The New Narnia- Chapter 49: Mercy Killing (Patreon)

Chapter 49: Mercy Killing

Come to me, Cosette the light is fading

Don't you see the evening star appearing?

Come to me, and rest against my shoulder

How fast the minutes fly away and every minute colder.

Hurry near, another day is dying

Don't you hear, the winter wind is crying?

There's a darkness which comes without a warning

But I will sing you lullabies and wake you in the morning.

All the pieces for the observation were in place.  Blanket. Bags. Parents. Playmate. Toys.  Everything had been set up exactly to his specifications.  The little boost in cuteness that Annie or Nanny or whatever the mismatched goddess of Malacus called herself had given Tommy as a bribe was paying dividends.  “I just can’t say no to you,” was more than a figure of speech where his mother was concerned.

It’d taken a day or two of wheedling and waiting for the mothers to arrange it, but Tommy had managed a play date with his ex-schoolmate and now ex-babysitter, Amanda Monroe.  The adults had gone along with it, in part, to ‘humor’ him by arranging the meetup and taking the diaper bags out to the backyard with them ‘just in case’, even though they weren’t in public and it’d be easier to change inside.  Amanda and Katy had dragged out the blanket and the toys as a kind of game before Amanda got over excited and Katy got bored.

Tommy picked up the big rubber ball, enjoying the smooth almost slippery rubber surface for an instant.  He looked across the lush green lawn of his brand new backyard.  He stood approximately four feet away from the large privacy fence that had come with the new house, courtesy of Malacus’s ability to warp reality to the point of translocation.  The only thing from his old apartment that still existed, as far as Tommy could tell, was the not-so-broken down clock.

“Ready Amanda?” he called out.

“Ready!”  Amanda called back. Amanda was equidistant from the other end of the privacy fence and was a good forty feet away from Tommy.  Despite the now considerable height difference between the two, Amanda did nothing to adjust her posture or move closer to the toddler sized man-child to account for the distance between them.

This ball wasn’t going to make it all the way across the yard.  Even if Tommy had been his original, semi-grown if slightly malnourished size, he still probably couldn’t have chucked the ball that far.  The thing was so light and airy that it was almost impossible to throw it more than a few feet before it went off course by an errant breeze.  It likely had less mass than a softball but was so spread out that it was more difficult to throw far or straight.  The slightest, most imperceptible divot in the ground would make it impossible to roll very far in a straight line.   

Tommy knew all that.  It wasn’t the point.

“Ready, Tommy!”

Behind him, his mother, Mary Dean, and Amanda’s mom leaned against the privacy fence, watching everything carefully.  Based on body language alone, his mother was relatively relaxed and comfortable, leaning against the fence with her hands in her pockets.  She had the ease of a practiced combat veteran watching a sparring session.  This was nothing to her.

Mrs. Monroe was tensed up, her teeth grinding and her breathing shallow with her shoulders slightly hunched forward.  It was the kind of stance that Tommy had seen in himself not too long ago: The stance of someone who was bullied, worried about what other people thought, and searching for enemies both real and imagined around every corner.  

Until recently, Tommy reckoned, Amanda’s mom probably didn’t have that stance.  She had the jitteriness of someone threatening a kind of embarrassed nervous breakdown, not the tired readiness of someone who had lived her life this way. In short, Mommy Dean looked like she felt old hat at supervising a silly baby playdate.  Mrs. Monroe looked like this was brand new and not so exciting as much as completely nerve racking and emotionally exhausting.

By each of the adult’s feet was a diaper bag.  Clarification: By Tommy’s Mommy’s feet was a diaper bag.  Something well used, well loved, and well taken care of for many years.  The slight fraying of  the stitches on yellow elephants and the fade of the thick blue fabric told a story.  In this version of reality it might not have been Tommy’s original diaper bag- especially because with a girl twin this version of Mary Dean likely got a more gender neutral color to being- but it was well used and prepped.  

His bed had yet to be transformed into a crib, so it had been easy for Tommy to sneak and take a peek inside the night before.  In his baby satchel were diapers, wipes, a changing pad, baby powder, a tube of rash cream, a small baggie full of cheerios, a change of clothes, an empty gallon bag for dirty clothes, a board book, a tiny stuffed animal, a blanket, pacifiers, an empty baby bottle to fill with water or juice, dry washcloths, sunscreen and a hat.  The new and improved Mary Dean was an absolute pro and packed with such experience that were Batman a nanny this is what his utility belt would look like.    

