Simon's Journal

Volume II

Thirteen Nights -- After the Crusade

Written by

Danny
Author of Thirteen Days

Chapter - 2

Monday, March 01, 2004

PART 1 - Sir Isaac Newton wasn't just some chump!

Several weeks ago in Science class at school we'd been talking about the laws of physics and in particular Sir Isaac Newton's' law that `For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction'.

Now we'd been discussing this in relation to space flight. It went something like this: If you push on anything, it pushes back on you. That's why if you lean against the wall, you don't just fall through it. The wall pushes back on you as hard as you push on it, and you and the wall stay in place. If you throw something, you put more force behind it then just leaning on it, so it pushes back with more force. Our teacher explained that this is hard to observe, because usually, if you throw something away from you, the friction between you and the floor makes resistance to keep you in place. However, if you take away the friction and try again, you will move away from the thing that you threw as much as it moves away from you.

The bigger the push, the bigger the push back. That is why cannons and guns recoil. As the cannon ball flies in one direction, the cannon moves in the opposite direction. Our teacher went on to say that if we were to turn to the cannon up on its end, it gets closer to how a rocket works. The force that pushes the cannon ball down also pushes the cannon up. But since the cannon is bigger then the cannon ball it has more inertia acting to keep it in one place. We would need a larger force to push the cannon a great distance. If we could make a long continuous hot explosion in the cannon, instead of one quick one, we could push the cannon a far distance. The air that is heated would push out the back, pushing the cannon in the opposite direction. This is how jets work as well as how rockets get into space. Therefore, since every action as an equal and opposite reaction, something will go forward if it is pushing matter behind itself.

So why am I thinking about this heavy brain bending stuff? Well, something got me thinking earlier today and I started to wonder if Sir Isaac Newton's law could also be applied to non-matter, such as life or life events. For example; say I am walking down the street and see someone I know from school; I wave to them but instead of them waving back to me they flip me the bird before turning to walk away. That is an action with an equal and opposite reaction, right?

I'm probably not making any sense here at all but here's what has happened today that's got me thinking about this sort of stuff. This morning I woke up, managed to get out of bed all by myself and staggered out to the kitchen where I found dad starting to make coffee.

"Morning," I said through a yawn.

Dad turned to look at me, "Wow, you're up early!"

I yawned again, stretched and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It's not even five o'clock yet." He said.

"Huh?" I stopped rubbing my eyes and stood looking at him as my brain attempted to comprehend what he'd just said.

"It is?" I finally asked.

The left side of dad's mouth rose in a half smile and then with a twitch of his head he motioned for me to come to him. I moved further into the kitchen and stood beside him as he placed the filter into the coffee maker. He reached his left arm around my shoulders and pulled me in close to his side, giving me a one armed hug. I watched as he scooped the coffee from the canister into the awaiting filter.

"How many do you use?" I asked.

"Two heaping scoops." He showed me how he scooped out the coffee and then dumped the second scoop into the filter.

I rubbed at my taped up chest, "Oh, I didn't know; I guess I always thought you'd use more then that."

"Nope, just two scoops is all it takes!" dad said, hugging me a little tighter.

He picked up the plastic lid to the coffee decanter and was about to put it back on when I asked, "So now you have to put in some water?"

"I already did that. All I have to do now is turn it on and sit back and wait!" he pointed to the black switch on the side of the coffee maker, "You want to do it?" he asked.

Without answering, I reached out and flipped the switch - I didn't hear anything. "Is it working?" I asked.

He was reclosing the cabinet door after having put the coffee away, "Well, sure it is!" he said.

"I don't hear nothing, though," I said tapping the side.

Dad laughed softly, "It's `I don't hear anything'." He corrected, "You have to give it a minute or two to heat up the water first!" I didn't even catch his correction of what I'd said right away and when I finally did, it felt too late to comment on it.

He released me from his semi-embrace to go get his coffee cup out of the dishwasher.

"Can I have some when it's ready?" I asked trying to sound confident and mature.

He didn't answer right away but he did look up at me as he reached into the dishwasher and raised a single eyebrow at my request.

"I suppose it would be okay for you to have half a cup!" he said.

I beamed back at him and rocked up on the balls of my feet a couple times excitedly. I watched as he got a second coffee cup down from the cabinet. Normally those were only used for company `cause dad has his own coffee cup that he always uses all the time.

"So how do you take yours?" he asked petting the back of my hair.

Not knowing what he meant I wrinkled my nose a bit and grunted, "Huh?"

He laughed again, "That was the right answer!"

I still had no idea what he was talking about, but he went on to explain, "Some people like their coffee `black'; that means they don't want anything in it. Then there are those that like it `regular' and that means they want both cream and sugar."

"I don't know; how should I have mine?" I asked.

"I'd imagine you'd like yours `Regular'." He answered as he reached over the counter for the little sugar bowl.

"Ok, I'll have mine regular please!" I said smartly and he gave the back of my head another pet.

It was then that I realized mom wasn't out of bed yet. "Where's mom?" I asked.

"Your aunt called again last night and needed your mom to come over and help her. She over did it yesterday at your party and her foot is all swollen up again." Dad said as he put two spoonfuls of sugar into the coffee cup he'd taken out for me to use.

"Can you get the milk out for me?" he asked.

"Sure!" I said moving to the refrigerator.

"So did she stay all night over there?" I asked.

"Yep, but I expect she'll be home after bit." He said as I handed him the half-gallon jug of milk.

For the first time since waking up, I looked down at the condition of my diaper and saw that it was sagging quite a bit in the front from being so wet. I don't think I like cloth diapers so much in the mornings `cause when they are really wet they seem to become a little loose. I suppose that if I didn't have on the plastic plants, it might just fall right off my hips.

Dad must have saw me looking down at myself too `cause he said, "You want me to help you get changed?"

I thought about it for several seconds before I answered, "I guess maybe so."

"Why don't we go take care of it while the coffee is brewing?" he said.

"Okay." I agreed and started to turn but I'd not been paying attention this time and turned my upper body without turning my feet in the direction I wanted to go. I had a quick flash of pain that froze me to the spot.

"You okay?" dad asked, taking hold of both of my arms to support me.

"That was dumb!" I exclaimed.

"No it wasn't! You just moved wrong is all." Dad attempted to tweak my thinking.

"Yeah but it still hurt!" I countered.

