The New Narnia- Chapter 45: (Patreon)

Chapter 45: Coming Distractions

Everybody's

Got the right

To be happy.

Don't stay mad,

Life's not as bad

As it seems.

If you keep your

Goal in sight,

You can climb to

Any height.

Everybody's

Got the right

To their dreams...

Tommy’s eyes widened. “F-f-free preview?”  He’d gone from bargaining from a position of semi-power to a dog with a steak dangling in front of him.  “No strings?”

“None,” the not-quite-little girl said, smirking.  “Why would there be?” She said innocently. “You’re the one holding all the cards here, Tommy.”

A cacophony of warnings rang out in Tommy’s head.  He felt like Charlie Brown and Lucy was promising that this one time she wouldn’t yank away the football.  Literally every other thing, every other glimpse of fantasy or adventure or paradise he’d been given had been a roundabout way of essentially seducing him and numbing him to losing his own personal adulthood.

“What’s that look for?” Annie asked. “There’s no harm in a free preview. You’re like Charlie.  I already can’t completely regress you.  If I take things too far with your sister, you’ll refuse to tell me and I’ll be left wondering.”

Tommy’s eyes squinted suspiciously.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Technically, lots.” Annie said.  “As far as this, though, I’m being completely up front.  The only way I win is by giving you what you want, too.”  Tommy pouted his lip, his paranoia at war with his desire.  “It’s okay to want it.”  She told him.  “Most people do.”  

He looked down at himself and then over to the dutch door separating this room from the baby room.  He’d already been paraded around in public multiple times.  Being around other people like him might do him some good.  It would at least give him perspective.

“Okay,” Tommy nodded.  “What do I have to do?”

“Poop your pants.”

Tommy blinked.  He hadn’t expected to hear it said so brazenly.  “What?”

“Poop your pants,” Annie repeated herself.  

“Why?”

“Because it’s what babies do,” the god-thing said.  “It’s not like you haven’t done it before.  Oh, and no crying, either.  Nothing to show regret or embarrassment.  No need for it.  No point in it.” Then she winked.  “No point in confusing the caretakers either.”

Tommy heaved a sigh.  “Fine.”  There was something of a lump in his gut anyways.  Might as well get it over with.  He inhaled through his nose, closed his eyes, bent his knees, and pushed.  It was more difficult than he’d thought.  Nothing coursing through his system.  Not trapped in a highchair.  He was just a boy trying to poop his pants.

He grunted a bit.  He strained.  A few stray farts came out of him but that was it.  “Don’t think about,” Annie said, though her voice sounded farther off.  “Make it as simple as breathing.”

He pushed and felt something.  Nothing came out of him but he could feel his cheeks spreading.  There was a turtle head starting to breach.   Another push and he could feel the mass starting to come out of him.  And another. And another.  

LIFT OFF!

The lump shot out of him, it’s own weight and inertia taking over and hitting the back of his pants.  It was like nothing after that.  Easy as breathing or flexing a muscle.  Tommy Dean was pooping his pants as naturally as if he’d never done anything else.  Which come to think of it was how most people remembered it anyway.

“Now sit,” Annie told him.  “Take no mind of it.”  Tommy obeyed, settling onto the floor.  He didn’t need to be told to suck this thumb.  He just did..  “Good baby.”

“Uh-oh,” another woman’s voice.  “I know that look.”  

Tommy opened his eyes and the same caregiver who had popped off and left him alone in this preschool playroom had manifested.  Neither Annie nor Nannie was around.  Tommy let out a startled gasp, and felt the front of his Pull-Up warm.  

Without asking, the woman picked Tommy up and pulled back the waist of his pants.  “Yup.  You made a poopy.”  She motioned to an open bathroom door.  “And the potty was just over there.”  Her gaze went to an activity table.  “You don’t seem terribly interested in this big kid stuff, either.”

Quietly, Tommy shook his head, feeling like she talking about more than just alphabet activity sheets and cut and paste decorations.  