Next to her, Amanda’s mother had a large handbag style purse, leather and studded like the skin of a crocodile; dyed red.  Until a few short days ago it probably didn’t have things like a packet of wipes and adult diapers bought from a local pharmacy crammed into it.  The thing was big enough and otherwise empty enough that Tommy didn’t need to dig through it to figure out that that’s all it had in it.   It was thrown together.  Improvised.  The sign of the unconscious hope that this wouldn’t last.

“Tommy!”  Amanda took a few steps closer. Not nearly close enough to catch the ball. “I said I’m ready!  Throw the ball!”

In front of the two adults was a heavy blue picnic blanket, big enough to accommodate everyone in the yard if they were sitting down and keeping themselves to the periphery.  It was thick enough that an errant breeze wouldn’t toss it away, but just in case it was littered with toys: rainbow colored plastic keys, pop up toys, buzzing electronic baubles, rattles, some of Katy’s plastic tea set pieces, and some heavier toy cars.  In a weird way, Tommy thought it looked like how the Dhali Lama was chosen with artifacts from past lives being laid out for the future leader to naturally gravitate to.  Amanda gravitated to the big pinkish purple rubber ball currently in Tommy’s hands.

“Toooooommy!”

 Tommy found that if he listened very carefully, he could make out the mothers’ comments.  Good.  He needed to hear.   “Are you sure this is okay?  I know Tommy has special needs but Amanda…”

“Tommy’s practically a baby,” Mommy reassured.  “He’s not going to remember this.  Maybe Amanda playing with him will sort this out.  She’ll get tired of being the baby instead of the sitter.”

“Tommy!  Tommy! Tommy Tommy Tommy!”  Amanda was bouncing.  So were her breasts. The blue gingham dress she wore looked like it was bought second hand, and was probably initially meant for a girl who was shorter, younger, and more petite than her.  It still fit and was flattering enough, but outside of “sexy Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz” Halloween costumes, Tommy was pretty sure the hemline wasn’t supposed to stop that many inches above the knee..  It definitely wasn’t up to the school dress code.

Not Scrumpton High dress code, anyway.

 It also was shoulderless and combined with the way certain things moved, Tommy was decently sure his kinda sorta crush wasn’t wearing a bra this afternoon.  Her hair was tied back with a white headband that kept the bulk of it out of eyes.  It wasn’t pig tails, but it didn’t make her look any less of a giant little girl

“I don’t know what happened, Mary,” Tommy heard Mrs. Monroe fret,  “She was fine, then one day she just...do you think she caught something?”

“Hm?  Like with Tommy and Katy?” Mommy said.  “No.  It’s genetic and affects everyone differently but it expresses itself waaaay earlier in life.”  Amanda’s mom had just backhandedly accused Tommy of infecting Amanda with babyishness, and Mommy didn’t even flinch. Either magic and altered memories had made Mommy more even tempered and patient or some part of it made  ‘Did your little dumb baby kid make my kid a big dumb baby?’ inoffensive to her.  Maybe it was both?

The ironic thing is, Amanda’s mom was closer to the truth than she knew.  Amanda HAD caught a case of regression thanks to a squirt of magic milk from Tommy’s bottle.  Tommy was immune, or at least resistant to Malacus’s mind magic. Like Katy, Amanda clearly wasn’t.

Like with Tommy, the world inside the grandfather clock altered the world on the outside so that Katy acting like a late blooming five year old was remembered as ‘normal’ for her. Beyond being too oblivious to be embarrassed about it, Amanda was given no such historical rewrites or emotional shielding.

The most popular girl in school was pooping her pants, and likely everyone knew it.

“If it’s genetic,” Mrs. Monroe started to wonder, “where did they get it from? Who is their-?”

“TOMMY!”

“OOOOOOOKAY!”  He chucked the magenta ball as hard as he could, tossing it so hard that he stumbled forward on his bare feet and had to catch himself planting both hands on the lush grass as his right foot shot back and up above his head.  “Whoah!”