"It looked like it! Your face went white as paper so fast I thought you were going to pass out on me." Dad said.

"I don't think I'm going to move like that again!" I said, which made dad laugh.

Bending down he scooped me up and cradled me in his arms. "I'd probably avoid it if I were you! It didn't look like a lot of fun."

He carried me back to my room, deposited me on my still unmade bed and was just reaching up to pull off my plastic pants when a twinge in my lower back told me that I was about to need to poop.

"Dad?" I said stopping him before he pulled them off, "I think I need to go number-two."

He surprised me by smiling, "If I get you out of this wet diaper can you hold it until you are sitting on the toilet?"

"Yeah, I think so." I answered.

He went ahead and pulled off my plastic pants and the stale smell of urine wafted into my nostrils. For some reason he had a little trouble getting the first safety pin opened, but after a couple seconds he got it and the other safety pin came right open. I helped him by lifting my bottom off the bed so that he could pull the wet diaper out from under me. My skin was quite damp and the coolness of the morning air caused goose bumps to creep across my skin.

"Cold?" he asked with a smirk. I nodded, wide-eyed.

He then picked me up again; I could have walked to the bathroom on my own but he seemed to want to carry me and I didn't have any qualms about letting him. In the bathroom he sat me on the toilet and asked, "You want to give me a shout when you are done and I'll come help you wipe?"

"Okay." I answered and I could feel the pressure quickly building. No sooner had he pulled the door closed behind him, than my bowels let loose like a cannon into the toilet bowl. I waited several minutes to be sure I was done and sure enough, I wasn't. I had two more eliminations before I'd finished. "I shouldn't have had all those hotdogs at my birthday party yesterday!" I thought out loud and made myself grin at the humor of it.

"DAD! I'M DONE!" I called out from our porcelain throne room and dad reappeared only seconds later.

"Woah! Son, I think something may have crawled up inside you last night and died!" dad joked as he covered his nose. I guess I was feeling a little uncomfortable about the situation and maybe a little humbled, too; maybe the combination of the two is what made me laugh, more so then what dad had said.

He had me standup, hold on to the sink and bend over so that he could wipe my bottom clean for me and when he was satisfied he'd got the job done, he flushed the toilet and gave my bare-bottom a swat.

"Hey! What was that for?" I jokingly complained.

"Pick something!" he joked back by pinching my ear.

"You ready now?" he asked.

"What for?" I asked stupidly.

"To go finish getting changed maybe?" He said giving me a soft thump on my forehead. "You can't go running around the house with that hanging out!" he pointed to my boyhood member and I blushed uncontrollably.

I laughed again while rubbing my forehead where he'd thumped me, "Oh yea!" and this time he let me walk back to my room with him right behind me.

I assumed the position on my bed with my legs spread while dad went to my dresser. "What'll it be this morning?" he asked.

Having not been given a choice since having had to be put back into diapers again, I didn't expect his question and it took me a moment to decide. "Disposable?" I said finally.

"Tough decision huh?" dad joked as he retrieved one of the diapers.

I watched him as he stood there with the diaper in his hand. He was looking around inside the drawer and seemed to be confused.

"What?" I asked.

"Where's your mom keep the wipes?" he asked.

"Oh, she just uses a warm wet washrag." I said finally understanding what he'd been looking for.

"Okay!" he said sliding the drawer closed, "In that case, I'll be right back!" and as he passed by my bed he dropped the still folded diaper on my face.

"Hey!" I complained and laughed at the same time.

He was back in no time with a dripping wet washrag; "I probably should have just threw you into the shower while I had you in there." He said as he started to place the washcloth against my skin.

"AAAAHHHH! DAD THAT IS COLD!" I screamed as the wet rag made contact with my boyhood jewels.

"Well I didn't want it to be hot and scald your skin!" he said in his defense.

"Yeah but did you have use only cold water?" I continued to complain.

Dad laughed, which made me think he'd done it on purpose just to make me scream. By the time he'd finished washing my front, and had lifted my right leg to wash my backside thoroughly, I was officially cold and shivering.

As he was lowering my leg back to the bed he asked, "Cold?"

I just glared at him without commenting.

"Right! Then let's get you rediapered and," he dropped the cold rag on my stomach just below where the tape around my ribs stopped.

"Dad!" I whined and he laughed harder this time. I took the washrag and tossed it at him but he caught it and set it on the floor.

I think I like having dad change me more then mom or Jamie. For one thing, I don't have to lift my own butt off the bed so he can slide the diaper under me. He just takes hold of my right ankle and lifts my leg and bottom off the bed with one hand and positions the diaper under with his other hand before lowering me back down onto it.

When he had the diaper taped on me he asked, "Do you want to wear plastic pants too?"

"So many questions!" I thought.

"Na, maybe just some shorts." I said.

"Actually, why don't we get you all the way dressed, then we can have our coffee and go out and get breakfast at McDonalds?" dad offered.

"Can we?" I asked surprised and excited at his offer.

"Sure, I've taken the day off from work today and McDonalds opens for breakfast at six-o'clock." Dad said and I looked over his shoulder to my alarm clock to see that it was almost 5:30 already.

"Can I drive?" I asked knowing he'd never allow me but I have a theory that if I ask him enough times, eventually I will wear him down and he'll say yes. So far, in all the years that I've asked, he's never said yes.

"Sure!" he said.

"REALLY?" I shouted.

"Sure, when you are sixteen!" he said straight faced.

"Ah dad!" I whined and he laughed.

So dad helped me to get dressed, tied both of my shoes for me and just as he were finishing he leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

"What was that for?" I asked rubbing his kiss off.

"Just because I love you." He said swatting my backside once again.

This time I followed him down the hall and back into the kitchen. The coffee was finished brewing and we both sat down at the table with our cups. We talked while we drank; he asked me what I thought about going back to school and I told him I was sort of starting to miss it, but I was also worried about someone accidentally bumping into me in the hallways. Then he started to ask harder questions; questions about Bull, Tater and the others as well as Peter and his friends. I found it really hard to talk about some of the stuff and when dad tried to get me to talk about what Tater and I'd done the night I had slept over at his and Mike's house I totally clammed up.

"I know it's embracing for you to talk about Simon, but I really wish you would." He said placing his hand over mine.

"I-I r-really d-d-don't w-want to." I stuttered so softly that it was barely audible at all.

