Backroads, Part 1 of 3 [Tier 3] (Patreon)

[Note from QH: There are references and allusions to abuse and abusive situations in this story. While I’ve made an effort not to glorify such behavior–as a piece of erotica, there are some moments where the line between ‘dangerous’ and ‘exciting’ can be a little fuzzy. I just want to be up front about this in case it’s a subject that you wouldn’t feel comfortable reading about. As always, I’m happy to chat about it with you if you have any feedback on how this was handled.]

Chapter 1: Stuck in Places That Aren’t Good for You

I’m not saying that Tradd County is bereft of any charm or goodness. However, I will say that the ratio of good qualities to bad are pretty disproportionate. Whatever charm the region has, I think I experienced enough of it in my first 18 years of life that I’ll be just fine without ever experiencing it again.

Ten years later, I still avoid the area whenever possible. If I have to travel through the state, I’ll usually take whatever route that doesn’t take me through Tradd–even if it adds another hour or two to my travel time. And if I absolutely have to be there, I make my trip as short as I can.

Look, it’s not some wasteland. It’s not an expanse of crime-ridden ghettos. Hell, if you didn’t know any better, you’d drive through it and think that it’s pretty nice. Pretty rural scenery. Little towns of mom-and-pop shops. Friendly folks who wave at everyone. The bad stuff is just under the surface–in places you wouldn’t see unless you spent too much time there.

It’s a place immune to change or progress. A place that’s just far enough off of the beaten path that people can get away with doing whatever they want to do. Men are men–kings of their domain. Women are whatever the men want them to be. Tradd County is a place for a very specific kind of person. And you’ll probably know, sooner than later, if you’re that kind of person or not. Lord help you if you’re not.

Alas, I found myself on the backroads of Tradd County once again. My father had passed away the year before, which I had hoped would’ve closed the book on my connection with Tradd. As it turned out, the old man had the nerve to leave me his property in the will–property that I couldn’t wait to sell and profit from. As tempting as it would be to just sell it as-is and be done with it, I could see an opportunity to at least make a few extra bucks by cleaning it up a little.

Usually I couldn’t drive fast enough to get a trip through Tradd over with, but I was feeling calmed by a sense of finality–like the giant burden that I had worn on my shoulders for my whole life was finally being lifted. I would be free of this damn place soon enough. And so I thought I’d slow it down a little and just take in the rural splendor that I had usually taken for granted.

It was like driving through an entirely new world. The sprawling fields and farms. The way the roads were weaved through the trees of the dense forests. It almost made me mad that all this splendor was tainted by the legacy of the dolts who lived around here.

Of course, it was this slower pace–and my willingness to soak in all the details of the scenery one last time–that caused me to see something that I might’ve missed on any other trip. Something I probably wasn’t supposed to have seen.

I came down Hendricks Hill–a locally famous deathtrap of a downward spiral in the winter months–when my eyes caught a flash of white amongst the dense trees to my left. For a moment, I was tempted to just keep driving. It probably wasn’t anything actually noteworthy. A big rock, maybe. An exceptionally thick birch tree. Maybe it was just a plastic bag hanging from a tree branch.

I couldn’t say what brought me back. As a general rule, I try not to be too curious about what’s going on in Tradd–you usually find out that you’re better off not knowing. But I was on my ‘Farewell Tradd County Tour’ and the last thing I wanted was some lingering sense of curiosity when I crossed the county line for the last time. I checked my rearview mirror, finding that there was nobody else on the road. I slowed to a stop, put the car in reverse, and slowly rolled backwards to see if I could find the mystery object again.

It wasn’t hard to spot.

And it wasn’t an ‘it’ at all. It was a person.

She was about four yards back from the road, in a cluster of trees. And she was completely naked–save for what looked like a pair of white panties. And she was…

No, that can’t be right.

But the more I stared at her out of my rolled-down window, the more sure I was–this near-naked woman was tied to a tree by rope.

Goddammit. Just when I thought I was free of Tradd County, it found a way to sink its teeth into me once more. Because I couldn’t just drive away now. I had to do something about this.