“Careful baby!”

“Yes Mommy!”  

Tommy was wearing an orange Blaze and the Monster Machines T-shirt that covered his belly button as long as he didn’t raise his hands over his head and a slightly damp but not yet droopy Pampers.  Absolutely no one was uncomfortable seeing him in it or thought it inappropriate.

As expected the ball made it a good ten to fifteen feet before air currents, or wind resistance, or the way he threw the ball, or the earth’s rotation, or really really boring magic caused the over inflated thing to veer off course at a nearly ninety degree angle, rapidly lose what little altitude it had plummet and bounce once before rolling to a stop that didn’t make it halfway between the two eighteen year olds.  

“I’ll get it! I’ll get it!” Amanda chased after the ball in stomping tromping waddling steps.  She moved with the complete lack of grace and bouncing slapping gait commonly seen in not potty trained two year olds who hadn’t figured out how to roll their feet.  Even with the bulky baby diaper taped around him, Tommy was positive that he was more graceful than that.

Tommy watched and listened as Amanda ran over to the ball. Her knees locked and bending at the waist, Tommy watched as she picked up the ball, flashing the shiny, plastic backed, and absolutely soaked padding lurking just under her dress. It was something of a miracle, likely due to her hips, that the diaper stayed up at all.

“Oh baby…” Mrs. Monroe said to herself.  “Why are you like this?  Was it something I said? Something I did or didn’t do?”

Mommy tried to be consoling.  “It’s probably just a phase.  Normal, teenage rebellion or something.”

“When we were teenagers we smoked and threw parties while our parents were camping, Mary.  Not screaming if someone tries to get a bra on us or make us sit on a toilet.”

“Yeah,” Mommy said, “But…”

“OKAY TOMMY! MYYYYY TUUUUURN!”  Amanda held the ball high over her head and tossed it like a pee-wee soccer player at the out of bounds line.  Tommy was far from being a doctor but there was something stiff and jerky and uncoordinated about the eighteen year old girl’s movements, coordination, and posture.  Those seeing Amanda for the first time might assume that she had a neurological disorder or a low grade form of muscular dystrophy.  In reality though, Tommy recognized, she was moving very much like the other ‘babies’ in the daycare.

Everything about Amanda had been reduced to the level of a two year old or younger.  Everything except her size and how people viewed her.  

The ball wafted like a bit of dandelion fluff for a second and then crashed, bounced, and skidded on the ground.  Despite being well over double Tommy’s size, Amanda’s toss was even less successful and traveled.  “I’ll get it! I’ll get it!”  She scurried to the ball, tried again, and repeated the motions with similar results.

“Why is she doing that?” Mrs. Monroe asked.

Tommy huffed, and then shouted.  “Just kick it!”

“OKAY!”  The kick was just as uncoordinated as the throw, with the sole of her foot just scraping the ball with enough force to send it roll-bouncing the rest of the way to Tommy, and Amanda ended up falling immediately on her padded ass after, but it got the job done.

Tommy took a couple extra steps out to stop the ball...and stopped.  His stomach was gurgling and he felt a fullness inside of him that was something other than food.  Tommy was full, felt the pressure building, and knew he needed to get it out.

All present thoughts left the boy’s head.  He didn’t black out, just everything else mattered less.  The volume in all of his external senses turned way down so that his internal senses could be turned way up.  The light movement of the air across his face; the sunshine just starting to peek out from behind a passing cloud; the blades of grass under his bare feet; the sound of the two mothers talking to each other.  That all mattered far far less than the building internal need to get something out of his system...right...now.

The man-child readjusted his stance, pushed a little bit.  Not quite. He squatted down some and tried again.  That had something going on! He breathed in and did it again.  His eyes unfocused and his face slackened a bit; not because he couldn’t think, but because he was so wrapped up and focused on the one thing that other basic facades, like facial expressions or keeping his hands unclenched took a backseat.  

Speaking of backseat:  In the back of his mind he knew that he was pooping in his pants.  In the back of his mind he knew that Amanda, Mommy, and Mrs. Monroe were watching him poop his pants.  Katy, who had been laying on her back on the wooden deck playing her switch probably wasn’t watching.  “He’s pooooooping !”