"It's not your fault!" Dad said and I honestly didn't know what he meant, well not at first.

I looked up at him, I'd been staring down into my nearly empty coffee cup and trying desperately not to make eye contact. However, his last comment caught me off guard, I looked up from my cup and into his eyes, and that is when I saw that he was crying.

"Dad?" my voice broke, "Why are you crying?" I asked fighting against the lump that was forming in my own throat.

"Oh Simon! I am so very sorry! I just didn't have any idea! I would have done anything to protect you from it!" the tears were running down his cheeks and dripped off his chin.

I couldn't hold back anymore as my own tears burst from my eyes as if Hoover Dam had busted. I got up from my chair and he swept me into his arms and held me tightly as we sobbed together for what seemed like hours but was more like ten minutes.

When we both finally were able to stem the tides, he sat me on his knee with my head still resting on his shoulder and he started to tell me some really hard things. He told me that Bull, Tater and Two-Toe's were not going to be sent to the Military Academy as Mr. Freeman had hoped but were going to be charged as adults and more then likely would be going to prison for a long time. He also said that if, or when Runt comes out of his comma and recovers, he will likely be charged with attempted murder of a police officer along with all the other charges against him and the other boys.

If hearing that was not hard enough, he then told me that he'd spoke with his lawyer and he'd said that there was a good chance I might be brought up on charges too. His words scared me so badly that my tears instantly dried up and my body went ridged in my father's embrace. He went on to say that at the very least they might charge me with `Withholding evidence to a criminal investigation', which I didn't really fully understand but then he went on to explain to me just what I'd done wrong. As dad talked my tears began to flow again and my entire being became infused with a fear so strong that I thought I was going to die and without my knowing it, my bladder had let go and soaked my diaper. It wasn't until later when I was getting in the car to go to breakfast that I realized just how wet I really was.

Dad and I talked, well dad talked and I cried into his shirt for a lot longer then I think either of us expected. It was nearing seven when dad had me calmed down enough to get me to stop crying. He'd explained to me, that even if I were charged, his lawyer felt that I'd get nothing worse then probation. Then dad had to explain to me what probation was and how it worked.

As I sat there on his knee, I realized that I'd thoroughly soaked the right side of his shirt with my tears as well as dampening my own somewhat. Dad finally gave me a smile and said, "What say you and I go change our shirts, go get some breakfast and then go spend some time together today, just you and me?" he asked wiping my face with his hand.

I nodded but instead of getting off his lap I fell on his neck and hugged him with what little strength was left in my young body after having cried so hard for so long. He hugged me back for a good while before I got up from his lap and the two of us walked back to my room again.

With shirts changed, coats on and mom notified that we were going out together, we left the house and started getting in the car. At first I thought about getting in the backseat and lying down since I seem to get carsick really easy since getting all busted up. However, I didn't feel like being alone in the backseat and I ended up deciding to climb in the front-passenger-seat next to dad. No sooner had I sat down on the seat and felt my diaper squish a little under me than I realized just how wet I was. Dad started to buckle the safety belt around me when I said, "Uh oh!"

"What?" dad asked and I could tell from the look he had that he thought he'd accidentally bumped my ribs or hurt me somehow.

"I just realized ...," I said looking down at the crotch of my pants that were bulging in the front due to my diaper.

Dad's eyebrows rose in understanding, "Do we need to go back in and get you changed again?"

Now that would probably have been the best thing to do but honestly, now that I was fully dressed and in the car, I didn't want to have to go back into the house and start all over again.

"I think I'll be ok for a while?" I said in such a way as to hopefully, get him to agree.

"Are you sure?" dad asked.

I nodded even though I wasn't so sure.

Dad finished buckling me into the seat and closed my door, but instead of walking around to the driver's side of the car, he went back into the house and reemerged a few minutes later carrying a paper grocery sack with the top all rolled down. He went around to the trunk, opened it and put the sack in before closing the trunk again and joining me inside the car.

"What's in the bag?" I asked though I could already have guessed had I thought about it.

"Insurance!" dad said with a smile.

"Oh!" I said realizing just what he means, "Good idea!" I said and he started the car.

It was really a nice morning today and nearly all traces of the snow had melted away again. It was still a little cooler then it had been a week or so back but it wasn't so cold that I had to zip my coat shut.

I don't know why, but in the car the fear and dread I'd been feeling just sort of fell away. The two of us went to McDonalds and had our breakfast while sitting in the car. We then went to the Autobody Repair where mom's van had been towed to, to check on it. Dad said he was surprised they already had it on the lift and were working on it.

As we were getting ready to pull out of the parking lot of the Autobody Repair Shop dad's cell started to ring. It turned out to be his work and after he got off the phone he said, "Mind if we make a quick stop by my office?"

"Not at all!" I said, "Can I come in and say hi to everyone?"

"I think they'd be offended if you didn't!" dad joked and slapped my thigh but not so hard that it hurt, just somewhat in jest.

At the office, people kept asking to see my taped up ribs but I knew if I lifted up my shirt then they'd see, not just my ribs, but also the diaper I was wearing. The diaper stuck out of the top of my pants several inches and there was no way I wanted all those ladies to know I was wearing diapers! So to compromise I just unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shift and pulled it open. All the ladies in the office were saying stuff like, "Oh you poor dear!" or "You are just so brave!" and my personal favorite, "But you're still just a baby!" A couple of them seemed to feel it important to bend down and kiss my bad eye that really wasn't bad anymore, it was just yellow with a hunt of black in the corner next to my nose.

I managed to find dad, who had-after we got out of the elevator-abandoned me to all those gushing women; he was sitting at his desk and talking with someone on the phone. Whoever was on the other end of the phone, must have really screwed up something `cause dad sounded like he was about to jump into the phone and throttle them.

It was maybe another ten minutes before dad finally got off the phone. "Sorry about that." He said to me while hanging up the phone.

I only smiled back to let him know that I didn't mind waiting. However, I was a bit concerned that those women might find me and want to pinch my cheeks some more.

"You want to do me a huge favor?" Dad asked.

"Sure!" had I been able too, I would have jumped to my feet excitedly ready to do whatever he asked.

Dad reached out an overstuffed manila envelope that was held together with crisscrossing rubber bands. "Can up take this up to the fourth floor for me?"

I took the bundle of papers from him and asked, "Where at on four?" I'd been up there before when he'd brought me to work with him.

