Unfair-Chapter 133: Missed Connections (Patreon)

Chapter 133: Missed Connections

Clad only in a diaper and still reeking of baby powder, I sat with my back up against my lowered crib rail with my tablet in my lap. My anxiety had sky-rocketed since Monday and even painting Beouf’s face lily pad green hadn’t stopped the rising tide. I kept refreshing MistuhGwiffin every ten seconds, exercising as much restraint as I dare while daring less every time. Every refresh had my eyes darting over to one corner to see if I’d been messaged and then to center-screen to see if my request was still on the front page of the regional “Help” section.  

Not even forty-eight hours and my post had already been knocked down to near the middle with newer updates from Elizabeton.  No calls coming from inside the house as it were; just Littles posting about missing relatives who had left the house but never reported in. The Black Friday effect had struck again.

Selfishly, my blood boiled reading those messages because they had already gotten reactions and replies in the form of condolences and well wishes.  My own cry for help had gone unnoticed and ignored. My fingers twitched over the screen with anxiety and indecision.

Did I bump the message up to keep it at the top?  Should I post elsewhere or as replies to other people’s comments and cries for help?  Or would that turn people off?  Would it make them suspicious, instead? Troll accounts, scams, and traps were not unknown to the online Little community.  MistuhGwiffin was fairly obscure, but it wasn’t an air-tight secret.  What if I tried too hard and people thought I was an Amazon trying to lure a Little to a false rescue?

Briefly, I considered taking a picture of myself and posting it, but that wouldn’t prove anything. Any properly paranoid Little would just think that I was a mindfucked doll being used to help my Mommy acquire a new ‘sister’ or ‘brother’.  It’s what I would have thought a few months prior.  

Nervously, I switched over to the ‘Candid Cradles’ section and skimmed for any new pictures of me that might have been scraped up over the weekend.  The last thing I needed was some photo of me playing tag in a lion costume or squatting and pinching a loaf in my pants.  No such misfortune, thankfully.

When I switched back to the search and rescue topics, my post had been knocked down another two rungs. It wasn’t until my chest and eyes started aching that I realized I’d forgotten to blink or breathe.  I immediately reopened my post and bumped it back up to the top of the page with a single word: “Please.”

I kept doing the same desperate dance for another ten minutes. “Come on,” I whispered in prayer.  “Come on!”  I said my own words aloud.  “Please…” I refreshed and my comment went back down to the second rung.

Lost in a shuffle. Ignored. Alone. Drowning at sea because everyone else was too busy trying to tread water.  Despair lurked behind my eyes.  I was out of patience, running out of games to play with myself to keep strong. I’d already won so many battles, but any sort of peace meant I was losing the war if it meant I was still stuck in diapers.

A pair of Amazon footsteps found their way to my ears. Ever the good Little boy, I exited out of the secret screen and rested the tablet in my lap.  “Hey hey!” I called out before my Mommy came into view.

Janet walked in already dressed to kill, her makeup on and smelling of sweet perfume. Nothing about her read ‘teacher’ or ‘Mommy’. I allowed myself to gaze up hungrily at her, jealous that I didn’t have the freedom to travel anymore and more jealous that I wouldn’t get to see her like this for more than a few minutes.

“Why do you always play with the volume turned off?” she asked, pointing to the tablet.

I looked at the graying black screen and turned the tablet up to her. “Because I don’t like the sounds very much,” I lied.   “But see? I stopped playing when I heard you coming. I’m not addicted or anything.”

Weariness flickered in Janet’s eyes.  I was overplaying my part and laying it on too thick. She reached down and I dropped the tablet safely on the carpet right before I was hoisted on top of the changing table.  “Let’s get you dressed.”

She picked me up and started to put me into a set of light blue footie pajamas. “Huh?” I said. “It’s not even five o’clock, Janet.”

Janet did not slow down sealing me into my fleecy bodysuit. “Auntie Jessie is going to have her hands full with you, Amy, and Ivy.  I’m saving her a step by putting you in your jammies early.”

Something about having to be prepped like this, like I was a chore or something, rubbed me the wrong way. Still, the wheels in my head started turning. There were possibilities to consider, if only for tonight. “What about a bath?”

“You’ve already had one today,” Janet said evenly, snapping up my inseam. “You want another one?”

Much dust had been kicked up on the playground that afternoon.  Turns out it was easier to have fun when you acknowledged certain resentments and let go of them; at least for a time. “Are the girls going to be wearing jammies, too?”

“I don’t know,” Janet admitted. “Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll probably be back after you go to bed.”

“Am I going to have to share a crib with them?”

“Probably, for an hour or two.” Janet said. “Is that a problem?”

“Not really,” I said.  I was lifted back off the changing table and set back down on the carpet.
I looked down at the floor, pretending to sulk when I was actually determined to keep the tablet in my peripheral vision. “What about the high chair? Are they going to have to eat in their own high chairs or do I have to share mine, too?”