I checked my rearview one more time. Nobody. I scanned the area around us. There was nobody else. I sighed and put the car in park, though I left the car running. I fumbled around in the glove box until I found an old utility knife and got out.

“Are you alright?” I called out to her. What a stupid question. What was I expecting the response to be? “Oh sure, doing just ducky over here. Hanging out at my favorite tree is all.”

“Y-you don’t have to help me,” she said.

I scoffed. No, I might have actually laughed. What a fucking absurd thing to say while tied to a tree.

“Well I sure as hell can’t just drive away,” I said as I stepped off the road, hurdling the ditch so I could make my way towards her. “Who did this to you?”

“D-don’t get involved,” she said. “This doesn’t concern you.”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re tied to a tree. Naked. Out here in the middle of nowhere–but where anyone could see you if they drove by. This concerns me. I’m concerned.”

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. I could see the look on her face–one part terrified and one part relieved to see someone.

“I gotta get you down,” I said, holding up the utility knife so she could see it. “And then we’re gonna call the cops and…”

We both laughed. There’s a little joke in Tradd County: When’s the last time you’ve seen a cop car around here? The unspoken punchline is that you haven’t. There may not even be any cop cars around. Out here, disconnected from the rest of the world, folks take it upon themselves to dispense ‘justice.’ It’s what attracts the people who move here, and it’s what pushes out anyone else.

“You don’t want to be tied to this tree,” I said. “I’m sure of that. I’m going to cut you down.”

“But…if Dan sees…”

I don’t know who Dan is, and it’s really not all that relevant. “Did Dan tie you to this tree?”

“Y-yeah.”

I don’t want to just gawk at her nude body, so I try not to look directly at her as I step over branches and logs. But I catch glances of her as I get closer. She looks to be about my age, maybe a little younger. Shoulder-length brown hair. There’s other observations I want to make, though I do my best to suppress them. I absolutely should not be thinking about how she’s got a cute face. Or that I like her curvy profile.

There’s something else that I notice as I get closer, too. A stench in the air. Growing up in Tradd, I’m no stranger to off smells. You’re never far from a pig farm, a rotting racoon in the woods, or just a muddy river bank. But this still seems different from all that. Frankly, it smells like shit.

“So what the fuck happened?” I asked as I got closer. “This guy just…tied you to a tree and drove off? How long are you supposed to be here?”

“Uhm…until tonight,” she said. “He’ll come back. He always does.”

“Jesus H. Christ. So he’s done this shit before?”

“Well, uh… Look, I know it sounds bad, but this is how he, uhm, keeps me in line.”

I’m furious. I want to know where this ‘Dan’ lives so I can go and punch him in the face. I want to take my utility knife and…

No, no. Calm down and take a deep breath. You’re so close to being done with Tradd forever. Don’t get dragged back in.

When I reached her, I made some more observations. For one, there were bruises and scrapes on her skin. I didn’t want to assume, but I could speculate where some of the injuries might have come. Also, she wasn’t wearing panties. She’s wearing, of all things, a diaper. A large, bloated, white adult diaper that sagged between her legs. I couldn’t help but notice the bottom of it was stained–a swirl of yellow and brown. Suddenly, the stench in this area makes sense. She’s been tied to a tree in a diaper, given no choice but to expel herself into it.

She made one final plea for me to leave her be: “Please. You don’t have to do this.”

“Like hell I don’t.”

Around the back of the tree, where the ropes are tied, I made a half-assed attempt at making sense of the knots. Maybe, with a little more patience, I could just untie her. Instead, I went to work sawing at the ropes. There’s a few of them, some holding her legs in place, some for her torso and chest, and one keeping her hands bound together around the tree. I cut them all, letting each fall to the ground.

“What time does this Dan guy come back?” I asked.

“Later,” she said. “When he’s done at work.”

“Alright. Look, I can get you out of here if you come with me. That’s my truck over there. It’s not that far.”

“Where?” she asked.

“Literally anywhere other than here.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

But I scan the path I took to get to her from the road, observing the rocks, sharp sticks, and logs that I had to traverse. I’m not sure how she’ll fare without shoes of her own.