"When you get out of the elevator, go straight ahead down the hallway until you reach the other elevators and then turn right. John Kutter is in the last cubical on the right. Got it?"

"Got it!" I said and took off for the elevators. I was just about to press the button to call the elevator to dad's floor when someone behind me, it was a ladies voice, called my name.

"Simon?"

Not thinking anyone would be calling for me, and that there must be someone else on the floor with my name I didn't bother to turn to see who it was.

"Hey Simon!" the voice called again and this time I went ahead and looked. I recognized the ladies face but for the life of me, I had no idea what her name might be or why I knew her. Without saying anything, I pointed to myself as if to ask if I was the one she was calling for.

"Well of course you! Come here! I've not seen you in so long!" I walked over to where she and another lady were standing.

"Hello!" I said trying to be polite and to not show my ignorance at not knowing who she was.

"You have grown so much!" she gushed and then turned to the other lady, "This is Simon Leonard's son."

"Oh my goodness! You mean this is little Simon? Why he looks just like his daddy!" the other lady said and the way the two of them talked it reminded me of the way Mike's mom talked to me, like she was trying to shower sweetness on me through words.

The two ladies continued to gush over me for a couple more minutes before I said, "Um, I'm sorry but I got to get these up to Mr. Kutter right away!"

"Oh yes, you run along!" The first lady said with a dismissing wave of her hand and I didn't wait around for anything else to be said. I got back to the elevator; hit the button and much to my relief it opened right up.

I got to Mr. Kutter's cubical without any more delays and I apologized for taking so long. I explained to him about the two ladies, which made him laugh and say, "You have to watch out; there are some seriously man-hungry ladies that work in this office building."

I smiled politely but, inside my head, I had the vision of those ladies trying to roast me like a pig!

"If you can hang on for a minute I'll walk you back down so you won't get waylaid again." Mr. Kutter offered.

"I'd like that very much!" I said realizing that I sounded like I was scared of being someone's lunch.

Mr. Kutter laughed at my comment. "I need to get up and stretch my legs anyway." He said as he opened the overstuffed folder I'd brought to him and began riffling through the papers until he found what he must have wanted. He made one quick phone call before handing the folder back to me and walking me back to the elevator. We talked about my school as we waited for the elevator until two other men I didn't know came up behind us and were talking loud enough that we could hear them.

"There are three missing now?" one of the men asked quite strongly.

"And with absolutely no trace whatsoever!" The other man said.

Mr. Kutter turned around and asked, "You talking about the missing children?"

At his question, I too turned to face the men.

"Oh hi John! I didn't realize that was you standing there." The man on my right said as he reached out to shake Mr. Kutter's hand. "And is this your new assistant?" he smiled wider and extended his hand for me to shake, which I politely did and then shook the other mans hand as well.

"Nah." Mr. Kutter said patting me on the back, "This here's Simon. He's Simon Leonard's boy from downstairs."

"Oh yeah! How is your old man? Hardly see him anymore since he moved down there!" the second man said. I couldn't help but take offence with him calling my dad an old man, but I didn't have to answer as Mr. Kutter did it for me.

"Oh he's doing great! Really great!" and then restated his previous question, "So were you talking about those missing kids?"

"Oh yeah! I just heard on the radio that a third boy came up missing this morning." The first man said.

Mr. Kutter put his hand to his chest and looked genuinely disturbed at this news. I on the other hand was thinking about the conversation that I had overheard yesterday morning when mom, dad, Jamie and I had gone to the IHOP for breakfast. I'd heard someone saying something about someone being kidnapped and now it seemed there had been two more kidnappings since then.

The elevator door opened and the four of us got in. The three men continued to talk about the missing kids and I found out that all three were young boys, one was 10-years-old and the other two were both 11-years-old. I stayed quiet and listened unfortunately the two men were going all the way to the basement, so Mr. Kutter and I got off on dad's floor and managed to meet dad just around the corner.

"Hi dad!" I said nearly running into him as I turned the corner.

"Oh hello John!" dad said to Mr. Kutter, "Did you find what you needed in there?" dad motioned to the folder I was still clutching to my chest.

"Yes and thank you very much for sending Simon up with it!" Mr. Kutter was saying as he looked down at me, "I was just walking him back down to you so that he didn't get caught and coddled by any more women."

Dad looked down at me and chuckled, "Oh is that what took so long?"

"Some lady saw me and knew me, but I don't know who she was!" I said animatedly.

Dad took the folder from me, "Uh, red hair and painted on eyebrows?" he asked.

"Yeah!? How'd you know?" I asked in complete astonishment.

Dad only chuckled again along with Mr. Kutter this time.

"Well, if you both will excuse me, I have a meeting in a few minutes." Mr. Kutter said looking at his watch.

"Right and I need to get out of here before they end up keeping me all day!" dad said shaking Mr. Kutter's hand.

Mr. Kutter shook my hand too; "You take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yes sir!" I answered.

Dad and I walked back to his office where he dropped the folder on his desk and grabbed our coats so we could make our escape. Unfortunately, it took another ten minutes just to get off the floor as people kept stopping us to say hello and ask dad questions about work related stuff.

As we were riding down in the elevator I felt the need to pee and before I could acknowledge it in my own mind I found myself already rewetting my diaper. I reached out and took dad's hand to get his attention. He looked down at me with a smile, "I think I'm going to need the insurance." I whispered as if we were not alone in the elevator.

Dad was really cool about it. He squeezed my hand reassuringly and asked, "Okay, can you wait a little longer?" I nodded that I could rather then risk replying audibly.

I actually thought we might get out of the building without getting stopped again, but just as dad was about to push open the big glass door someone, sounding urgent, called out from across the foyer, "Hey Leonard!"

Dad and I both turned to see who'd called out our last name. A slightly overweight man with jet back hair and a bushy mustache like you might see bikers wearing was half-walking and half-running to catch up to us from the other side of the foyer.

"Wait up!" He called as he slowed to a fast walk when he'd realized we'd seen him.

"Oh hi Jim!" Dad said extending his hand to the man that was breathing a little hard. I could tell that his little jog across the foyer was probably the most exercise he'd had in years.

"I'm glad I was able to catch you before you left!" Jim said not bothering to take dad's extended hand. The moment was kind of awkward for about three seconds until the man then said, "I just wanted to thank you and your fine son here!" He motioned to me with a swing of his left hand and I nearly had to step back to not have him hit me in the face but I don't think dad noticed.