Nevermind.  Katy also knew he was pooping his pants.

“Speaking of pooping, when was the last time you went potty?”  Mommy called over him.

“Um….”

“Go now, big girl.”

“Yes, Mommy!”  Katy padded off so as not to accidentally soak or stain her thick cotton training panties.  School wouldn’t let her wear them most of the time, preferring the ease of pull-ups so wearing that at home was a special treat.

The fact that his mother and sister were talking over him as he unabashedly soiled himself only drove the point further home.  Right now?  In this moment?  Regardless of time passed since birth or his mental faculties, this was natural.  This was right.  

And it felt sooooo goood.  Feeling the semi-solid mess come out of him, like pushing a bit of sponge or a warm dirt clod out of him.  The relief.  The satisfaction.  The sensation of the lump dropping into the back of his Pampers, it smooshing up against the back just a tad as he kept pushing, felt amazing.  The front of his diaper warming with his bladder loosening along with the bowels was so ecstatic that Tommy forgot to breathe for a moment.

This felt so right.  Why would anybody ever get potty trained?  With a final push, Tommy was left feeling slightly light headed, panting happily, and with much more weight down below than he started.

“Okay, kiddo.”  Mommy cooed over at him.  Let’s get that diaper changed!  Tommy turned around and grinned.  He hadn’t planned the timing of this- couldn’t plan the timing of this-but this was in fact, part of his plan.  Part of his analysis.  Part of his experiment.

Part of something he had to do before he committed to making a very bad decision

“Yes, Mommy!”  He padded over, feeling the bulk in the back of him wiggle slightly with each step. Through stickiness and desensitization, it was something where if he wasn’t about to get cleaned up he could and would very likely tune out.

With no further prompting, Tommy Dean, good boy that he was cleared the toys off the old picnic planet and laid  down in the middle, spread eagle.  Mommy had already started unpacking the necessary basics from the diaper bag.

“Awww,” Mrs. Monroe remarked.  “He’s so cute.  You’ve got him well trained.”

Mommy lifted him by the ankles to slide the plastic changing pad underneath.  “At his age,” Mommy chuckled,” he should be.  Mrs. Monroe chuckled in agreement.  Yup.  Even she was affected by the magic, conveniently overlooking that at his age by most standards this shouldn’t be so casual or ‘normal’.  

Mommy ripped open the tapes of the now vile Pampers and went to work gently wiping Tommy’s penis and balls, the wipes a bit of pleasant coolness on his skin.  Tommy relaxed and sucked his thumb gently as he was caressed down there, trying to keep his focus on what would happen next.

“MOMMY!”  Amanda called.  “What’s going on?”

Tommy saw Mrs. Monroe shudder at being called ‘Mommy’ and then gave a tired sigh.  “The baby is getting his diaper changed, Amanda.”  Tommy’s legs went up so that he could no longer see directly in front of him, but he could still crane his neck backwards and see Amanda through an upside down topsy turvy point of view.

“Diaper?” Amanda said, taking a few steps forward the blanket.  “Diaper?”  She stopped and lifted up her dress, staring at the thick crinkling padding around her as though for the first time.  “Mommy! I’m wearing a diaper! I’m a baby!”

“Amanda put your dress down!”

“This isn’t so bad.”  Mommy said to herself wiping up Tommy’s mess.  “You’ve had a lot worse.”

“What are you…?”  Then Mrs. Monroe stopped. “Oh, you’re talking to your boy.”

Mommy’s hands balled up the used diaper and set it aside, easily placing away the old with one hand and unfolding and slipping the new one under with the other hand.  “Of course I am.” She raised her voice by almost an octave “Babies love it when you talk to them during changies.”  Her head waggled and wobbled all silly-like and Tommy couldn’t help but laugh.  “Ooops! I shouldn’t have done that.  Will make it harder to put the powder on.”

Amanda trotted over to the blanket, lifted up the hem of her dress so that her diaper could be seen and laid down right next to Tommy.  “Me next! Me next!”

“Ooooh no!” her mother said.  “We are NOT doing that.  Not here. Not outside.”

Amanda looked distraught?  “Then why do you have my diapee bag?”

