November Exclusive - "Fidget" - Part 3 (Patreon)

THREE

Ben lies in his crib. The adult-sized crib Mummy put him inside, with a goodnight kiss, with a placing of a dummy between his lips.

The nursery sounds like the sea. He can hear waves crashing. But it’s just sound, coming from a little box, like magic. It’s noise to help Ben sleep, because it’s definitely sleepy-time.

Still, there are noises from elsewhere in the house. Downstairs. Mummy and her friend. A friend who used to be Ben’s best friend. They’re watching TV. Something for grown-ups. They’re laughing. Ben feels a pang of jealousy, and then he remembers; he doesn’t watch grown-up TV. He’s just a baby. A silly, sweet baby.

Ben sits up, looks down at himself in the murky glow afforded by the nightlight. He’s wearing his dinosaur pyjamas. The ones that are Mummy’s favourite, because her sweet, silly boy looks the cutest in them. Ben touches one of the dinosaurs on his stomach and expresses his approval.

“Duhhh-duh-duh,” he says softly, the babbling clouded further by his dummy.

Ben likes dinosaurs. Because baby boys like dinosaurs. Ben knows all about what he likes, what he can do. He knows all about what Mummy does for him. He knows that Mummy is in charge and that Mummy loves him very much. She loves baby Ben to bits.

When I caught them together, my marriage blew up in my face. Like a grenade. Like a bomb filled with nails and broken glass.

Ben blinks. He doesn’t like explosions; he certainly doesn’t like nasty surprises. But as he sits in the crib, looking through the wooden bars, he knows that somehow, he has been stupefied, he has been reduced. Because Mummy used to be his wife, just like Eric used to be his best friend.

There’s a bad taste in his mouth. Something that is not nummy-nums. Ben spits out his dummy, and there is room for his tongue now, there is room for other thoughts.

What did Mummy say earlier, when they entered the nursery?

You’re going to be a good boy for Mummy tonight. Because it’s Mummy’s special night. You’re going to be such a good boy.

And Ben didn’t want to be a good boy. Why not? Isn’t he a good boy? Isn’t he good, and sweet, and silly? Thinking of the words makes Ben feel dizzy, it reminds him of nursery rhymes and the chunky thing he’s wearing under his pyjamas. Most of all, it reminds him of Mummy’s smiling face, looming over him, ready to kiss him and shower him with praise.

Why wouldn’t he want all that? Ben smiles, remembering the fun of bath-time, splashing bubbles in the warm water, playing with a variety or rubber duckies that he didn’t know he owned. Mummy took care of shampooing his hair, Mummy took care of washing every part of his body.

There now. All clean and ready for sleepy-time. What a good boy!

Yes. Every time Mummy called him that, Ben had to agree. His mind would shrink to match the words. Because grown-ups aren’t good boys or good girls. Eric definitely isn’t a good boy. Because he’s old. Because he’s doing things with Ben’s mummy.

Ben’s fingers twitch. He rubs his hands together. Ben’s fingers tingle. He wriggles his toes, watching them in action, and at once those movement is fascinating and everyday. The toes belong to him, he controls the tones, and that is something wonderful, it is something he has known for a long, long time.

Thinking about Mummy and Eric makes Ben want to fidget. He should get out of the crib. That’s impossible – babies don’t just leave their crib - but he should do it anyway. He should go downstairs and tell Eric to go away. Mummy belongs to Ben.

Too much twitching. Two much worry.

Because what would Ben’s friend – his before friend – say if Ben came downstairs and into the living room? Would Eric be embarrassed? Would he be afraid?

Ben squirms. Eric would look at Ben, dressed in his dinosaur pyjamas, in his all-too-obvious nappy. And Eric would laugh. Eric would call Ben a stupid, big baby, and even though friends don’t call each other nasty names, Eric would be right.

Such a good boy! Such a sweet and silly baby!

Ben frowns. If he thinks about being a good boy, he doesn’t have to worry about nasty Eric. He pats his thick nappy. It’s dry, but even if he wets it, even if he does a big poopy, Mummy won’t mind. She won’t be cross, because how could she be angry with her good boy? No, Mummy will clean him up, she will feed and dress and cuddle him.

That’s how he wipes that frown away. That’s how he gets rid of those annoying tingles.

Ben looks around the crib. There’s the brown teddy bear Mummy had given him – a special gift for being such a good boy. He pulls it into his lap and puts both hands around it. Good to cuddle, to stroke with his twitchy fingers. Yes, that’s better.

That’s right, isn’t teddy nice and fluffy? A perfect teddy for a perfect sweet baby. Mummy’s good, sweet and silly baby boy.

And Ben knows the rules. If he’s a good boy and sleeps, then he’ll get a treat when he wakes up. What’s the treat? He has no idea, but Mummy is good at surprises. The good kind, of course, not the nasty kind.