Dad dropped his hand finally, "So what's so urgent?" dad asked and his concern was showing on his face.

"Well, it seems your son here has single handedly destroyed any chance my son has at getting a football scholarship this year!" the man said with his face begging to turn red with anger.

Instantly, dad and I both knew what he was talking about. With the gentle directing of dad's left hand he moved me so that he was now standing between the angry fat man and me.

"Jim, can we talk about this somewhere else?" dad said calmly.

The man, now nearly shouting, said, "What the fuck was your kid thinking?"

Dad took a step back into me and I had to step back myself so as not to be stepped on. In a whirlwind of blue uniforms two security guards came from out of nowhere and had stepped between dad and the big man dad had called Jim.

There was a bunch of shouting and cursing, which Jim was doing all of as dad and the two security guards were trying to calm the guy down. He kept saying stuff about me, and about how I destroyed any change the Panthers had at going to the championships this year. He also said something that I didn't understand until later when dad explained it to me. He said something about how I'd lied about their coach and that he'd never have been mixed up in anything illegal.

Later, dad explained that Jasper and Bull's father, who was also the high school football Coach had been arrested Sunday night at his home for trafficking in illegal sports enhancing drugs. However, dad told me that it wasn't my fault that he was arrested as the news had said that police had been investigating him for over a month in this matter.

After a while the two security guards had been joined by two others, a plump, squat woman that looked like she could kill a bear with a single punch and a totally bald man with big black 70's style eyeglasses. The four of them were able to get the big guy, Jim, calmed down and taken elsewhere. Two police officers showed up a short time later, I supposed security had called them and they wanted to know if dad wanted to press charges against Jim for assault. That was when I found out that Jim had taken a swing at dad, but dad had stepped back into me and Jim had missed him.

"No, I don't think so." Dad said, "He's just upset right now. I'm sure in a few days he'll calm down and regret all this."

I was both surprised to hear dad say that and a little proud at how cool he was despite everything. From the time we'd come out of the elevator until we finally got back into the car was just over a half-hour. Both dad and I had forgot about the condition of my diaper as we sat in the van and dad explained to me about Jasper's father, how he had been arrested and why Jim had reacted the way he had inside.

Honestly, the confrontation with Jim was probably a good thing, because he woke me up and made me aware that more then likely there were going to be people that were not going to understand what Bull, Tater, Runt and Two-Toes as well as there coach had done was so very bad. Sports fans can be nuts when it comes to there favorite teams.

I remember a couple years ago when dad, mom and I had gone to a professional football game. We ended up leaving the stadium before the first half was over. One of the referees had made some call that the fans didn't like and they got rude! They were cursing and carrying on, throwing stuff onto the field and just being plain stupid! So dad got us out of there really fast! On the news that night they'd said that the game had been ended when fans started fighting with one another in the stands.

Dad said one thing that I think scared me more then Jim had, "Simon, I think for a while, you'd better plan on staying close to home. I don't want you going anywhere without your mother or me with you. At least until this all blows over, okay?"

I told him I would, but inside I was thinking that once we got back home, I wasn't going to come out of my room ever again!

Dad started the car and the clock on the car radio came on telling us that it was after ten in the morning. "Well that's one good thing; we still have about forty-five minutes until your doctor's appointment." Dad had said.

"I didn't know I had to go to the doctor today!" I said with a hint of fear in my voice.

"It's okay! It's just a checkup to see how you are healing." Dad reassured me by petting my hair.

"They better not give me any more shots!" I threatened.

I expected dad to say that they wouldn't but he only smiled, put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space.

When we headed in the opposite direction of the hospital I got confused, "Aren't we going to the hospital?" I asked.

"Oh sorry, you're appointment is with your regular doctor!" dad said.

"Oh no!" I groaned.

"What?" dad asked.

"He always gives me shots or makes me take nasty medicine!" I complained.

"You know, I think there is some kind of law that says that medicine has to hurt, taste really bad or smell even worse." Dad joked.

"It's not funny!" I continued to complain. "I think he does it on purpose!"

Dad flipped on his turn signal and in a bad impression of an old guy, said said; "That's okay! It builds character!"

PART 2 -- Knighthood and the dawning of the armor!

So I decided to play along with him by saying; "But I got all the character I need!"

"You know in my day, medicine always tasted like FEET!" Dad continued his old man skit.

I laughed, "Feet?"

"Yes, feet! And we were thankful to have it! That's the problem with you young w-w-whippersnappers! You want everything to taste like candy. Well, feet can be good for you too!" Dad licked his lips as if salivating over a nice juicy burger. "Mmmm, I could go for a nice foot right about now!"

I sat in the passenger seat trying not to laugh, but only causing myself to giggle all that much more. "You know something Dad?"

"Huh? What? Who said that?" he said, still playing.

Talking really loud, as if I were talking to a nearly deaf man, I shouted, "I SAID YOU OLD PEOPLE SMELL LIKE MOLDY CHEESE!"

That did the trick; Dad started laughing so hard he was thumping the steering wheel with his hand to try to regain his composure.

"You're insane!" I said to him, while trying not to look at him.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the doctor's office, there were only two cars there. "Looks like we got here before the rush!" Dad said, but there was something about the way he said it, that made me think there was something else he wasn't telling me.

Reaching down to unbuckle myself, I again became aware of the condition of my diaper. "Um, Dad?"

"Yes you have to go in!" he said, before I could say anything else.

"No, not that! That's not what I was going to say." I said.

He looked at me as he asked with a half grin and one cocked eyebrow, "What, then?"

Trying to impersonate him doing the impersonation of the old man I said, "I think someone left a present in my pants for you!"

He gave the back of my head a playful whack with his hand; "I'll give you a present!" he said. Without missing a beat, I countered with; "CAN I HAVE A PONY?"

Dad only shook his head, as if disgusted with me, and I laughed knowing I bested him ... this one time at least! He climbed out of the car and just as I was closing my door, he came from around the backside of the car where he was shutting the trunk.

I saw that he had the brown paper grocery sack in his hand and started to ask, "Out here?" but I quickly thought about it before I said it and almost caused myself to laugh again.

"Of course not out here Simon, you ditz!" I thought to myself.

We walked in the front door of the doctor's office and sure enough the waiting room was empty. Dad went up to the nurse at the front desk and spoke with her before turning to me and saying; "Go with her!" as he handed her the bag.