“I think I can carry you,” I said. “Would you let me do that?”

“I…I can just walk.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The last thing you need is a stick going into your foot.”

She sighs. “O-okay…”

Growing up on a farm had given me plenty of experience in carrying heavy things. Bags of feed. Hay bales. Animals. I didn’t think I was in quite the same shape that I was in my teen years, but I was pretty sure I could manage for the short distance.

“Look, this is going to be awkward, but just bear with me here.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist, feeling my fingers press into the top of the squishy diaper. I carefully pulled her into my shoulder and proceeded to hoist her into the air, hauling her like a bag of animal feed. From there, I slowly plodded my way back, choosing the least obstructed path back while I watched for low hanging branches that might strike her legs or head. And then I made it back to my car.

Not that long before, I had a bag of clothes in the trunk–some old gym clothes I kept in a duffel bag, with the hopes that I’d someday be using them. I finally gave up on that notion, and took the bag out, leaving me with nothing that I could off her.

I could at least give her the shirt off my back. I took off my button-down flannel and draped it over her shoulders–leaving me in just a black tee. I doubted it’d close over her ample breasts, but it was something.

“Look, I don’t really have anything for you to wear instead of your, uh, underpants.”

“Diaper,” she said, saying it for me.

“Right, right. I know it’s probably not going to be comfortable, but maybe it’s better you just keep it on for now? Keep it all, uh, contained? Once we get out of here, I can stop and get you some actual clothes.”

She nodded. “That’s okay with me. But…”

“But?”

“Well, uhm…it’s not exactly clean. I don’t want to make your car, uhm…smell.”

“That’s the least of my concerns,” I said. “Let’s get you out of here first. We can figure out the rest later.”

I watched her face as she slowly eased herself into my passenger seat. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have to sit down in such a disgusting garment. Her face was flush with humiliation and discomfort. I wanted to apologize to her, but what did I have to be sorry for? I didn’t do this to her. I was trying to fix things.

No sooner than I had pulled back onto the road and began driving again, I could see tears streaming down her face.

“Are you okay?” Another stupid question for me to ask.

“I…I’ll be fine.”

“This has happened before?” I asked. “Like, him tying you to a tree? The diapers?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Why? Why would he do that?” I ask, knowing that there’s no acceptable answer she could give.

“It’s…a punishment.”

“What could you possibly have done to deserve that?”

She shrugged. “It’s just the way it is.”

That wasn’t exactly an answer, but I also wasn’t going to press it. I had to take a deep breath and compose myself again. It doesn’t help anyone if I was so mad that I couldn’t think straight. I decided to move on, and focus on the now. But I wasn’t going to forget about ‘Dan’ either.

“Do you have family?” I ask. “Friends? Anyone else you can stay with?”

“My mom lives down south. Like way down south.”

“If we need to get you down there, I can help you find a way.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “Maybe I should just go back home…”

“I’m not going to take you there,” I said. “I’ll take you anywhere else, though.”

Ultimately, I’m not her dad. I’m not her lover. We’re not even friends. She’s just a stranger I untied from a tree. I can take her back to my place, but I know I can’t–and I won’t–hold her prisoner. If she decides to leave and go back to Dan, there’s nothing that I can do about it. I was clear with myself about that, just in case it was important later.

“My name is Gus,” I finally said after a few minutes of silence. I had rolled down the window some–her diaper’s stench was a bit thick. I felt bad doing it, but I hoped she understood.

“Marjorie,” she said, staring out the window.

“I could take you back to my place to get cleaned up. But…that’s a long ways away from here.”

“How far away is that?”

“It’s, uh, not close. We’ll be driving for another two and a half hours.”

She doesn’t respond, and I take that as an indication that she’s not thrilled with the idea of being stuck in this car for that long while in this state.

A thought occurs to me, though. There is another place I could take her that’s much closer.

“Actually, I do have a place nearby that I could take you to.”

“Oh?”

“It’s my, uh, Dad’s place. Nobody lives there now. I was actually headed there anyway. I could take you there if you want to get cleaned up. I’m not sure what’s there in terms of clothing, but I’m sure we could find you something.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly. I’m glad that I was there to help, honestly.”