Janet knelt and ran her hand over my hair.  “I don’t think their Mommies are bringing their highchairs all the way over.  You’ll have to ask Auntie Jessica what she has planned for food.”

“Are they skipping baths, too?”

Janet smirked. “If they’re getting in the tub, so are you. Do you want to take a bath with your friends?”

My nose crinkled up in genuine surprise and mild distaste.  “What?! Eww! No! Not like that!”

“What do you mean?” Janet giggled. “Do Little girls have cooties now?”

“That’d be like, like…like taking baths with my sisters or something.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked. “If you’re all family anyways…”

“Mommy, could you not?!”

Mommy’s eyes twinkled. “Why are you so concerned about the girls?

“I’m not concerned,” I said. “Just why should I be treated any different and babied extra just cause it’s my house and all my stuff is here?”  This was a half-truth at best. My real concern was about how many different opportunities there would be to be left unattended. Every separate high chair feeding or bath or getting one of us dressed for bed was an opening for fun, mischief, and neurotically checking MistuhGwiffin.

Janet took me up into a hug, away from my precious tablet. “Do you think that just because all your stuff is here that that makes you more of a baby than your friends?”

“What?!” I squirmed. Just not as hard as I should have. “No!”

“Good!” she chirped. “Because that’s not why you’re my baby!”

My whole body heated up. Just the way she said it was like a drug.  “Ugh. Stop!”  But I didn’t mean it.  Not really.  “Put me down! Put me down!”

Janet released me from her embrace. For a second she had a smile that looked fit to burst. “You are too easy sometimes, baby boy.”  She gave me one more peck on the forehead and stood up to her full height.  “Gosh, I love you.”

“Because I’m ‘easy’?” I leaned back against the crib, trying and failing to look cool.

“No.”

I rolled my eyes to show my obvious disdain. “Because I’m your ‘baby boy’?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then why?”

Janet shrugged. “I just do.”  She gently inclined her head towards the nursery door.  “Wanna come out into the living room and watch some T.V. before the others get here?”

My hands itched wanting to get to the tablet again. During this whole exchange, my call for help might have been bumped all the way down off the first page again!  “No thank you,” I said. “I think I need some quiet time alone. To prepare.”

Janet was somewhere between bemused and confused. “Prepare for what?”

“My crazy Auntie,” I said.  “And my friend who is a chaos gremlin.  And my other friend who’s an order angel.”

Janet puffed through nostrils. “Point taken.”  She left me alone, but her voice called back. “Just come when you hear the doorbell!”

I’d already bent over and picked up the tablet. “Okay!”

“I want you to be social, too!”

My eye rolling was more genuine this time. I was busy re-opening the tablet and plugging in the numbers.. “Alright!”

“This was your idea!”  She reminded me.

I finished logging on.  “This was Jessica’s idea!”  I scanned and found my post hadn’t been moved yet.  “Do you think we could have convinced her?”

“True!”

I stopped for a second and looked down between my legs. I frowned and poked at my diaper.  Janet hadn’t changed me when she redressed me into pajamas.  Not that I needed changing. I was only slightly wet. It was just weird that I hadn’t thought about it until just then. Or how I didn’t notice the crinkle or the way I was forced to walk unless I actively thought about it. Like breathing or blinking.  Too damn much had become default.

A single dot of color made my eyes dart back to the screen. Up in the corner. An envelope icon suddenly highlighted!  A message! My finger inched to the screen and tapped it.

The screen switched over to my new account’s inbox. On it was a single message.  It’s title: “Hey”.  Not exactly inspiring, but maybe it was coded.

I tapped again and opened the message inside. My eyes burned reading the message therein.  “Do you wear diapers?”

The fuck was this shit? I tapped again and investigated the user profile.  No picture. No public posts and it was newer than even mine. Its name was ‘MistuhSocko9583158’.  Literally a sock puppet account.  

Instead of blocking and moving on with my evening, I replied.  “Fuck off troll. I hope they take you to New Beginnings and lodge something in your ass so that all your shits are square shaped.”

I hit send and stared back down at the tablet like I was looking this time wasting mother fucker square in the eye, scowling and sneering all my hatred at them.

Ellipsis bobbed up and down like waves on the ocean.  My head snapped back in surprise and dread.  An incoming reply?  My skin tingled. My brain sparked. It had been forever since I’d had a good old fashioned flame war.  Bring it on, fucker!

The doorbell rang. Damn. Out of time!  “Clark!” Janet called. “Come on out!  Company!”

I huffed and snorted like a bull. Trash talking a stranger would have to wait.  Maybe Amy could give me some good turns of phrase or I could somehow convince Ivy to teach me dirty words in Yamatoan to use.  

The reply came: “Holy shit I’m so sorry! I thought you were somebody or something else!  Do you really need help, sir?!”

Help! Actual help! Real communication that was doing something besides degrading or insulting me!  I’d been stranded for so long that it actually surprised me when someone saw my signal fire!

“Clark!” Janet called again. “Company!”