I knew my emotions were right there on my face, but I still had to say it, "But Dad?" as my eyes bounced between him, the nurse, and the sack. I knew he meant for her to take me back and change my wet diaper. Even though I had Nurse Gabby and Nurse Bridget change my diapers in the hospital, I had absolutely no desire to have this strange lady, even if she was a nurse, see me naked, let alone in a diaper!

Dad smiled and said, "It's OK! She's a nurse and she's probably seen more ..." he stumbled for an appropriate word, "boys than you could count."

Just having him say those few words caused me to blush so red that I thought my face would explode.

Reaching out a hand to me she said, "Come on Simon! I promise I won't bite, unless you want me to!"

Reluctantly, I took her hand and she led me back to one of the examination rooms. I glanced back to Dad once more as we left the waiting room for reassurance, but he wasn't looking my way anymore. He was standing, looking out the large front wall of glass.

"Can you hop up here by yourself?" she asked, patting the examination table with her hand.

Without speaking and feeling about as bashful as a little lost lamb, I gently nodded my head but didn't move. Again she took my hand, pulled me two steps forward, and helped me up onto the table.

"There we go!" she said, as I sat my wet and squishing bottom down on what I was sure was a very cold table.

With no further directing from her, I leaned myself over onto my elbow and lowered myself down until I was lying on my back. I'd got good at doing this without hurting my ribs, and as soon as I was settled she reached out and started removing my pants. While she worked to get my belt unbuckled, and my pants unsnapped, I stared at the ceiling and counted the ceiling tiles over and over again.

Twelve full tiles and three partial tiles. Four down, three and a part of one across. Over and over I counted, and figured the patterns in my head.

When I felt her tugging at my pants I started to lift my backside instinctively, but she placed a hand on my belly to keep me from moving. "Did she think I was going to try to run off or something?" I thought.

Now she didn't look to be a very strong woman, but when she reached down with one hand and took hold of, not just one ankle but both of them and lifted them into the air until my backside was completely off the table, I nearly swallowed my tongue in amazement! With her one free hand she pulled my pants down to my knees, and then lowered my legs again, before working my pants on down to my ankles.

As she lifted the front of my shirt to get at my diaper she said; "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had sore ribs, did I hurt you at all?"

I couldn't have talked if I wanted too, so I just shook my head from side-to-side and let her get on with the task at hand.

"OK then, but if you feel any discomfort, you let me know, OK?" she said, and I nodded this time.

As she pulled at each tape, it was like someone was holding a microphone next to my diaper, amplifying the sound of the tapes. RIP -- RIP -- RIP -- RIP! Just then, the one thing I'd feared started to happen, and no matter how hard I tried to think of unpleasant things, it just didn't help. I felt the stirring in my boyhood region like never before, and when she pulled my diaper open and the cool air hit my very moist skin, little Simon popped out and stood there as if to say, "GOOD MORNING! IS EVERYONE UP?"

I could feel my face sizzling with the heat of my embarrassment. I closed my eyes as tight as I could, hoping that by doing so, she might vanish, but she didn't. I felt her take hold of my ankles again, lift my bottom into the air, and snatch the wet diaper out from under me. However, this time she kept me dangling there, and I could feel little Simon poking at my stomach as if saying, "Hey! You there! Boy! Why are you ignoring me? Come on let's get a GRIP here, what do you say?"

I actually heard a voice inside my head shout down at him, "Will you please just shut up and go back to sleep?"

Of course, that just started an argument, "Well, how dare you tell me to shut up! Do you know who you're fooling with? Oh wait! That's the problem, YOUR NOT FOOLING WITH ME AT ALL! PLEASE, PLEASE PLAY WITH!" little Simon screamed.

"Oh for the love of ... can't you just wait?" the voice in my head cried down to little Simon.

"Do I look like I can wait? You know, if you weren't going to play with me then you shouldn't have let her wake me up!" little Simon seethed.

"I didn't have anything to do with it! And anyway, if you'd stop peeing when I'm not ready, maybe I could get to a toilet and we'd not need someone to change me and end up seeing you!" the voice in my head barked.

"Oh, oh I see! This is all my fault! Oh, okay well then maybe I should just take care of things myself? Hummm?" Little Simon said.

"Oh no you don't!" The voice shouted back.

"Hey! What's going on? Who turned off the lights? Wait, stop I'm not finished yet!" Little Simon tried to scream out, and suddenly I realized that the nurse was tapping the last tape on a fresh diaper into place.

"There we go. How's that?" she asked.

"Better, thanks!" I heard my own voice answer.

From inside the diaper I heard, "Let me out of here at once!"

"Here let me help you back up," the nurse said as she helped me to sit up, and then to stand next to the examination table. She reached down and pulled my pants up. I didn't bother to tuck my shirt in `cause I knew the doctor was just going to make me take it off when he came in. No sooner had I thought it, there was a knock at the door, and in came the doctor.

"Well, hello Simon! Oh my, that eye sure has healed up nicely!" said the doctor.

"Good morning sir!" I answered back, trying to get my belt buckled quickly.

"Oh, you might as well wait on that, I'm going to need to check you out anyway." He said.

"Let's get you back up on the table." The nurse said, helping me a little.

He came over as she stepped back, "Let's take a look at them ribs, huh?" he said, and then started removing my shirt.

"Wow, that's a lot of tape!" he exclaimed.

"I kept coming unbound, so both Mom and Dad both kept adding more tape to keep me from unraveling." I said, and the doctor chuckled.

"What say we take this all off so that we can get a good look at ya?" he said, and I wasn't sure if he was asking me if it was okay with me or not.

"Is it going to hurt?" I asked, knowing that my fear was very apparent as my voice broke and cracked.

The doctor, sensing my reluctance took half a step back, put a finger under my chin and said; "I imagine you have just about had your fill of pain recently, huh?"

Nodding my head I said, "Yes sir!"

Still smiling he added, "I'll tell you what, after we get this tape off of you today, then I promise that I won't hurt you anymore, okay?"

I didn't answer him. I might only be 12-years-old, but I'm not stupid! I know in his backwards way, he'd just told me that it was going to hurt. Probably a lot too!

"You want your Dad to come in and be with you while we get you fixed up?" he asked. I only nodded that I did.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea." He said toward the nurse who promptly left the room only to return a minute later with Dad in tow.