She nodded.

I wasn’t sure if I should be asking more questions about her situation or not–maybe it’d have been better if I just avoided the topic altogether–but I couldn’t help myself. “Has nobody else ever seen you out there? Tied up like that?”

“Yeah. They see me.”

“And they don’t stop? Help?”

She shook her head. She didn’t elaborate, but she probably didn’t have to. I’ve seen the people who live around here. I’ve grown up with them. There’s the people who probably saw her and didn’t care. The people who saw her and felt she deserved it. And the people who went out of their way to see her, because they knew she was there.

Maybe you shouldn’t speculate so much. You don’t actually know.

No, but I think I do.

I had an unopened bottle of water I had purchased on the drive to Tradd that morning, and I offered it to her. She took it, guzzling the entire thing in just a minute or two.

“I might, uhm, leak,” she said, wiping the excess water from her lips with her wrist. “If not now…eventually.”

I almost asked what she meant by that, only to remember what she was wearing. Was the implication that the diaper–in its current state–would eventually leak? Or that, inevitably, she’d be using it again, and that could cause it to leak?

I kept those questions to myself and just nodded. “Don’t worry about it. One thing at a time.”

It wasn’t that far of a drive to my Dad’s place, but with the tension in the car, it felt a lot longer. It was mostly silent–I had tried a few times to make small talk, but she seemed pretty distracted. Not that I could blame her.

The windows of all four doors were completely rolled down, and the flow of air helped mitigate the ripeness of her diaper. I was careful not to mention the diaper itself or even the smell. But that didn’t mean I didn’t have questions–I had plenty of those. Like, for starters, why diapers? How does that even happen? Whose fucked up idea was that?

But… Also? I’m aware of another little thought in the back of my mind. I try not to dwell on it too long–fearful that it’ll make me just as much of a monster as this Dan guy. But seeing her in my passenger seat–barely clothed and in a plump diaper–it’s almost kind of…cute.

I know, I know. I’m the fucking worst.

Eventually, I pulled into the long gravel driveway of my Dad’s place. I had forgotten what a sanctuary the place is–a secluded little cabin that seems to have held up pretty well, despite nobody living here for a year. Of course, it hasn’t gone completely ignored. An old family friend, Heidi, had been making occasional trips over to keep the yard maintained. And just a week ago, I made arrangements with the power company to make sure the power would be back on so I could get some work done around the place.

“It’s not much,” I said. “But this is better than a tree.”

“It looks really nice,” she replied.

I extend a hand to her to help her out from my car. Once more, I see her face as she’s lifted from the seat–a look of sad disgust as her diaper shifts and sags between her legs once more. I open the door with my key and we enter. It’s a little dusty, but otherwise it looks as if absolutely nothing had changed since when my father was alive.

“I doubt there’s much in the way of food,” I said. “I had my cousin throw it all away a while back. But…”

“First thing’s first, I think I need…”

“Right, right, let’s get you to the shower.”

I take her to my father’s old bedroom, which would not only give her access to the master bath, but the bedroom itself would give her all the room she needed to get dry off and relax.

I quickly check the bathroom, finding a few random bottles of soap and shampoo are still on the shelves. Ditto for towels and toilet paper.

“There’s towels in the bathroom. Some toiletries too. Not much, honestly, but go ahead and use whatever you need.”

“Water and soap should do most of the job,” she said. Her cheeks seemed perpetually blushed–not unexpected, given what she was still wearing.

“Look, do you want me to get you some clothes? Because…”

“Do you have anything I could wear?” she asked.

“It’s been quite a while since a woman has lived here,” I said, trying to think if there might be anything around. “I’ll figure something out, though. Why don’t you hop in the shower.”

She nodded, hastily waddling into the bathroom–her bloated diaper jostling with every step–before the door quickly closed behind her.

The further I got from my bedroom, the stranger this situation suddenly seemed.

I’m at Dad’s house with a woman I don’t know.