“I think it was a bit of an oopsie to put you in the big kid’s room.”  The floor beneath Tommy was starting to whiz by as the comparatively giant woman took big strides towards the dutch door.  “Let’s fix that.”

Tommy tried to reply, but his words turned into delighted shrieks.  Some small part of him wanted to scream out “No! I’m an adult! I’m a grown-up! I’m a big boy!” but the speed at which he was being carried excited and overwhelmed him so.  That, and he didn’t really want to object.

The door was open briefly, then shut  down behind them.  Tommy barely got a good look at the room, before he was plopped down onto what could only be a changing table.  “Don’t squirm, baby,” the caretaker said, pulling a strap over his chest. “I don’t want you falling off.”

“Okay,” Tommy mumbled around his thumb.

The woman made no reply.  “Let’s get your shoes off.  Socks too.”  Tommy wiggled his toes as his digits were freed.  “And I don’t think you need these shorts right now.”  The shorts came off like a magician pulling at a table cloth.  “That’s a start.”

Despite himself, laying there exposed, Tommy felt very unsure of himself.  He thought of the little sighs of frustration he’d been putting his Mommy through.  “I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” the caretaker asked.  Her eyes weren’t quite on Tommy.  She was busying herself with putting on gloves and readying wipes, powder.  “You just pooped.”  She unfolded and smoothed out a fresh Pampers. “It’s what babies do.”

“Am I a baby?” Tommy smiled.  He was being understood.  Good.

“I don’t know what else you’d be,” the lady said.  She took that as a cue to rip the sides of his soiled Pull-Up open.  

Tommy had already had more than a few diaper changes that he could remember.  In that regard, this was no different.  What stood out and made this particular one feel special was the environment around him.

He was on a changing table and fit this time.  He could hear the infantile babbling of people all around him and the rattling and jangling and click-clacking of toys as well as bigger adults playing and encouraging them.  “Good job, Christine! You crawled through the tunnel! Yay!” and “Pattycake, Pattycake, Baker’s Man…”  

The woman who was wiping his behind was positioned so that he could not see directly past her when he tilted his head to the side, and when he craned his neck, his ankles and knees got in the way.  However, he could still see all the dangling mobiles and decorations hanging from the ceiling.  He could still make out the bright and happy colors, and hear children’s songs playing softly in the background.  

“It’s a good thing I noticed this when I did,” the caretaker’s voice was syrupy sweet.  “Those Pull-Ups don’t hold messies very well.  Baby boy would have gotten a rash, and that wouldn’t have been good for nobody. Nope nope nope.  This is much better for you.  You’re still too little to have to worry about big kid things, so why should you? You shouldn’t! You shouldn’t!”  Like talking to a puppy dog, her words came tumbling out and were nothing if not.  “I want a happy baby, not a grumpy one! Not a grumpy one!”

The diaper change was the same with the wipes and the powder, but everything going on above the waist felt different to Tommy.  This wasn’t an impromptu change out in an abandoned field, or even in a crowded park with a diaper bag.  No privacy or seclusion, but no exhibitionism either.

From a quick guess from all the movement and voices he was hearing and common sense about daycares, Tommy guessed that there were a lot more people in diapers than out of them here.  He’d be hard pressed to guess the ratio, but from the different ‘adult’ voices he could pick out, there were a relative handful of caregivers to care receivers; which made sense.  Always more students than teachers.  

Everywhere else he’d been in public or in his  own house, he was in the minority.  Even if the magic of Malacus made others see him as a baby, he’d still been a single small child amongst a sea of adults.  Even if pooping his pants and sucking his thumb was considered ‘normal’ he’d been close to the only one doing it.  In these collected rooms, everyone was doing it.  He was part of the rule and not the exception.

“All done.”  The caretaker said, finishing up the change.  Pull-Ups had once again been traded up for Pampers.  The carpeted floor touched his bare feet.  “I think you can just play today like this.”