I had to do something!  I couldn’t waste this opportunity.  Had to continue to talk and negotiate my freedom!  I started swearing under my breath and pacing in place.  If I didn’t show up in the living room, Janet would come for me and she’d already shown she was willing to take away my window to the world as punishment.  “Coming!” I called. “Just…Just finishing up with something!”

I typed in a simple “yes”and then stashed the tablet beneath my crib by the headboard. Even before I was out of the nursery I cast an anxious look back towards the tablet. I was swimming in shark infested waters and I’d just left my life vest behind.

I came out to the living room to find Zoge already making pleasantries with Janet. Perhaps it was her age, her culture, or just that I wasn’t in love with her, but Zoge didn’t seem nearly as dressed up as Janet. She looked more ‘formal’ or ‘distinguished’ than anything; as if she were preparing for a presentation or a formal dinner of some sort instead of a girl’s night out of gossipping and merry making.   

Ivy stood demurely beside her mother, dressed in a baggy two piece pink pajama set made of silk.  Her eyes lit up. “Clark!” she squeaked. “We’re having a jammie party!”  She barreled forward at me for a few steps and then froze in the middle of the playmat. Her arms spread open.  “Hug?”

Both of our Mommies were watching. “Sure.”

I stepped forward and met her in the middle. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tightly, but not as hard as she could. No bones cracked or wind forced itself out of me from either end.  The soles of my feet sang on the insanely comfortable mat, my weight perfectly supported by ground beneath them. Combined with Ivy’s embrace it was close to a full body massage all at once.

The miniature Yamatoan could be very controlled with her strength when she thought to.  I made no mistake about it; this hug wasn’t ending until Ivy was good and ready for it to end.  “Good to see you, Ivy,”  I returned the hug and patted her gently on the back, hoping she’d take it as a hint.

She did not. “Thank you for inviting me to your playdate!” she squealed, still lightly crushing me me.  Was this how Lion felt? Then in a whisper she said “I love you, but not in a naughty way.”

Poor girl wasn’t used to getting invited anywhere.  “I love you too,” I whispered back and felt an awkward blush rise in my cheeks.  That was enough to get her to release me and take a step back, cheeks burning and eyes fluttering.

“He’s gotten so much better at playing with others lately” Zoge commented to Janet.

“I know,” Janet said, her voice an awed stage whisper. “I’m so proud of him!”

“Ivy has improved, as well,” Zoge remarked. “She is finally starting to come out of her shell.”

“Yeah?” Janet asked, her eyes locked on me. Besides me playing up a part and acting like being her toddler was normal, the next best thing to giving Janet her emotional fix was hearing another Amazon complement either my behavior or her parenting; which when you think about it was kind of the same thing to her.

“Clark has been good for her,” Zoge said in her quiet, almost musical way. “Teaches and protects her in ways I cannot.”

Something bitter and hurtful coiled itself around my brain: A thought I’d been dodging since Monday afternoon. Teaching. Protecting. Yes. I did do that, didn’t I? Past tense. Back when I was Mr. Gibson. Back when I was Boss.

“He was always able to find ways to connect and communicate with kids on their level,” Janet said. “I’m so glad that hasn’t changed.”

“Agreed,” Zoge nodded. “He’s become a very mature Little boy and our classroom is better for it.”

Oh the hypocrisy! Yet I didn’t explode at them. I should’ve exploded but I didn’t. Didn’t even feel the urge to. No restraint needed. No willpower expended.  I loved these insane people and that’s why I had to get away from them.  

I looked down at my hand and realized that Ivy was holding it.  I hadn’t even noticed. No squeezing or signaling or anything. She just wanted to hold hands with me.

“Hi Clark!”

Amy rode in on her Mommy’s hip. She was wearing a nightie that stopped just past the top of her diaper.

“Sorry I didn’t ring the doorbell,” Helena apologized while she lowered Amy down onto the floor and unshouldered an absolutely massive diaper bag.

As per usual, I didn’t hear the rest of Helena's explanations or formal introductions due to Amy’s opening chatter.  “Oh this is a nice mat where’d you get it- most relaxing- how was your Unification mine went well enough I’ve been thinking that we should use the time we have tonight to do some improvisational exercises and really lose ourselves in our characters perhaps something animalistic it might be a good way to delve deeper into inner truths I think I shall be a fox this evening perhaps a Cadmean vixen you of course may be a nemean lion and we can play tag and find out what happens if you catch me.”

It all came out so rapid fire that the words were pretty much touching and it took me a good three seconds to piece everything together.  “Amy,” I asked, “Do you just file away every thought you have about me and then blurt it all out at once everytime you see me?”

Her tongue ran itself between the gap in her teeth. “Mhm,” she nodded. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Just confirming a hypothesis.”

Ivy’s grip tightened around my hand.  Her fingers lightly raked against the side of my hand as she withdrew them into tiny gnarled little nubs. “Hello Amy.”