After bath-time, Mummy had dried Ben off, dressed in his best, cutest pyjamas, and then cuddles with him, Ben drinking warm milk from his bottle, Mummy stroking his hair and telling him all about what a good boy he was. This seemed to make Ben initially just as fidgety as before, if not more so, but it was a nice kind of fidgety, the kind that made Ben squirm and bounce on his nappied bottom, and want to touch Mummy, to give her special kisses.

Aren’t you all wriggly! What a silly baby! But it’s sleepy-time, remember? Time to be Mummy’s good boy and go to dream-land so you can have lovely dreams, and when you wake up, Mummy will be here to give you lovely cuddles.

After drinking his milk like a good boy, Ben found himself getting extra-sleepy, so much that he could barely keep his eyes open, and those funny fidgets quickly faded away. Ben let Mummy put him in the crib, he cuddled the teddy bear, and he lay down because it was sleepy-time. He let Mummy put the dummy between his lips, and when Mummy told him to be a good boy, he closed his eyes, and did exactly what he was told. He felt his body relax, his mind slow, and off he went to dreamland.

When you wake up, Mummy will be here…

But that hasn’t happened, has it. Did Ben wake up early, or is Mummy late. Either way, Ben can hear her downstairs. Downstairs with Eric.

He can hear them, even over the sound of the waves. Fake waves. The laughter is real. No dreams for them, whatever they’re doing is real. The sound from the television stops, and then there’s more laughter, followed by the creaking of stairs.

Mummy and Eric are coming to see Ben. They’re going to enter the nursery, turn on the big light, and Eric will laugh at the big baby. Maybe Mummy will as well. Because Mummy isn’t always nice. Sometimes Mummy tells lies.

Like when she lied about being sorry. When she lied about never seeing Eric again. And when she lied about wanting to go and see a special doctor with Ben.

Except, the last part is true. They did go to see the special doctor. That’s where Ben found out how good it felt to be a good boy. That he was a sweet and silly baby, and that he had to keep his eye on the…

On the what? Ben’s nose wrinkles as he tries to remember.

There are footsteps outside the nursery. The door will open. Ben’s heart thuds in his chest. He doesn’t want these thoughts any more, he doesn’t want a nasty surprise.

Eric’s voice, sounding urgent, insistent. Hushing noises from Mummy. And then the footsteps move on. Past the nursery, to Mummy’s bedroom.

Because Mummy thinks that Ben is asleep. Because Ben is supposed to be a good boy.

Ben wants to be a good boy. If he isn’t, then he has to get out of the crib, he has to go to Mummy’s bedroom. He has to shout at Eric, he even has to shout at Mummy!

And hasn’t Ben done all of those things before?

What did the doctor ask?

So we’re here to decide what happens next. What would you like to happen?

And what did Ben say in response, with his grown-up voice.

I just want it to be over.

But it can’t be over. Not really. A nasty surprise like the one Ben experienced, it can’t be wished away.

So the doctor had another idea. Such a clever doctor.

Things will have to change at home, won’t they. Things will have to change in the bedroom.

Yes. Absolutely. Because Ben doesn’t like nasty surprises, and Mummy doesn’t want to give up Eric.

Ben feels his hands and feet tingle.

The doctor had shown Ben something. What was it? Ben whines, a sound from the back of his throat.

Down the hall, the bedroom door closes. More noises, both Eric and Mummy, as if the room is soundproofed, as if they do whatever they want.

“Oh. Oh, God.”

Ben sits in the adult-sized crib, dressed like an infant, and he knows that Mummy…that his wife has rejected him. He knows that he can’t just sit here, even though facing the truth will be agony, that his marriage will blow up in his face, and there will be broken glass and the sharpest of nails.

And then he looks up.

His mouth drops open. And he sees the red and white swirls of the mobile above his head.

No more worries, no more upset. It’ll be like flicking a switch.

Ben exhales and a lazy, dim-witted smile takes shape as he gazes at the swirls. All he has to do is focus on them. There’s an answer there if he focuses hard enough. There’s a prize if he’s good. If he’s a good boy.

But the prize is already one. As Ben keeps looking at the red and whites as they swirl idly in the dim light above his head. His body relaxes, a warm wetness trickling over his crotch. Nothing to worry about. Mummy will take care of that.

Ben lets go of his teddy and it rests in his lap. He gazes at the swirls, and he manages to babble softly. He would reach for the mobile if he wasn’t so silly and uncoordinated, if he wasn’t such a sweet and silly baby.

And then he’s on his back again, just as Mummy left him earlier. He looks at the swirls, such clever swirls from the clever doctor, reminding Ben with every turn and twist that he is the best, the sweetest and silliest of babies.

His eyes, such heavy and sleepy eyes, drift shut, and Ben lies spread-eagled in the crib, perfectly relaxed, perfectly asleep, with an infant’s reassurance that Mummy will be there when he wakes up.

And Mummy will be there, once she’s had her fun with Eric.

THE END

Based on a story idea from special helper DokoDokoNe:

He begrudgingly entered marriage counseling after his wife's affair to try to keep things intact, but why does he feel more and more okay with the idea after every session?