“It’s your purse not your…” Mrs. Monroe stopped.  Tommy’s legs came down and the diaper came up and around him just in time to watch the older woman pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes.  “If you want to change your adult diaper, you can do it in their bathroom.  I’m not doing it for you.  You’re a big girl.”

“NO! I’M! NOT!”  Amanda slapped the ground with each syllable.  She kicked the air savagely.  Noises came out of her that weren’t specifically crying, but sounded like someone on the verge of a total meltdown.

Very calmly and quickly, still on her knees.  Mommy grabbed the wipes and the powder she’d just used on Tommy and shuffled over to Amanda.  “I’ve got this!”  She ripped all four tapes off of Amanda’s adult diaper.  Amanda immediately became still.  

“Mary,” Mrs. Monroe said.  “You don’t have to…”

“She needs changing,” Mommy said simply. She’d already started wiping between the bigger girl’s legs. “She’s a little bigger than Katy was when I got her into pull-ups but the principle is the same.”  She held her hand back.  “I don’t mind.”

Amanda’s mother seemed distinctly uncomfortable but unwilling to object.  “Okay...if you’re sure...”

Tommy stood up and looked at Amanda’s face.  Girl was in heaven; more than just the sensations of having wet wipes dragged across her tender parts, she was lost in her own little world. Feeling safe.  Feeling validated. Feeling just like Tommy had felt a second ago.

Damnit.

“Diaper.” Mommy reached out her hand.

Mrs Monroe blinked. “Diaper? What do you-?” The purse was still beside her.  

Tommy crinkled over to it and took out the one spare diaper that got brought.  He put it in Mommy’s hand.  “Diaper.”

Mommy unfolded it and set the big thing aside.  “Amanda, I know you’re a baby, but I’m going to need you be a big girl and lift your hips for me.”

“Yes, Missus Tommy’s Mommy.”  Amanda lifted her hips and Mommy pushed back on her knees.  Amanda wasn’t messy, so the clean up of her backside was quick.  Wanting to help, Tommy picked up a rattle and dangled it above Amanda’s head.  The smile that leaked out across Amanda’s face was so genuine it was impossible for Tommy not to feel sorry for her.

Worse than Katy.  She was further gone than even Katy.  Farther gone, and with a mother that was repulsed by her.

“It’s not a big deal,” Mommy called back to Amanda’s parent.  “She doesn’t have anything I haven’t seen before except maybe a little extra hair down there.”

“I didn’t need to know that…”

“Seriously, though,” Mommy prodded.  She paused long enough to slip the fresh diaper underneath the fully grown teenager.  “Just a little powder.  Okay Amanda, let down.  Seriously though.  It’s not like you haven’t changed her diapers before.”

“That was a long time ago,” Mrs. Monroe said, sourly.  “A long long time ago.  I haven’t had as much practice.”

“It’s not that hard to change a diaper.” Mommy insisted.  “It’s not even bike riding difficult.  More like making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich but backwards.’  As if to prove a point, Mommy finished taping up the new diaper without looking.  The majority of her attention was focused on Amanda’s mother.

The older of the two Monroes, someone who Amanda most definitely inherited her good looks from.  “Amanda’s not...she’s not.”  She huffed.  “She’s not little and cute like your boy.  She’s not even special like your daughter.  She’s just...just...suddenly she’s just...this!”

Amanda barely noticed the comment thanks to the rattle.  If she had, Tommy was certain, she would have broken down crying.

That tore it.  Tommy knew what he had to do.  “Mommy?”  Tommy asked, putting on his best ‘cute’ appearance.  “Can I ask you a question?”

Mommy was busying herself rolling up Amanda’s old diaper.  She was good at multitasking but not so good that she could have done that one handed mid-change.  “What is it sweetie?  Do you want some juice?  I know it’s hot out, still.”

“No,” Tommy said.  “I mean yes, but that’s not what I was gonna ask.”

“What is it?”

“Can Amanda have a sleepover?”  Tommy inhaled. “Pwease?”

Mary Dean bit her lip and looked to Amanda.  “I don’t know…”

Mrs. Monroe compounded it with her own.  “That might not be a great...she’s become a real handful.”