“Hello Ivy,” Amy said. “Good to see you, again.”  She rolled over onto her back and stared up at us from the ground. “Will you be joining us as well?”

Ivy called something out to her mother that sounded like a question.  There was a pause in the Amazon’s small-talk long enough for Zoge to nod her approval.  “Yes, Amy. I am.”

“Ah.” The nutter’s eyes shifted back to me. “I see we’re upping the challenge level this evening.”

Ivy hadn’t yet untensed her hand from me.  “You don’t want to bite me again, do you?”

Like a cat eyeing a rubber mouse, Amy rolled over onto her belly and propped herself back up on her forearms. “I’ve got fewer teeth now which would make it more challenging and I do love a good challenge…buuuuuut I don’t want to get in any trouble.  Will you get me in trouble?”

Ivy took half a step backwards.  “Are you planning on being bad?”

Amy puckered her lips in thought. “Hmmm…nope.”   

Ivy’s grip loosened. “Really?”

“Of course not. I never plan on being bad.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Ivy let out an audible sigh of relief and released her grip on my hand. “I’m really happy to hear that.”

Amy had reverted to making snow angels on the mat. “Me too.”

For the sake of my fingers, I didn’t give voice to the thought that the only thing Amy had promised was that she either didn’t plan anything in advance or that she didn’t consider her particular brand of chaos ‘bad’.  With awkward introductions out of the way, there was only one missing piece to tonight’s puzzle.

“Hey hey!”  Jessica called out, stumbling into the living room with arms full of colorful cardboard boxes; each one with a different brand name or logo.  It was cold comfort that none of them were big enough to contain diapers. She had so many stacked up on top of each other that I only recognized her by her voice at first. “Sorry to keep you waiting!”

I’d spent all day avoiding my replacement. Tracy too.  Good grace had allowed Beouf’s and Starke’s class to just miss each other like two ships passing in the night. Or perhaps it wasn’t luck as much as it was a conscious decision by Melony.  Lucky or not, I’d already sealed my fate and was going to be locked in with her.  Combined with Amy and Ivy things had the potential to be a real powder keg.

Strange then that I didn’t want to see it explode. Goddamnit, I couldn’t even hate the Amazon that’d succeeded where Ambrose had failed!  I did my best not to turn my head back towards the hallway leading to my room, and in doing so thought solely about the tablet and what messages might be waiting for me.  Had to get away!

Zoge put her arms out and took the top half of Jessica’s load from her.  “Here Miss Starke, let me help you.”  Ever the assistant she started tidily stacking the boxes beside the couch.

“Jessica!” Janet laughed. “What are you doing?!”

“I was digging through some of my old stuff in the attic,” Jessica strained, lowering the rest of her load down to the floor, “and I didn’t didn’t know which activities the munchkins would like best.  So I sort of brought them all.”

The small bit of anxiety that I hadn’t realized I’d been experiencing fizzled. If these were all Amazonian toys and games they were unlikely to be as harmful as something created to infantilize a Little.  No jingling bells or tones to mess with my coordination or rigged devices created to make me feel helpless.

Helena read some of the boxes aloud. “Confectionary Kingdom?  Mrs. Tuber Torso?!  Crocodile Croquet? I hope none of these have choking parts.”

“Don’t worry, “ Jessica assured, “I’ll keep an eye on things, and if anything gets broken it’ll be my fault.”

“Jess!” Janet gasped, “How long have you had some of these?” There was a second hand cardboard box filled to the brim with wind up toys, inexpensive cloth dolls, and non-poseable action figures; some still in their original packaging when they were prizes in fast food children’s meals.

Jessica’s smile lit up the room when Janet pointed it out.  “That’s probably going to be my treasure box for good behavior. I wouldn’t mind having a couple of product testers to make sure everything still works.”

“You know you’re not going to have time for all of this, right Jess?”

“Yeah,” Jessica said. “I know. This is all going into my classroom tomorrow morning. It’s just making a pit stop here.”  

“Okay…” Janet said, almost as cautiously as she did when she sensed I was scheming something.

“Right,” Jessica said. “Now you three have a ladies’ night to go to.  The sooner you leave, the sooner I get to play!”  More proof that size was the determining factor in Maturosis diagnoses.

Helena clicked her tongue. “You got it bad, girl!”

“Yeah!” Jessica said.  “I know!  So let me have it! Also the front door is wide open.”

“Jessica!” Janet scoffed.

“Don’t look at me,” Jessica said. “It was wide open when I came in.”

Janet’s jaw dropped. “Helena!”

Amy’s giantess blushed. “Oops! Time to go!”  She picked up Amy for one last kiss on the cheek and then plopped the girl back down on her rump. “Bye Amy! Love you!” she said, quick-stepping for the door.  

“Love you more, Mommy!” Amy said back.

Behind her was an exasperated yet bemused Janet followed  “Bye Clark! Be good! I love you!”

“Love you too, Mommy!” I hollered back without thinking.