There’s a woman taking a shower in Dad’s bathroom right now. And I have to get her some clothes because she doesn’t have any of her own.

There’s a woman in Dad’s house because I found her in the fucking woods today.

There’s a woman in Dad’s house, that I found in the woods, who was wearing a fucking diaper. A diaper that she had, like, used. A lot.

I check all of the closets and dressers I can find in the house, but there’s not much to offer. There’s plenty of my father’s clothes, but they’d probably be a bit too big.

I did have an idea though. I’m not thrilled about having to drag Heidi into this situation, but I know she’ll help. And, I think she’s about the same size as Marjorie.

She answered the phone with: “Everything alright?”

“Why would you assume that something’s wrong?”

“Well, I can’t think of the last time you called me just to say hello.”

She’s probably right. When I think of the last few times I’ve had to reach out to her, it was to ask if she could take care of something at Dad’s house. The guilt stings a little, but I have to swallow my pride and ask for yet another favor.

“I know, I know. I’m not a great cousin.”

“Save it. Just, uh, lemme know what you need.”

“I’m actually over at my dad’s place now…”

“Oh yeah? Do you need help with something? I could swing by.”

It’s easy to forget that there’s good in Tradd County. Heidi is good. She might’ve given me a hard time about it, but I could always count on her to lend a hand when I needed her.

“I have a really weird request,” I said.

“I’m a little nervous.”

“I can’t explain the whole situation over the phone, but I’ve got, uhm, someone here at the house with me. And she’s in a bit of a bind and, uh…doesn’t have any clothes?”

“Gus! You naughty boy. What kinda trouble are you getting into?”

“I swear, it’s even weirder than you think it is. I just need some clothes. Anything. Some pants. Shirts. Underwear. Whatever you can spare.”

“Underwear? You’ve got a girl over and she’s not wearing any underwear?”

“Like I said, it’s a really weird story.”

“I dunno how I feel about lending a stranger my underpants…”

“I get that. But I’m not kidding when I say that she doesn’t have anything.”

She sighed. “Alright, yeah. I can be over in, like, ten minutes?”

“Perfect. Thank you, Heidi.”

Waiting in my father’s living room, I found myself pacing a little. I pulled open the curtains and looked outside from time to time. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. Some guy’s rusty old pickup truck pulling into my driveway, maybe. Some guy with an overgrown beard and a pair of overalls and a pitchfork.

“Where’s my lady! I’m gonna kill ya!”

But there’s nobody around. Nobody saw us. Somewhere past Hendricks Hill–either at that moment, or not too long after–Dan was going to show up, find the cut ropes, and realize that someone had absconded with Marjorie–diaper and all.

A perfect crime–though it felt like the actual crime had been committed long before I showed up.

I hated Dan. I knew nothing about him. In fact, I didn’t even have all the context for why he had tied Marjorie to a tree. But I couldn’t imagine more context making me hate him even less. I fantasized about going back there. I’d wait in the woods for him to show up. He’d be all distraught about his Marjorie being gone, only for me to step out of the darkness. With my fist pulled back, I’d…

A familiar maroon minivan pulled into the driveway behind my car. Seeing Heidi step out of the car reminded me just how long it had been since I had actually seen her. Probably Dad’s funeral. I quickly rushed outside to meet her.

We hugged in the driveway, her strong arms wrapped around me to hold me tight. Despite being a year younger than me, she had always been a nurturing presence in my life. She was like my older sister. Sometimes she was like the mother I never had.

“Have you been working out?” I asked.

“Still raising goats,” she said. “It comes with the territory. I’m always shoveling shit or moving bags of feed around. And what about you?” she asked, playfully punching me in the arm. “You look a little softer than the last time I saw you.”

“The suburban life,” I shrugged. “I forgot that living around here was like having a free gym membership.”

She reached into the minivan and pulled out a backpack. “I brought some stuff. Where’s this, uh, naked girl of yours?”

“In the house, taking a shower.”

“So, what’s her deal? Raised by wolves?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“Found her tied to a tree down by Hendricks Hill.”

Heidi sighed. “Shit.”

“You…know about that?”