Time to lay on the charm, Tommy thought.  “Mommy’s really good at changing diapees and taking care of us kids wif...kids wif...spell-shull needs?”  Inwardly, Tommy was slightly mortified that he was making himself talk like this- Charlie would be laughing so hard right now- but if it got him what he wanted, so be it.  This needed to be done.  “An’ if Missus Amanda’s Mommy is tired she could use a bweak.”

The look of apprehension on Mrs. Monroe’s face melted into something greedier and baser.  Tommy was fairly certain that he couldn’t read people’s thoughts, but for an instant he felt as if he had received psychic gifts. Internally, Mrs. Monroe was going from ‘What would the neighbors think?’ to ‘I could get away from this mess!’

In a weird and sad way, Tommy figured where Amanda had gotten some of her past pettiness from.

“Okay!” Mrs. Monroe squeaked.  Suddenly remembering herself, she looked at Mommy.  “That is, if it’s okay with you Mary…”

Mommy got up and shrugged.  “It’s okay with me.”  She went back to Tommy’s diaper bag and broke out the hand sanitizer.  “Amanda stayed over with the twins plenty of times before as an adult.  What’s the harm in doing it as one of the kids?”

“YAAAAAAY!” Both Tommy and Amanda cheered, though Tommy’s for much grimmer reasons.

“But,” Mommy interrupted. “I’ll need clothes from home and more diapers.”

Mrs. Monroe was already fishing for her keys.  “I’ll run home and get the box we have left.”

“And she’ll have to sleep in the living room.  I’ve got an air mattress that will do the job.”

“That’s fine!” Tommy agreed.  The living room was still where the old clock was.

“Can I help put them to bed?” Amanda asked.  “Tuck them in?”

Mommy grinned full teeth.  “Why yes, Amanda dear, that would be very helpful.”

Mrs. Monroe looked hopeful for an instant. Considering what he knew he was going to have to do. Tommy only felt guilt.

Katy came out from the potty.  “What’d I miss?”


***************************************************

BONG!

BONG!

BONG!

Tommy sat up in his toddler bed. Despite the promises of Annie, and a debt he’d have to pay sooner or later, he was glad that it was still a toddler bed.  He’d have to learn to enjoy the safety of a crib later.  Tonight, he needed a bed he could get out of by himself.

BONG!

BONG!

BONG!

Right on time. Did the clock know what he intended to do tonight, or was it just hungry for more people to devour?  “I’m coming. I’m coming!” he half shouted half mumbled. It was like speaking up and then remembering exactly who you were speaking to.

His nighttime diaper drooped when he stood up.  It’d last till sunrise, he was sure, but exactly how saturated it was gave the boy a sense of how much time had passed since he’d been put to bed.  Truthfully, Tommy had been planning to stay up until he heard the clock.  He’d drifted off accidentally, his Spider-Man pillow too comfortable.

“Nnnn?”  He heard Katy stirring in her room.  “Huh? Wussat?”

Oh no...nope. Not that.

Quickly, Tommy leaned in through the door. In his gruffest, deepest, most authoritarian voice he said.  “Nothing Katy.  It’s just the clock.  Go back to sleep.”

“Nnn? Otay…”  His eyes adjusted to the darkness (and Katy using a night light anyways), Tommy watched her roll over in bed and start snoring.  Good.  The clock wasn’t going to get her.  Not tonight.  Not ever.  

BONG!

BONG!

BONG!

Just in case, Tommy closed the door to his sister’s bedroom.  For extra measure he dragged a decorative table with photos and flowers on it and moved it in front of her door. The exertion was such that his bottom wasn’t the only thing that was getting wet.

BONG!

BONG!

BONG!

“Okay...okay…!”  It was a miracle that no one was woken up by the scraping and grinding noises of him moving the table.  If Tommy was right about this, the table would be back to where it was by the time this was over.  This was good because at his current size he really didn’t think he could move it back.

Tommy almost hobbled down stairs when he doubled back and took a flower vase off the table he’d just moved and tossed the flowers.  He had a feeling he might need it.

BONG!

BONG!

BONG!

With Malacus calling, Tommy sprinted down the steps as fast as his tiny legs could carry them.  As expected, the massive grandfather clock lay open to him, a great mysterious black void where the gears and pendulum should be.  Unexpected, but not surprising, was a snoring Amanda, sucking on her thumb on an air mattress two feet away.  She was completely dead to the world.