Tommy, looked at himself.   Instead of Tommy Dean He looked more like Tommy Pickles. No one would be able to look at him and mistake him for anything other than a little boy toddling around in just a t-shirt and diaper.  Fortunately, Tommy had loved Rugrats.  Long before he’d found the magic of the stage, reruns on Nickelodeon and a simpler time when the meanest kid on the block was Angelica had captured his fancy.  The infantilized senior wiped his thumb on his shirt.  “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”  A hand descended from the heavens and ruffled his hair.  “You’re very welcome, Tommy.  You can play whenever you’re ready.”

A single tear dropped from Tommy whilst he took in the enormous playroom.  It was like an amusement park.  Playpens.  Walkers. Bouncy harnesses.  Big wheel tricycles and foot cars. Rocking horses. Tiny playhouses. Every bit of equipment, including the tiny cubbies where his pants and sneakers now lay, was sized for him.

This wasn’t him creeping in a place where he didn’t belong.  Every bit of amusement had been designed with someone like him in mind.  The giants were still here, supervising, but this wasn’t their land.  Once again, just like in Malacus, this was an environment that catered directly to him and his needs!

Such a magical place! It wasn’t a place with dwarves and centaurs; but it also wasn’t a place where someone could get randomly picked on for being different; and that was magical in of itself.  “Randy! No, no, no!” A caregiver said separating one shrunken adult baby from another. “We don’t do that to our friends! We have to play nice!  You’re going to have to sit in timeout for a while, mister.”  

Another came and picked up the crying boy that from the looks of his face had gotten pinched a little too hard.  “There there.  It’s okay.  Randy just got a little rough.  You’ll be okay.  Everything will be fine.”

Teachers that did more than the bare minimum.  Truly, this place was magical, and not just because the Dutch door that had led to the bigger kid room was nowhere to be seen.

“Tommy?”

Tommy followed the voice to a crawler on the floor in a pair of overalls. “Charlie?”

“Oh man, they got you too?”  Charlie was shaking his head, but grinning.  “Not totally surprising, no offense.  Wish I’d gotten the chance to give you the scoop sooner.”

Tommy allowed himself a shrug.  “No big deal.”

“Nothing’s a big deal round these parts.”  Charlie planted the palms of his hands and struggled to his feet. Save for his jawline and voice looked every bit the child that was just barely learning how to walk.  “Lemme give you a hug.”

He weebled and wobbled fighting for balance, and Tommy walked up and steadied him. “Here you go, man.” He hugged and supported the other man’s weight.

“Thanks, dude.  Much appreciated.”  Charlie got the thanks out just long enough for him to start wobbling and ease himself back down to a sitting position on the floor.  “Not gonna lie, I was kind of hoping you’d screw up.  Knowing that there was someone else out there who wasn’t going full baby suddenly made me feel lonely.”

Out of politeness, Tommy lowered himself down too, quietly relishing the crinkle and cushioning beneath him.  “I get that.”

“What’s the square root of a hundred and forty-four?”

Tommy tilted his head.  “Twelve. Why?”

Charlie didn’t answer.  “What’s the hardest word you know how to spell?”

“Weltanschauung.  W-E-L-T-A-N-S-C-H-A-U-U-N-G.  It means a particular philosophy of life.”

That earned him a nod of respect. “First President to be assassinated?”

“Why are you asking me random trivia?”

Charlie smirked.  “I wanna make sure all your screws are in tight enough.  No point getting to know eighteen-year-old you you if you’re gonna revert back to a one-year-old

Uncannily, Tommy mimicked the smirk.  “Oh really? Well in that case…” he took a deep breath.  “Lincoln was assassinated by John Wilkes Booth; Garfield was killed by Charles Guiteau;  Leon Czolgosz murdered McKinley; Giuseppe Zangara tried to kill FDR; Lee Harvey Oswald shot Kennedy; Samuel Byck tried and failed to off Nixon; John Hinkcley Jr tried and failed to assassinate Reagan; and both Lynette ‘Squeaky’ Fromme and Sara Jane Moore tried to kill Gerald Ford.”  He managed to get it all out in one breath.