“Not first hand. I heard a rumor about something like that a while ago. Obviously I didn’t believe it because it was fucking ridiculous.”

“Wait. What did you hear?”

“Dan Trumbauer, do you know him? Uncle Rick used to work with his dad over at the lumber mill. He’s a popular dickhead over in Sennet Mill.”

“Don’t know him.” But the name ‘Dan’ checked out.

“He’s been telling anyone who’ll listen to him that when he gets pissy with his girl, he locks her out of the house without any clothes on. Most people just think he’s bullshitting, though I’m sure there’s more than a few other asshats who at least wish that he’s telling the truth. But you’re telling me that she was tied to a fucking tree?”

I sighed as I led her into the house. “It’s worse than that.”

“Naked?” she asked.

“Somehow even worse than that.”

“How? How does it get worse?”

“She was in a, uh…” The word felt lodged in my throat. It’s so bizarre–so cruel–that it still felt surreal to have to say. “...diaper. She was tied to a tree in a fucking diaper.”

I expected her to doubt me, but all I saw was rage in her eyes. It’s a familiar rage.

“Come on,” I said to her. “Let’s go inside. We can talk about this Dan guy later. I want to help her out right now.”

She nodded and followed me into the house.

“Hey,” a voice said from the hallway. It was Marjorie. Her hair was wet, hanging in stands around her face. She was wearing an old t-shirt–probably something she found in my father’s dresser. It’s so big that it looks like a small dress on her. While I was sure it wasn’t her first choice, it was the most ‘normal’ I had seen her look since we first met.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Better,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Hey, there’s someone I want you to meet,” I said, pointing to Heidi. “This is my cousin Heidi. She’s brought some clothes over for you. And, uh, just so you know…I filled her in on everything. Heidi, this is Marjorie.”

Marjorie’s cheeks blushed again. “Th-thank you. I really appreciate the clothes. But, I, uhm, have to get rid of this…” She held up a small trash bag, tied shut. It was probably from the trash can in the bathroom, though it looked like most of the bag was filled with her old diaper.

“Here, I can take that,” I said. “There should still be a trash can out back.”

“N-no, I should probably do it. You shouldn’t have to worry about this.”

I wasn’t about to fight her to dispose of her dirty diaper, but I would’ve done it if she had just handed it over.

“Just give it to me,” Heidi said, stepping towards her.

“But…”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll take care of this, and you can take a look through this bag and see if there’s any clothes you want.”

“Okay,” Marjorie said, cautiously handing the bag to Heidi. “I’m sorry if it…uhm…smells bad.”

“I shovel goat shit everyday,” Heidi shrugged. “A tied up bag ain’t gonna kill me.” She took the bag and walked through the house and out the back door.

“Look,” I said. “It’s over now. No more trees. No more Dan. No more…diapers.”

She nodded, biting her lip nervously.

“Do you want my phone? You can call anyone you need to call. Your mother? A, uh, divorce attorney?”

“W-we weren’t married.” She sighed. “I should probably call my mother. She hasn’t heard from me in a while.”

“You mean, like, since this morning? Yesterday?”

“Oh, it’s been…months.”

“Marjorie, did this guy, like, abduct you?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “We were, uhm, together. A couple. I chose to be there. Well, at first. And then…you know how it goes.”

I laughed, thinking about the state she had been in when I first found her. “No. No, I don’t think that I have any idea how that goes.”

“I’d like to call my mother eventually,” she said. “I think I just need to…do nothing for a little bit. I’m exhausted. And feeling really embarrassed. And…hungry.”

“First of all, you’re welcome to take a nap anywhere you want. Any bed or couch you see, it’s all yours.”

She nodded.

“As for feeling embarrassed, I get that. I mean, I can’t imagine what you must’ve gone through. But I understand why you’d feel that way. We’re not going to judge you.”

She blushed again, her hand running through her damp hair.

“Hunger. Yeah, I could go for some food too.”

“You’re not going to find any here,” Heidi said, returning to the room. “Tossed it all out a while back. But if y’all want to get in the van, we can go pick something up. Haulston’s not far away.”