Zoge was close behind, quietly smiling at the other two’s dynamic. She exchanged more cooing words with Ivy that I could not understand but could certainly infer from the tone.

“Okay ladies,” I heard Helena’s voice boom from the front door. “I’ll drive. First round’s on-” her voice was cut off by the sound of the slamming door.

Alone at last.

Jessica approached the playmat and hunched down into a half squat with her hands on her knees. “Hi guys!” she beamed.

“I’m Clark’s Auntie Jessica!”

“Hi Clark’s Mommy’s other friend!”  Amy waved up at her.

Jessica giggled. “You can call me Jessica if you want, Amy.  Or Miss Jessica.” Her eyes sparkled the same way they had when we’d first met.  “Or Auntie Jessica. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Ivy snuck up and tugged at Jessica’s pant leg.  “Miss Starke? Can I call you Auntie Jessica?”

Not thirty seconds in and already Jessica looked close to turning into a congealed mass of purring ooze. Whatever had happened during her week off really did have her baby crazy turned up to eleven.  “Of course you can, sweetie. I just want you to be comfortable.’

“Excellent!” Amy began, “Now that everyone is all together we can begin the-”

“One second, baby,” Jessica interrupted. “Let me go through your diaper bags and make sure I’ve got everything you two need.” She grabbed both Amy and Ivy’s diaper bags and started digging through them.  “We’ve got diapers…” she made two small stacks on the coffee table; two diapers on either side.  “And some bottles.”

“Bonyu?” Ivy said.

“What flavor?” Amy asked. “Taste it!”

“Yeah, no. Been there. Done that.,” Jessica admitted. Her face puckered at the memory of trying my ‘goat’s milk’. “Love it for you. Not for me. And I don’t think your Mommies would laugh as much as Clark’s.”  She dug out a pair of light green pajamas that didn’t even have feet. It was nothing more than a cloth sack with sleeves and a neckhole.  “Ooooh! Look at this! Jammies for a Little wiggle worm.”

“Fascist…!” Amy hissed under her breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Amy lied.

“What?” Jessica asked, incredulous.  “That’s what it says on the front.” She turned the sleep sack around. As advertised, the front of the near immobilizing jammies had the words ‘Little Wiggle Worm’ embroidered on them in lavender thread.

“My opinion remains unchanged but I shall withhold my final verdict until further data is presented.”

I eyed the girls’ diapers. “Want me to help, Aunty Jessica?” I offered. “I can take these to the changing table for later.”

Jessica grabbed the bottles.  “Nah,” she said. She took them and stuffed them back where they’d come from. “Just needed to know what I’ve got to work with tonight.”

I ran my tongue along the inside of my teeth and tried not to allow myself to cringe. “Do you want me to get some of my diapers and bring them out here?” Really, I just needed an excuse to go back to my room for a few minutes.

“You’re fine, Clark.” Jessica said.

“I could take the bags to my room and-”

“Clark. Don’t worry about it.”

“Clark wants to be like us!” Ivy said, too proud to be sarcastic. It sucked so much that I wasn’t as disgusted as I should have been by that statement.

“We’ll figure out the diaper situation” Jessica said, “after I put these bad boys in the fridge.” She shuffled off to the kitchen. “Be right back!”

Amy scooted up on her bum to Ivy. “Ivy did you hear that a second ago? Clark said he loves his Mommy. Does he normally do that?”

“No, ”Ivy solemnly shook her head. “He does not.”

Amy’s jack-o-lantern smile was too genuine for me to be comfortable.  “Hey! New milestone reached! I’m proud of ya, buddy!” She latched onto Ivy’s forearm.  “Ivy, can you help me up and keep me balanced please? Clark’s earned an emotional Honesty Hug.”

The refrigerator door opened in the kitchen. “Are either of you close to leaking?” I whispered.

“Mm-mm” Ivy said.

Amy’s face scrunched up while she concentrated on balance.  “Dunno. Why?”

“Whoops!” Jessica’s voice said in the kitchen. “Gotta label!”

“Do either of you need to poop?” I suggested, hoping for a ‘yes’.

“Need to?” Ivy frowned. “Are you asking if we’re constipated?”

“If I cared enough to poop on command, why would I wear diapers?” Amy said. Her legs took on an overly wide, wobbling stance and her arms shot out while she attempted to balance. Ivy maneuvered around her and held Amy up by the armpits. “Hug?”

This is what I got for asking someone who had never been potty trained and someone who generally didn’t give a toss about what was going on in their pants. “I just need one of you to get changed right now.  Preferably on the floor.”  

“Is this a fetish thing?” Amy asked. “Because it’s kinda feeling like a fetish thing.”  She wobbled forward and I stepped forward to catch her.  “Atta boy! Hug complete!” She clung to my shoulders long enough to be uncomfortable and slowly slid back down to her knees.

The refrigerator door shut with a muffled thud.

“Do you need a change?” Ivy asked. “Are you constipated?”