Upon seeing Dad come in, and without realizing I was saying it, I said, "Dad! He wants to take off the tape!" Even though I'd not wanted too, tears began to well up in my eyes.

The doctor, who had been reading over something from my medical folder, looked up at the nurse and asked for something that I didn't understand. She slipped back out again as Dad came over and held my hand for me.

"You going to be brave for me?" Dad asked.

I shook my head no, which made Dad chuckle.

"Least he's honest!" the doctor said with a smile and a shrug.

"Simon, would you like to know how I'm going to do it, or do you just want me to do it and get it over with?" The doctor asked, but I had been given plenty of time to get good and scared; so scared that talking was impossible.

I looked up at Dad longingly and he answered for me. "Why don't you tell us what you're going to do, that way there's no surprises."

"I think that's probably best." The doctor said, then went on to explain, "Probably the first bit will be the worst. I'll start right about here." He reached around behind me and touched the spot between my shoulder blades. "Just about where your angel wings would be attached, had you not lost them when you were two." He tried to lighten my mood and Dad added. "Yeah, and became a little devil!" They both chuckled. I didn't.

Realizing I was really wound up, the doctor pulled down on the knot of his tie, with the flip of two fingers, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and said; "See all that white hair on my chest?"

His action took me off guard. Probably exactly the reaction he'd hoped for, I'd imagine.

"Yeah." I answered softly.

He then picked up my left hand and set it on my chest just above the tape, "Feel that?"

I nodded but didn't have the slightest idea where he was going with this.

"If you had hair like me? Then it would really hurt to have that tape," he tapped my chest, "taken off. But since you don't have a layer of heavy fur, it shouldn't hurt much at all."

Okay, I admit, it was a really good try on his part to alleviate some of my fears, but I'd had too many scrapped knees, elbows, chins and various other parts of my extremities covered with a Band-Aid. I remembered all to well just how much it hurt to have the Band-Aid removed.

"Can't I just go home and soak in the bathtub till it comes off?" I whimpered.

"That might have worked had you only a single layer," he glanced at Dad, "but with all this tape, you'd surely shrivel up like a raisin before the tape would come off."

I snickered. I actually snickered at a thought that flashed in my head for only a millisecond. Dad squeezed my hand, "What?"

I snickered again before looking the doctor in the eye and softly saying, "I happen to like raisins, and don't call me Shirley."

Dad jovially thumped the back of my head again as he and the doctor laughed. A couple seconds later the nurse came in with her arms full of stuff and sat it all down on the little metal tray. I recognized the bottle of rubbing alcohol, medical scissors, and those medical things that look like a cross between skinny pliers and scissors.

"Are you able to lie on your tummy at all?" the doctor asked.

I shook my head wildly from side to side.

"Okay then, how about spinning around so that I can start on your back then?" he asked, and I complied with a little help from Dad. Since my pants were not fastened, as I spun on the table, I nearly came back out of them again. No one seemed to care too much, and since I was well past scared and approaching horrified, I didn't much care either.

"I'm going to start by trying to pour a little of this alcohol down inside the tape. It's probably going to feel cold, but it won't hurt at all." the doctor said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the nurse pick up something silver.

"What's that?" I nearly screamed, and tried to turn to get away, but in my fearful haste all I managed to do was cause myself quite a bit of pain.

Dad moved around so that he was standing directly in front of me and was kind of squished between the exam table and the wall behind him. He pulled my head forward to rest it on his chest and held it there with one hand, while his other held my left bicep very tightly.

"You are going to be okay Son! I got ya!" Dad spoke softly and yet with confidence that seemed to flow through his chest and into my forehead.

The nurse held the silver object out so that I could see it, and I saw that it was them pliers-scissor things I'd seen earlier. "These are just so that we can clamp them on the tape to get a better grip." She said soft and pleasant.

"Okay, here comes the alcohol." The doctor said and he was right, it was cold and I could feel it trickling all the way down my spine and into the back of my diaper. It found its way down my butt rack and tickled more than a little.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry!" the doctor said.

"I'm going to cut the tape down along your spine, if it hurts at all you tell me and I will stop. Okay?"

"Okay!" I moaned, as I pressed my face harder into Dad's chest.

I felt him begin cutting, but aside from just a tiny bit of pulling it didn't hurt at all. Yet!

"You doing okay, Simon?" the nurse asked.

"Yeah!" I grunted, fully expecting the pain to start at any second.

"Almost all the way down a—n—d that is it!" he said, dragging out the `and' as he made the last cut.

"I think we might get lucky, Simon!" the doctor said.

"Huh?" I grunted again.

"It looks like most of the inner layer is already loose from your skin back here." He said as I felt him pull.

"Oh yeah, I've nearly got your back completely open." He was saying, just as a section of the tape, just over my right buttocks gave me a twinge.

"Ooowww!" I screeched and grabbed hold of the sides of Dad's shirt for something to squeeze.

"Sorry, that was some of the newer tape. It was still holding well." The doctor said and then asked, "I need you to raise your right arm for me."

Dad took my arm and laid my hand on his shoulder, "You can hold on here." He said, allowing me to grasp his shirt just beside collar.

"This is stuck pretty well; I think I'll need to try rubbing him down with alcohol on some gauze as I pull." I heard the doctor say, but I think he was talking to the nurse and not me. I couldn't tell for sure because I again had my face buried in Dad's chest, waiting for the worst.

"Okay, here comes the cold alcohol again!" the doctor said.

It wasn't so bad this time, since I knew what to expect. Actually, him rubbing my side with the gauze the way he did tickled me more than anything else.

"That tickle?" he chuckled.

"Lit-TLE!" I started to say, just as it really tickled.

"Sorry! But tickling is better than pain, right?" he asked.

I shook my head in disagreement.

"Don't like the tickling either, huh? Well you're a hard one to please." He continued his attempts at humoring me.

"Okay, I'm going to try to pull a little; you tell me if it hurts!" I felt him apply gentle pressure, which hurt, but not too much.

"That hurt?" he asked.

I shook my head from side to side a little.

"Just let me know..." he started to say, but I suddenly jumped.

"THAT HURT!" I said, trying to pull away from Dad, but he held me even tighter.

"I'm sorry, Simon. The sides seem to be holding a lot better than the back did.