“N-no,” Marjorie said, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. That’s where Dan works. And he’s got friends in town. If anybody there sees me…”

“Don’t start thinking that you’re supposed to be tied up right now,” Heidi said, arms crossed in front of her. “If anyone so much as lifts an eyebrow towards you, I’ll kick ‘em right in the gut.”

“Look,” I interjected. “Maybe it’s better if Marjorie just stays here with me. That way she doesn’t have to feel uncomfortable if she sees anyone she knows.”

“That’s fair,” Heidi nodded. “I’ll grab some food. Some pizza, maybe? I can grab a few things for the house too. Just in case.”

“That’s a good idea. Is there anything else you need?” I asked Marjorie.

“W-well… I probably do need one other thing. But I think I’d feel better if I just came with you and got it myself.”

“Just take a beat and chill,” Heidi replied. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you.”

Marjorie sighed, clearly struggling with saying whatever it was she needed. I could see the gears turning in her mind as she debated whether or not she wanted to say what she needed.

Finally: “I need, uhm, diapers.”

“No,” I said. “You don’t. You’re not going back on a fucking tree again. We’re past that. We’re going to help make sure that you don’t ever have to deal with any of that malarkey again.”

“You don’t understand,” she replied. “I need diapers.”

Heidi, bless her soul, quickly nodded while maintaining a straight face. “Of course. I, er, have never bought adult diapers before, though, so I’m not totally sure what I’m looking for.”

“Anything,” Marjorie said, sheepishly. “Like…maximum protection, or whatever you can find.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Heidi replied. “But I promise I won’t come back empty-handed.”

Soon after, the maroon minivan had rolled back out into the road and was off–leaving Marjorie and I behind in Dad’s old house.

Soon after, we were back in the car again. It still smelled of her rotten diaper. There was a good chance that it would for a while to come too. Admittedly, it wasn’t my favorite scent in the world, but it felt like a small price to pay for a good deed. I’d deal with it.

We took some seats on the couch–her still wearing just the oversized tee–staring at the old tube-TV that my father had still been using up until he died–despite technology having advanced ten times since he bought the old cube. It wasn’t on now, we just stared at the relic like we were at a museum.

“So,” I finally said. “It’s none of my business, but…”

“I’m incontinent,” she said. “Or…mostly. I’ve been having accidents for a while now. Some days are better than others.”

“Right,” I said. “Sorry, maybe it's not my business.”

“Dan…can’t believe that such a thing is possible,” she continued, seeming to ignore what I had said. “He thinks I have ‘accidents’ on purpose.”

“Another reason to dislike Dan.”

“I have to hide the diapers from him and wear them during the day while he’s at work. But when he comes home…the best I can do is hope.”

I sighed and shook my head. “And so when you do have an accident…”

“I get punished. And the punishments get progressively worse.”

Such evil hardly should seem impossible to me. It feels cartoonish–like some dastardly plot a cartoon cat would inflict on a cartoon mouse. But, then again, I have to consider where I am. There’s probably just enough assholes around here who think that Dan handled the situation in the right way.

I know better than to ask why she doesn’t just leave. It’s not exactly the same thing, but I’m reminded of my relationship with Tradd County as a whole–it’s hard to finally pick yourself up and leave the only place you know. Even when that place isn’t all that good for you.

“Are you going to go back? To Dan?”

She sighed again. “I probably shouldn’t. Once he finds out that someone helped me out, things are going to be a lot worse if I go back again.”

“Yeah. I think we should get you out of here. And we’ll help you do that. Anything you need to…”

“Oh shit,” she suddenly muttered. She stood up from the couch, taking a step or two before pausing–her thighs pushed together tightly as her hands clasped the bottom of the shirt into her crotch. “I…I think I’m gonna…”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence, but she didn’t have to. A stream of liquid poured down her legs, pooling on the old hardwood floor beneath her feet. Tears welled in her eyes as her body remained mostly still until it was over.

“Look,” I said, hoping to get ahead of any apologies. “It’s not a big deal. Let me get some paper towels and…”

“I’m such a fucking baby,” she muttered. The tears were rolling down her cheeks now.