During the course of that breath Charlie’s expression went from approving, to amused, to impressed, to worried.  “Are you a history buff or something, dude?” he asked.

“Not really.”

Charlie blinked and scooted back on the carpet a half-inch.  “Is this the part where I find out that you were a couple of days from being a school shooter…?”  

Tommy actually belly laughed at that.  He genuinely hadn’t thought of how it might come off. “No-oh-ho-ho-ho-ho!” He laughed.  “I just really like Assassins.”

“That’s not helping me, dude.”  Charlie seemed more confused than worried and wasn’t attempting to back away.

“Assassins is a musical,” Tommy explained. “I just listed off the cast of characters.”

“Oh.  Okay.” Charlie nodded.  “You’re gay.”  He hastily added. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just-”

Tommy winced as he interrupted. “What? No! It’s not like that!  I’m just kind of a theater geek on top of everything else.”

Charlie did his best to hide a shit eating grin.  “Pfftt! .Zoomers!”  Then the grin blossomed out.  “I’ve been waiting for a while to try that out!  I finally get to feel old!”

The newest baby in the nursery chuckled.  “Heh. You’re welcome…?”

“Thanks,” Charlie replied. “So weird question: I can kind of keep track looking at what’s on the T.V. before bed or what my mommy is looking at on her phone and by what other people wear in public, but I’m behind the times too.  Is singing and plays and shit the popular thing now?”

“Not in Scrumpton it’s not,” Tommy said. “This isn’t the part where you tell me you were captain of the football team before Malacus, is it?”

“Naw,” Charlie waved it off.  “I wasn’t exactly the popular kid in my generation, neither.”

“What were you into?”

Approximately one hour later, Tommy had his answer.  The colorful mego block had been stacked as loose and high as they could make it.  Beneath them were layer of wooden alphabet blocks already wobbling from the weight.  Beneath those were much larger cardboard bricks steadying the load.  “Yeah! That’ll do it!” Charlie said. “It’ll make a nice crash.”

Charlie helped with building the bases of the little block city. When he couldn’t get any higher, he ‘supervised’ and kept the other crawling and waddling adult children from interfering too much. When the buildings got tall enough that Tommy had to stand on his tippy toes with his hands over his head and the hem of his t-shirt raising up to completely display his diaper, it was considered ‘tall enough’.

 A lady caregiver eventually took notice and started helping the boys control traffic.  “No no no, Amber” she said to one not-so-little girl.  “Let Tommy and Charlie play with the blocks.  They’ll share when they’re done.”

“Thank you,” Tommy offered.

“You’re welcome, cutie.”  

Tommy’s new friend threw a glance back.. “So weird that they can understand you,” Charlie said. “I’ve gotten to the point where I just ignore them unless they’re trying to pick me up or something.”

“Oh this is so cute!” The caregiver said. She whipped out her phone and started taking pictures.

A brief flash of modesty flared up in Tommy, but he suppressed it.  Old habits die hard, it seemed.  Looking down at his diaper he realized that he was a little wet and wondered when that had happened.

“Ready?” Charlie asked.

Tommy re-focused. “Ready”  From opposite sides of the little constructs they’d made the two started plowing through the precariously stacked blocks.  

“RAWR!’ Tommy yelled.

“HURRAR!” Charlie bellowed.

The two man-children scattered and toppled blocks in their wake, slashing and thrashing the mishmashed skyscrapers made of cardboard, plastic, and wood. As instructed, Tommy moved in halting steps and swung his arms wide.  Charlie crawled and reared back like a horse from time to time,pummelling the blocks down.

“Oh nooooo!” the daycare worker said with good natured drama “Look out!  It’s Godzilla! And Baby Godzilla!”

“It’s Anguirus and Gigan!” Charlie half-roared. “Get it right!”

“Oh no! Godzilla and Baby Godzilla are tearing up Tokyo!”