That made sense in a way.  Only those Malacus called could hear the clock's low and onerous summons. Even at her worst, Mary Dean through drink or drug hadn’t been so heavy a sleeper.  Amanda just proved it.

“Hey, Amanda,” Tommy whispered.  “Wake up.”  When she didn’t stir, he didn’t try the gentle way again. The vase half full of water went straight onto the girl’s head.

“WAAAH!” She shrieked!  “I didn’t do it!”

To quiet her, Tommy grasped her and held his face cheek to cheek with hers.  “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s me.  Tommy. I got you.”

“Why am I wet…” Amanda asked.  “On my head?”

“I had a nightmare.” Tomy said.  That simple non-explanation seemed to work for her.  When she didn’t ask any further questions, Tommy took the lead.  “Come on.  I want to show you something.”

First running a hand through her hair, Amanda stood up, stepped off the deflating air mattress and then just said, “Oh. Okay.”  Like a lamb to slaughter.  Tommy took her by the hand and lead her to the portal.  “Where we goin’, Tom-Tom?”

“Inside the clock.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

“Watch your head and step over.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

The air changed immediately as soon as the pair crossed the threshold. The gentle moving air of  the house was replaced by the still quiet of the cave.  It was just as cold, but the stillness made it less refreshing and felt more of a tomb.

“I’m scared, Tommy,” Amanda said in the darkness.  Even the crinkle of their diapers seemed ominous stumbling about as they were.  

“It’s okay.” Tommy said. “It’s going to be okay.   We’ll keep each other safe.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

He squeezed her hand.  She squeezed back.  It was such a shame that it had gotten to this point.  With his other hand he squeezed the vase he’d dumped on her. That made him feel safer too, for some reason.

Time always took on a different meaning when going through the clock.  So it was hard to say how long the journey took this time around, from the narrow tunnels and caverns, slowly widening out until they were ankle deep in water and then that last final step.

“WOW!”

The final antechamber.  Electric blue algae glimmered with their passing footsteps.  It would have been beautiful if Tommy didn’t know what it meant.  Meant for him, meant for Amanda...possibly meant for his soul.

A child to a bug zapper, Amanda stepped forward to patch just by the final entryway.  “Ooooh”

Tommy reached up and smacked her hand away.  “Don’t touch that!”

Her face illuminated in shades of deep azure, Amanda frowned.  “Why not?”

“Do you know what it says?”  He pointed to the names ‘Charles Watson’ and ‘Thomas Dean’.

“Ay-Bee-See-Dee-Eee-Eff-Jee?” Amanda rattled off.

Tommy controlled himself.  “How do you spell Amanda?”

“Ay..?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Bee-See-Dee-Eee-Eff-Jee?”

And that’s why he wasn’t going to let her touch the algae.  “Okay...Amanda...I need you to listen to me.”  He used his whole body to turn Amanda away from the wall of magic glowing goo.  Right behind you you’re going to crawl through a tunnel, okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And on the other side of that tunnel…” He gulped and pushed on.  “On the other side of that tunnel is a biiiig party.  Just for you!”  He felt like he was George telling Lenny about the rabbits.

“There is?!” Water sloshed around her ankles while she bounced.

“Yeah…” She didn’t let go of Tommy’s wrist and almost yanked him along with her.  “Wait wait wait!” he cried out.  “I can’t go with you.”

Amanda stopped, oblivious to the oncoming train.  “Why not?”

“It’s a…girls only party.” Was this what it was like for the Grinch?  The Wizard of Oz in Wicked?  “Yuuuck!”

She let go of his hand.  “No! You’re yuck!” She stuck out her tongue, but this more of the game than any real malice.  “I’m gonna go to the girly girl party all by myself without you and have allll the fun!”  With long legs she was half way past the point of no return by the end of that sentence.

“Wait!”

She stopped.

“I just wanted to say. That before you go.  I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Amanda asked.

Tommy hung his head in shame.  “I’m sorry that it happened like this.  You were kind of mean to me, but you didn’t deserve this.  I just don’t know how to fix you….”  He felt like crying.  “So I guess full broken is better than half broken.”