“No, no,” I said, trying to sound as calm and comforting as I could. I’d like to think that I’m a nice guy–but the truth is that I spend most of my time by myself. I’m ill-equipped to comfort anyone. “You’re not a baby. You’re an adult woman who just so happens to have a, uh, issue. Everyone has issues.”

There was a mostly-depleted roll of paper towels on the counter of the kitchen, and I wasn’t sure where I’d find more. Maybe this was a job better suited for an actual towel instead. I ran to the bathroom and pulled some out of the linen closet before rushing back to the living room where Marjorie was still standing in her puddle.

“Here.” I said, holding out one of the towels towards her. “You can dry yourself off with that. And then there’s some fresh clothes you can change into in that bag that Heidi brought.”

“But, the floor…”

“I’ll take care of the floor,” I said.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up after me.”

“It’s okay. I’m not holding this against you or anything.”

“But it’s so fucking…icky.”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed by washing my hands,” I said. “And isn’t urine supposed to be sterile?”

“I think that’s a myth,” she said. We both laughed a little. It felt good to get her to crack a smile.

She took a deep breath, and then another. She slowly ran the towel up her legs and under the shirt, and I could see some of her stress dissipate as she dried herself off. I imagined that it didn’t hurt that I was here being supportive–instead of casting her outside without clothes on.

“I’m sorry,” she said, crouching down to go through the clothes in Heidi’s bag.

“You shouldn’t worry about it,” I replied. “It’s not like you can control it, right? I mean, c’mon, even if you did it on purpose, I think you’ve earned that right. After the day you had today?”

She turned and smirked at me. “I have the right to piss myself?”

I shrugged. “I’m just saying. You can pee all over every inch of this house and I’m not going to get mad, alright?”

She laughed–a heartier laugh than the nervous chuckles I had heard previously. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I went back to work on the floor, soaking up her puddle with the other towels.

“You know,” I started, not entirely sure where I was going with this thought. “I’m sure it’s obvious by now, but you really deserve better than a guy like Dan.”

She laughed again, standing up with some clothes tucked between her chest and her arms. “You think?”

“I mean, if I knew my girlfriend had an, uhm, issue like yours, I think I’d want to take care of her–not make her feel humiliated.”

“I don’t need to be cared for,” she said. Her smile wasn’t completely gone, but it had faded enough to indicate that she was being serious. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Right, right,” I said, feeling my cheeks warm. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me today. I must look like the most pathetic human who has ever lived. I swear…I can take care of myself. Usually.”

“I believe that,” I said. “Really.”

“Can I be honest with you, though?”

“I hope so.”

“It’s going to sound a little strange…but today has been kind of nice.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh yeah? You want to, uh, do it all again tomorrow? I’m pretty sure I saw some rope in the other room.”

“Not that part,” she said. “The part where…someone actually did take care of me.”

“Yeah?” I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was a new energy in the room. A tingling feeling when I looked at Marjorie, and when she looked at me. I didn’t want to look too deeply into it, but I also didn’t want to deny that I felt it. I suspected she was feeling it too.

“I’m not used to that.”

“Well, uhm, you’re still here. So if there’s anything else I can do…”

“Have you ever changed a diaper before?”

I laughed, positive that it had been a joke. “Can’t say I have.”

“You should let me know if you ever feel like learning,” she said, walking past me with the clothes in her hand. She kept walking until she was into my father’s bedroom, turning to shoot me the tiniest smirk before closing the door behind her.

If there’s one thing that anyone needs to know about Tradd County, it’s that you rarely have to guess about who someone here really is. They’ll show you. Sure, you’re probably not going to like what you see, but you’ll at least see the truth right away.

I had no doubt that Marjorie was an intelligent woman who was more than capable of taking care of herself if she wanted to. But I saw something else too–and I might have even seen it when she was tied to a tree in just a soiled diaper. I wondered if Dan had seen the same thing that I had, once upon a time, but just lacked the intelligence and sense to handle it in a responsible way.

Marjorie wanted to be cared for. She wanted to be coddled.

She wanted to be the baby.