With exaggerated movement I nodded while trying to breathe shallowly threw the fabric of my shirt; the fact that it was wet with stale pee didn’t matter to me right then. I hadn’t noticed that I was dancing back and forth from one foot to the other until the man brought it to my attention.

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

Normally when I am around a smell for a while, good or bad, my nose gets use to it and I can no longer smell it but not this time. That smell was so bad that every breath was sheer horror! When I was finished wiping myself I didn’t bother to stop and wash my hands; I just wanted out of that place as fast as possible.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

__________

 

DAY FIVE ON THE ROAD

 

In Ohio we were going to stop at the National Aviation Heritage Museum but it cost way too much and was insanely crowded so instead we went and saw the Wright Brothers bicycle shop which didn’t cost anything at all.

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

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

When mom and John explained to him that we were on our way to our new lives in Maine and said that we needed to get going again he insisted that we have dinner with him and his family. He said something like, “Now what sort of Christian would I be if I let pilgrims like yourselves leave with empty bellies and such a negative impression of Ohio’s people?”

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

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

I don’t think Jacquelyn’s brothers much liked me being so nice with their sister because they kept bugging us and wouldn’t let us alone. But she told them to butt-out and even punched two of them when they wouldn’t stop staring at me as if I was going to be their next meal.

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

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

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

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

She was wringing her hands while staring down at her orange shoe laces. “I heard your mom saying that you still wet the bed.” Now I had heard the term ‘wet the bed’ before but only a couple times. Where I come from, the term is ‘wet the sheet’ but even still I knew what she meant. Before I could get mad or embarrassed or say anything she quickly blurted out, “But I don’t care! I like you and I promise I won’t ever tell! And please don’t be mad at me!” She then threw her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder while she hugged me.

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

Unfortunately Jacquelyn wasn’t the only one that over heard my mom’s conversation and within minutes all seven of her brothers knew. They started teasing me and saying things like, “I don’t want the little baby sleeping in my room!” and “He should have to sleep in the bathtub!” and worst of all, “Since he’s not house broken I bet mom will make him sleep outside in the dog house!”

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

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

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

Alvin?” she started and I could tell by her tone that I wasn’t going to like whatever she was about to say. She said my name again then sighed heavily before holding out what at first I thought was some kind of funny looking towel wrapped in plastic. Then she said, “I think you should wear this to bed tonight.”

I honestly didn’t get it. “Why should I wear a towel?” I asked her.

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

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

I tell you what, Sherlock Holmes I am not because I was still clueless. I crinkled up my nose and asked, “How’s it going to do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So let me see!” she said.

“See what?” I asked.

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

“HEY!” I complained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh!” she said and got up.

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

She brought the blanket back over to me but before covered me back up she knelt down and pulled my pajama bottoms back up. She was smiling so gleefully as she did it and after tucking the blanket around me she kissed me again only this time she did it slow and for what seemed like a long time.

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

I’m not sure if I said good night back or not. I must have laid there staring at the darkened ceiling for over an hour. My mind and my heart wouldn’t slow down so that I could go to sleep. When I did fall to sleep I woke up a few hours later because I felt cold. I rose up on my elbows to see that I’d kicked off my blanket. For half a second I thought about leaving it off but then I was worried that one of Jacquelyn brothers or her parents might come in and realize that I was wearing a diaper. It never even occurred to me that the diaper might have been her parent’s idea.

 

__________

 

DAY SIX ON THE ROAD

 

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

And then panic set in.

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

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

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

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

John heaved a heavy sigh, “Oh no! Don’t tell me the diaper didn’t work?”

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

He half smiled, knelt down, pulled the blanket back and felt the sheet around me. “Well I’ll be,” he prattled, “it did work! That’s terrific!”

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

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

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

“Tell you what; just lie back and let your old dad see how rusty his changing skills are.” John said pushing on my chest until I was lying flat on my back.

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

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

“Cold?” he asked.

I think I nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“John did it!” I said accusingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

“Oh, alright!” I surrendered and ran back to the car where I found that John had built a cool camp fire. Apparently the camp grounds also sells fire wood for a nominal fee. Since I was too busy running around I hadn’t yet had my dinner so John stuck a couple hotdogs onto a sharpened stick and gave it to me to roast over the fire. While I ate my hotdogs mom made us S’mores which by the way are better when made over an open fire then an open oven door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep your voice down,” she said, “No body will see and besides no one here knows you or will ever get to see you again. And if someone did manage to see you they probably won’t even remember come morning.”

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

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

Moooooooom!” I tried to protest but she told me to cover up with a sheet and go to sleep. It took quite a while for me to fall to sleep because I couldn’t shut my brain off. I kept thinking about Jacquelyn, how she kissed me both times and what she had said to me just before we left.

 

__________

 

DAY SEVEN ON THE ROAD

 

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

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

Canada,” John answered.

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

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

“Hungry?” John asked.

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

“That’s my boy!” John started to say, “Sharpest tool in the shed!”

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

“But...” I started to object but stopped when I realize I didn’t know what to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now lie down!” she ordered and I reluctantly laid myself on the seat.

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

“Oh!” She said as if a light bulb had gone on above her head, “Honey, could you see if there is a bigger pair of pants in one of the bags of clothes they gave us.”

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

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

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

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

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

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