Had my hair still had its curls I would have yanked at it in aggravation. “No, I just-”

“Clark,” Amy cut me off, “we’re not animals.  This isn’t a dictatorship! We don’t pee and poop wherever and whenever we’re told. We live in a society!”

Out of time! Distraction attempt number one, failed.  Jessica rejoined us.  She eagerly hit her knees on the mat and rubbed her hands together.  “Okay, so let’s talk turkey!”

“Clark is constipated!” Ivy said. “Or he needs a diaper change!”

“That’s not how you do it,” Amy scoffed. “This is how you do it! Ah-gobblblblblblblbl! Goblblblblb!” Goblblblb? Goblblb!”

I was pulled into Jessica’s probing grasp.  “You’re not that wet,” she pronounced. “Does your tummy hurt? Do you need some belly medicine?”

“No,” I grumbled. “I’m fine.”

She put me down. “Littles being silly?” Jessica asked.

“Just business as usual,” I sighed.

“Oh right!” Amy remembered. “The tour! I haven’t given you the tour yet!”  The chaos goblin rolled onto all fours. “Let’s go, let’s go, move along, move along. Please hold all questions until the end of the tour.”

Jessica leaned forward and scooped Amy up.  “No thanks. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

Idea!  “Ivy hasn’t taken the tour!” I chimed in.  “Shouldn’t she get a tour?”  If Amy did her whole spiel again it would give me the opportunity to slip back out and talk to the person on the other side of MistuhGwiffin.

Our babysitter scratched her chin. “Hmmmm….maybe.”

“Clark got a tour when he came to my house,” Ivy added, innocently.

“Let Amy do it! “ I insisted. “It’s really funny!” Quickly I said to Ivy. “Amy Madra tours are for entertainment purposes only and are not to be used as a substitute for factual information beyond getting a general layout of the house.”

“Seriously?” Jessica asked. “Do you really want to give a tour?”

“Our Mommies thought it was funny,” I added, praying she’d take the bait. .

“Okay. Sold.”  The babysitter set Amy down on “Amy, on with the tour!”

I pumped my fist in victory. “Yes!”

To my chagrin, Ivy and I were immediately scooped up and riding on either side of Jessica’s hips. “Now the tour group can all stay together!”

No! Distraction attempt two thwarted!  Had to get to that tablet!  What if even now, my contact was writing me off as a troll or a faker? What if they lost interest?

“Right this way, right this way!” Amy said, crawling for the kitchen. “Step lively, now! Please do not touch any of the exhibits and save all questions for the end of the tour. El color del autobús escolar es amarillo y tiene cuatro ruedas.”

“Oh I’m love this,” Jessica giggled, following behind.

Just like the first time, Amy started in the kitchen. “This is the bedroom where food and other delicious eatibles are commonly prepared…”   The route taken from room to room and what was said was nearly identical to the first time a few weeks prior. Janet’s house might have been a historic monument that Amy walked people through several times a day while rattling off scripted banter and fun ‘facts’.

“This is just pretend, right?” Ivy asked Jessica several times.  

“Yes, honey, it is.”

There were only two notable differences.  The first occurred at the laundry room where Amy altered her rambling about clothes torture with, “In the name of academic honesty I am required to inform you that the nature of what is considered clothing has been called into question by esteemed philosopher, Master Citizen Doctor Clark Grange Esquire Dee-Dee-Ess.”  The second came at the very end at my nursery where Amy said, “Besides the two beds this bedroom also seems to have room service features and is where a criminal mastermind is currently plotting his eventual escape from incarceration.”

How did she know?  How did she always know?

Jessica looked over at me. “Escape? Really?” Everything about her was playful like she didn’t take Amy seriously but I was three seconds away from breaking out into a cold sweat.

“Yes,”  Amy said. “How else can he continue to grow his immensely profitable drug smuggling-slash-candy making empire? You can only do so much from the inside, Auntie Jessica.”

Jessica set Ivy and me down. “How much television does your Mommy let you watch Little Miss?”

“Not a lot.” Amy said immediately.

“Let me rephrase that:  How much television do you watch and does your Mommy know about it?”

Amy lifted her right hand and stared at her wrist “Oh look at the time! No wonder I’m so hungry.  What are we having for dinner? Pizza? Is it pizza? I bet it’s pizza.”

Jessica put her hands on her hips. “No pizza. All that bread will make your tummy hurt.”

Amy didn’t blink. “Very good. I see you’ve done your research.  Dinner?”

Jessica dug into her back pocket and took out her phone.  “How about wings?” She offered. “Unbreaded. You choose the sauce. I don’t have to cook. Everybody wins.”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed,” Ivy said, pensively. “Wings are messy.”

Jessica was still punching buttons on her phone. “I’ll get your sauce on the side so you can be careful and dip.”

Ivy looked like someone who just found out their cancer was in remission. “Really?!”

“Mhm. We can also wrap a towel around you like a bib so you don’t get any on your jammies.”

Ivy started bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“I do like bones…” Amy said.