She didn’t say anything for a while. “Tommy?”
“Yeah?”

“What are you talking about?”

Tommy almost dry heaved.  “Nothing.  Nevermind.  Go play baby girl.”

“Oh.  Okay!”

He reached out and touched her finger tips, maintaining contact as long as he could until she was gone.  Wherever she was going now, she’d do it alone.  Tommy looked down the corridor leading to Malacus.  “I hope you’re happy!” he called out.  No echo came back to him.  Then, more gently, he repeated himself.  “I hope you’re happy…” The second time was directed at Malacus.

Defeated and feeling like he was the worst person who made the best possible decision, Tommy turned around and started heading back the way he came.  Something stopped him when a glimmer of blue twinkled from his eye.  He looked down at the vase.  Slowly, carefully, precisely- with more care and dexterity than someone as altered as he was should have been able to muster- Tommy scraped a bit of the blue algae into the vase.  “Just in case.”

******************************************************************************************

“Tommy!” Mommy called.  “Amanda!  Time to get up!”

Tommy sat up in his toddler bed, squishing.  He was close to leaking. He had the weird groggy feeling that so often occurred to him when he came back through the clock, but none of the trippy memories of misadventures.  Something had changed, and it wasn’t him.  That didn’t make him want to go down stairs and see his handiwork any more.

The door opened with a smiling Mommy.  “How’s my baby boy and his little friend?” she asked.  

“LIttle…?” Tommy realized he wasn’t alone.  There in the toddler bed next to him, wearing pink and white footie pajamas, and small enough to share a bed, was Amanda.  “Oh!”

Amanda let out a yawn.  “Mama?”  And then opened her eyes.  “Gooboo-gabera?”She seemed unbothered by her inability to talk.

Mommy came over and picked the transformed girl up.  “Good morning you two little bed bugs.  I hope you both slept well.”  She placed Amanda on Tommy’s dresser, now with a changing pad on it.  “I’m glad you were such a good big friend and shared your bed,” Mommy told him.  

In a weird way he had shared his bed with Amanda.  He’d made their bed and yanked her down to lie in it.

“I’m glad you were big enough to keep her from rolling out.”  On that note, Tommy thought bitterly, he’d failed.  He didn’t stop Amanda from falling, he just pushed her so she’d have a clean break.  That list bit kept him feeling like a complete shitheel.  

Mommy peered at the sheets.  “I’m also glad your diapers didn’t leak.”  She started undressing Amanda, right in front of Tommy, and though the girl had shrunk in both size and mind, certain characteristics and curves remained to scale.

“Mommy,” Tommy said.  “Can you please change me first so I can go downstairs and...wait?”  Being in the same space as his latest...victim…didn’t feel right.  Watching the end result of his handiwork...he didn’t feel good about it.

Mommy didn’t stop.  “You can wait, Tommy.  Haven’t you ever heard of ladies first?”  She started undoing the diaper.  Since it was an actual baby diaper instead of something from the pharmacy, it was much easier for her to multitask and do one handed.  “Oh, almost forgot.”  She bent over and picked up a.light pink diaper bag left by the dresser.  Amanda’s diaper bag.

“Pee-pee! Manda pee-peeeeee!”.  

“Oooh!”  Mommy lifted up the diaper and caught Amanda’s fully errant stream in the old Pampers preventing it from hitting the floor.  “How did I almost mess that up?” Mommy laughed.  “You’d think from changing a boy all these years…”

Mommy waited till Amanda was done and finished the change, putting her in a onesie with a tutu attachment.  “There we go! All dry and clean for when Mommy comes to get you after breakfast!  Your turn, Tommy!”

Tommy sighed and let himself be changed.  He asked to wear pants and a polo shirt.  He didn’t quite feel like he deserved to be as comfortable as he liked to be just then.  “My little man wants to get super dressed up!”

“Yeah…”

Mommy set him down on the floor, and Amanda crawled up to him.  With concerted effort, she pushed herself up to her feet and leaned all over him into a big sloppy hug.  “Fankyoo…!”

On his way to breakfast, Tommy went to the old flower vase that he’d dumped out.  When  Mommy wasn’t looking he took the vase, shook it, and smiled at the sparkling blue light that came out the top.