Tommy saw the annoyance on Charlie’s face, but the moment passed before he could comment on it.  “Good job, Tommy!” the giant caregiver said.  “Very creative!”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Tommy felt a bit of a blush.  “Now make sure you and Charlie pick up the mess you just made.  You make a mess, you clean it up here.  You can get help but you still clean it up.”

“Yes ma’am.”
She walked away and the two boys started separating their newly made clutter into more organized pile.  “That was a hoot,” Charlie said.  “Thanks.  I’ve needed that.  Most of everybody else here is considered too young for pretend play, and they definitely don’t know Kaiju.” He laughed ruefully.  “I don’t even know how you even explain Kaiju to somebody with the mental state of a one-year-old.”

“Fair,” Tomy said, picking up blocks.  “Same with geeking out about Hamilton.  Who were those names you said?”

“Gigan was a space monster with blade arms and a buzz saw stomach sent by bug men to conquer Earth and turn it into their paradise after their own planet got messed up.  Anguirus is kinda like a big ankylosaurus that is one of Godzilla’s buddies, right behind Mothra.  Made sense for me because I’m still kind of a crawler.”  Charlie said all of this with the matter of fact tone of someone explaining basic history...kind of like listing off presidential assassins.

“And I thought I was the geek,” Tommy quipped.

For the first time since meeting Charlie, Tommy saw the adult baby look embarrassed. “I didn’t have much money growing up and the internet was just barely a thing.  I got my entertainment by watching old Godzilla and Kaiju movies on VHS and DVD.”

“Wow,” Tommy said.  “In Scrumpton?  You definitely weren’t captain of the football team.”

“Nope.”

Tommy felt thoughtful for a minute.  “I didn’t have many friends growing up, either.”

“Same,”  Charlie admitted.

“Do you think that’s why Malacus found us?” Tommy asked. “Do you think it finds people that don’t have anybody else?”

“I don’t know,” Charlie said, shrugging on all fours. “This is the longest semi-adult conversation I’ve had in forever.  Maybe?  Probably a good thing you didn’t have many friends.”

Tommy suddenly felt very sad, both hearing about his life in past tense and having such a fundamental truth about his identity so bluntly stated.  “Why’s that?”

“I had a couple friends,” Charlie said.  “We were all losers, but we were buds.  You know?  Geeks. Weirdos. Played DnD such. Watched Lord of the Rings.”

“Yeah?”

That same sadness creeped into Charlie’s face.  “You ever heard of It’s a Wonderful Life, Tommy?”

Tommy nodded.  Old movies weren’t a specialty, but that Christmas special had permeated pop culture enough to where it was still referenced in cartoons and T.V. shows when Tommy was a kid.

“When Malacus changes you, it changes everybody else too,” Charlie said.  “For my mommy and me, it was good changes.  She got a full time baby, but also enough money where she could afford one.  My friends weren’t so lucky?”

Tommy sank down to Charlie’s eye level. “What happened?”

“They went on like I was never in their lives,” Charlie sniffed.  “It took me a while to piece together just listening to folks, but I think one of them killed himself.”

“Oh…”

“You don’t realize how much you helped people until you can’t.”

Another errant thought jumped into Tommy’s mind.  “Why’d you go through with it?”

Charlie seemed to snap out of his looming depression.  “Go through with what?”

“Your brains weren’t turning into mush and you were keeping your memories,” Tommy said. “You had to have figured out what was going on at some point.  I did.  Why’d you finish the transformation?”

The cloud returned to Charlie’s gaze.  “I don’t wanna talk about it.  What’s your excuse?”

“I’m saving my sister,” Tommy said, a hint of pride creeping in.  “I’m coming in here so she doesn’t have to.”

“Well why can you still walk so good and grown-ups can still understand you?”

Tommy thought about his promise to Annie; giving away him and Charlie’s shared secret about the cave and the electric blue algae.  “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Fair enough…”

They went on putting the different kinds of blocks back into sorted piles; wood with wood, cardboard wish cardboard, and plastic with plastic.  “I pick the next game.” Tommy said.

“Deal.”