Jessica looked up from her phone. “No bones. I will be deboning them personally.”

“Prude…”

The twiggy Amazon’s face became a tantalizing mask, a carnival barker promising sights unseen just behind the tent. “But Amy…I was going to order yours with extra sauce. And I’d take your nightie off so you could eat as messy as you want.  You could have naked wings…” she paused for effect. “Naked.”

“Will I truly be naked if I’m still wearing my diaper?”

“Only if diapers count as clothes.”

Amy lowered her eyes from Jessica to me. Her stoic, defiant expression faded.  “Okay.  She’s pretty good.”

“So that’s a yes?” Jessica asked.

“It’s not a no.”

“Cool.  Clark?”

I shook myself awake.  Before Amy looked at me, I’d been trying my best not to think about the tablet just a few yards away.  “Barbecue, please.”  I started toddling out the door. “I’m gonna start playing.”  I turned the corner into the hallway and then bolted as fast as I could into the living room.

Had to lure them back out of my room. Had to find a way to get back into my room and get some privacy! How to keep all three of them busy and not be missed?

I blazed right past the board games, instantly discounting them. Nothing involving group play or turn taking.  Nothing where my presence would be missed or unexplained.  Oh for the days where going to the bathroom was a socially valid excuse. I shuffled back back to the girls’ diapers bags and stood just far enough away for me to have plausible deniability in regards to what I’d been looking at.

Changes would have been a perfect way to keep Jessica preoccupied for a couple minutes as long as it stayed out of my room, but that wasn’t in the cards.

My house guests caught up to me far too quickly. “Oooooh! Good choice, Clark!” Jessica cheered.  “Do you wanna play?”

I’d accidentally meandered over to the largest thing Jessica had hauled in with her. A big plastic tub filled with interchangeable connecting mental tracks and poles laid before me. “What…is it?”

“It’s my Michael the Mono playset.,” Jessica said. Her smile seemed to light up the room. The way it works is you get to build a monorail track however you want.  And when it’s done, you put a toy train on it and turn it on and watch it run.”

Ivy was nodding along excitedly. “I like building things!”   She was already inching closer and closer to the bin.

Amy licked her lips. “Batteries you say? Perchance a few volts to whet our appetites before the main course arrives?”

“You could, hypothetically,” Jessica allowed. “But then you wouldn’t be able to try the riddles.”

Amy snapped to attention.  “Riddles?  What riddles? Say more about riddles now.”

Jessica had already started to empty the bin and pile the tracks and poles onto the living room carpet.  She reached in and took out the lead engine. Its bullet-like front had a disturbing face painted on it grinning with maniacal glee.  “This is Michael the Mono. When you turn him on he goes faster and faster until he runs himself off the rail.  But if you beat him in a riddle game he’ll slow back down.”

“Yeah we’re doing this,” Amy said. She and Ivy converged on the pile of parts Jessica had already made. “Ivy, you build and I’ll pass the materials?”

Ivy danced in place like the excited toddler she’d been raised to be.  “I’d love to!”

An opening! I backed up and away from the girls.  “What if Jessica and I started over here and we could do a meet in the middle sort of thing?”

Jessica hefted the tub up like it was nothing and took three giant strides over to me.  “Absolutely!”

I worked fast. Fast and sloppy. Connecting rail after rail haphazardly in random zigzags and loops that threatened to collide with each other, placing the support piers unevenly. Across the room Ivy was making a streamlined masterpiece worthy of exposition. The difference between our sections was the difference between a well crafted roller coaster and a rickety death trap.  Amy was diligently handing Ivy pieces, while saying nonsense about flux capacitors and pylons. Ivy tittered and cackled like Amy was a professional comedian every time the nutter paused for breath.

The pieces Amy handed Ivy seemed completely random and despite all that Ivy found a place for each one, going so far as to put individual curves out ahead of the track and then connect them after the fact.  It was as if the Little Yamatoan had an entire blueprint in her mind alread sketched out.

“Now how do I…?”  I stopped and growled, feigning consternation at my purposefully bad masterpiece. I took the front end and moved it to the back end. I ignored a middle section collapsing as I did so.

Jessica had been patiently handing me piece after piece, her face twitching slightly and her breath hastening while she tried to struggle to control her impulse to correct me. “Do you want help?”

“No thank you,” I said. “I’m good. Just gotta figure out…” I started mumbling something under my breath.  

Crawling on her hands and knees, Jessica sidled up beside me and pointed. “What if you put that-” she pointed to an errant piece of track. “over there?”

My lip pouted out in a show of concentration.  “Nuh-uh,” I said. “Won’t work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“What if I-?” Her hand oozed out towards a rail she fancied.

“Auntie Jessica!” I stomped my foot. “No helping!”

My babysitter sat back on her heels and held hands hiked up to her shoulders, palms out, to show that she wasn’t going to touch. “I’m not helping! I’m not helping!”

For thirty seconds I paced and poked at different defunct pieces, picked up others and tried to force them together in inconvenient ways. Finally, my own impatience got the better of me.  I hung my head in defeat.  “Fine. Help, please.”

That was all the impetus required. “So you want to try and connect them like this in a way that will maximize stability while still creating a form of natural flow and movement,” Jessica said, rapidly rearranging my terrible hard work. “Take into account the physics of the track and how it will affect the train when we add it.”  I kept handing her tracks while her hands deftly rearranged and rebuilt everything from scratch.  

“Is the riddle part soon?” I asked, sounding bored.

“Almost,” Jessica said. “Just gotta merge our track with Ivy and Amy’s.”  Her eyes did not leave the structure.

“Cool,” I yawned. “I’m gonna go get Lion.” I started walking back towards my room.  Lion loves riddles.  Is that okay?”

She didn’t look back. “Sure, kiddo. Go get Lion.’

Three steps in and I started sprinting.  Had to get back to the tablet!  Huffing and puffing I skidded to a stop and grabbed the tablet. I started shaking all over again trying to log in past the screen and logging into MistuhGwiffin. Like an idiot I hadn’t saved any of my credentials or passwords on the off chance that Janet or someone else figured out the ‘JEFE’ code.

My inbox was full to bursting with messages from MistuhSocko9583158.

“Okay. How can I help? Do you have family that needs contacting? Friends to give your location to? Resources with information on how to escape?”

Yes, yes, yes and even more yes besides. The messages didn’t stop there.

“I have some anti-hypnosis videos I could send. They’re supposed to make you immune to cartoons by hypnotizing you into being an adult, but I don’t know how effective they actually are. I’m too scared to test them.  You also might not want to. I hear that for some the cartoons are the final escape.”

Anti-hypnosis videos? I hadn’t ever heard of that before. That would take some time to process.  The messages kept coming.

“Sorry. That was dark.”

“Hello?”

“You there?”

“You okay?”

“Shit you didn’t get caught did you?”

My throat constricted when I read. “If you don’t respond soon, I’mma delete.”

The ellipses were bobbing again!  I was running out of time.  “Here!” I typed in. “Sorry!”

I’d just pressed enter when the next message came back.  “Sorry my friend. I’m scared. Good luck.”

Time stood still. I was too late!  Words cannot describe the depths of despair I had in that moment.  Had I the mind to act, I would have bashed the tablet into pieces while I screamed right then and there.  So close yet ultimately futile.  Fuck this false hope! Fuck it right in the ass!  Fuck you Socko!

The wave ellipses danced for me again.  “You’re back!”

“sorry cant talk,” I typed as fast as my fingers would let me. “Talk later?”

The next reply came swiftly. “Trying not to get caught?”

“Yes please dont go.”

A hand clamped down on my shoulder. Make me jump halfway out of my skin. Game over! I’d been caught. Goodbye tablet! “Clark? What are you doing?”

The hand wasn’t mammoth. In fact it was technically slightly smaller than my own, though much much stronger.  “Hi, Ivy,” I said, trying to hide the tremble and guilt in my voice.

“We’re done building! Your Auntie wanted me to check up on you.”

“I was looking for Lion and I got distracted,” I fibbed. “Sorry.”

Ivy’s hand left my shoulder.  She walked past me and climbed into my crib with zero effort.  “He’s right here, silly!”

I slid the tablet back into its poor hiding place, trying to seem casual about it.  “Please don’t tell Auntie Jessica,” I begged, taking Lion into my grip.  “I’m not supposed to be playing games on my tablet with company around.”

Ivy seemed incredibly thoughtful.  “Okay,” she chirped. “I won’t.”

The world’s biggest tattle tale was giving me a pass. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.”  She pulled her finger across her mouth. “Zipped lips!”

Neither of us moved to go.  “May I ask why?”

“Because we’re babies,” Ivy said.  “And sometimes you gotta do naughty things to be a good baby. If we were good all the time we’d be Grown-Ups and wouldn’t need them.”

That sounded like something Amy might say. “Where did you learn that?” I asked.

“You.”

I let that settle in. “Oh….”

“Clark?” Ivy asked, her normally demure mask slipping and showing genuine sadness and a touch of fear.  “Amy was just being silly with the tour, right?  You’re not really trying to run away to a drug and candy empire?”

I snorted despite my nerves, perhaps because of them. “No, Ivy.” I said. “I’m not a criminal mastermind trying to escape prison.  Amy just doesn’t know when to stop playing pretend.”  Or keep her mouth shut.

“Good,” Ivy said. “I don’t want you to run away. I’d miss you.”

Well damn. If that didn’t stab me right in the chest and twist the knife. This was the downside with making peace and turning enemies into friends.

I really hoped Ivy hadn’t seen what site I was on or what I’d been typing. I really hoped that Socko didn’t ditch me in the time it took to weasel my way back into my own bedroom. I hoped Amy wouldn’t accidentally find a way to make tonight blow up in my face. “Come on,” I took her hand.  “Riddle time.”