"Don't do no more!" I begged, only just realizing for myself that I was crying into Dad's shirt.

Ignoring my pleading, the doctor said, "Just a little more, I just about have all this side off."

Dad moved his hand that he'd been using to hold my head so that he was now covering my right ear. I couldn't hear what he said, but I did know he said something and suddenly the doctor just started pulling on the tape. I was screaming and clawing at Dad to try to get away, but he had such a firm grip on me that all I could do was scream and wiggle a little.

"AAAAAHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOO!!!! Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad!" I screamed and cried.

Talking over my crying, the doctor said, "All done now Simon! I'll let you rest a bit before we try the other side."

Dad loosened his grip on me, but only enough to allow me to relax. Not enough to let me attempt any escape.

"Dad, no more! Don't let him!" I sobbed into his shirt.

"Sshhh!" he hushed my crying, "I know it hurts, I know! But in a little while, you will be all done."

"No, please!" I cried and rubbed my eyes with his shirt.

"Can you call Doctor Zuligram and see if he can come down and fit Simon here for an upper torso plate guard?" I heard the doctor telling the nurse, but only about half, so I didn't fully understand it until later.

"I'll be right back," he said to Dad and me.

Dad continued to hush and calm me back down, until he was able to release me from his firm embrace. "You doing alright there, sport?" he asked, while wiping my face.

"I don't want to do anymore!" I sniffled.

"I know you don't, but you have to." He said softly.

I shook my head only a little, and wimpered very softly, "No" but he didn't bother to reply.

We didn't talk anymore for the rest of the time we were alone. After about ten minutes, though I really wasn't aware of the passage of time, the doctor came back in without the nurse.

"Ready to finish up?" he asked, clapping his hands together. For a second, I started to think that maybe he was going to try to do it alone, but then the nurse came in behind him.

I shook my head no, but at the same time Dad said, "Yes, I think we are." I looked up at him with contempt, but he just smiled.

I cannot put into words how relieved I was that the tape came off my left side with almost no pain at all. Now getting it off my front proved to be both easy and painful. Over my chest the tape wasn't hardly attached to me anymore, but on my belly it sure was. At least I was able to lay down for that part, and the doctor gave me a bubblegum flavored thing to bite down on for that part which actually helped to a small extent.

I was so relieved when the last of the tape came off and the doctor said he wasn't going to replace it. I don't think I could go through that again. He removed the bubblegum flavored bite block before giving me a nearly full checkup. He looked down my throat and in my ears and nose. Tapped on my knees with a little rubber hammer and everything thing else I'd expected him to do. I was, however, very relieved when he didn't ask to get into my diaper that his nurse had put on me when I'd arrived. He said he liked the way I was healing up and that he might let me go back to school next week, but I'd have to come see him again on Friday to get checked out yet again. If he still likes what he sees, he'll give me a note saying I was allowed to go back to school. He also said that I'm not allowed to do any sports or anything whatsoever that could potentially re-injure my ribs. He didn't go into details, so I guess that left room for interpretation.

Now for some reason, when he said that I could go back to school, instead of getting excited about the idea, as I thought I should have, I suddenly got worried! I mean not cause of my ribs, but because of ... well what if I need to go number two at school? How am I supposed to wipe when I can't even reach my own backside?

I continued thinking those things over as the doctor was talking with Dad about something that sounded technical. I'd not been paying much attention, so when this little short black man with salt and pepper hair and funny little goatee walked in, I was both surprise and embarrassed.

"Oh, there you are!" my doctor said shaking this new doctor's hand. "This here is Mr. Simon Leonard and his son, Little Simon Leonard Junior.

"I am so very pleased to meet you!" The short black man extended his hand to Dad, "I am Doctor David Zuligram." He took my hand after releasing dads, and shook it vigorously. I became aware of the fact that I was sitting there with no clothes on except the diaper, since my doctor had gone ahead and removed my pants to examine me. I remember thinking, as I sat there, embarrassed to have this strange man seeing me like this, that I would have rather he'd seen me nude, than wearing nothing but a diaper. But Doctor Zuligram didn't even seem to notice the fact that a 12-year-old boy was laying there wearing a diaper.

"Would you mind if I examined your son?" he asked Dad, and I couldn't figure what his accent was, but it was obvious that English wasn't his first language. His voice was kind of high, I mean higher than you'd expect for a grown man, and when he talked, his goatee would twitch and dance on his chin almost hypnotically.

My doctor spoke up and directed his comments more to Dad and less to me, "I would like to have Doctor Zuligram here fit Simon for an Upper-Torso Plate Guard; one that will fully support and protect his ribs while they continue to heal."

Dad had motioned for Doctor Zuligram to examine me, which he had started to do while my doctor was explaining the Chest Plate to Dad. One thing I liked about Doctor Zuligram, is that before he touched me, he rubbed his hands together vigorously for several seconds to warm them, and his touch was so gentle and soft, that it didn't hurt; not even a tiny bit.

"Can you lift your arms up for me?" he asked me, and Dad reached each of my arms and lifted them to about my shoulder height for me.

"Does it hurt you when you lift your arms up on your own?" he asked.

"Sometimes, if I raise them too high or too fast." I answered.

"Yes, I imagined so." Doctor Zuligram said, as he checked each side of my ribs before turning to my doctor.

"I believe he'd do very well with a plate, but I believe he should," and as he explained he turned back to me and pointed out, "have one that encases this region," his fingers brushed my left side, just behind my elbow, and it tickled so much that I jumped a little.

"Oh my! I am so very sorry! Did I hurt you?" Doctor Zuligram asked.

"No that tickled!" I said with a smile.

"Oh! I am so very sorry." He apologized with his own smile. He continued to explain; "I also think that young Mr. Simon here would do well with a second Plate that would cover this region." He ran his fingers around my back as if drawing an image for Dad and my doctor to see.

I really liked Doctor Zuligram. He took the time to explain everything about the plate; how he'd make it, and how it would fit on me. He said, "You should be able to do all the things you normally would do, within reason, and it will keep you from bending in such a way as to separate one of your ribs while it is trying to heal.

"How long will it take to make?" I asked.

"Oh not long, about twenty minutes." Doctor Zuligram answered.

Right then, the nurse came back into the room, which surprised me because I'd not even realized she'd left the room. Also, when she opened the door, I could hear someone crying softly from elsewhere in the office. She didn't get to come in very far; with three adults and me previously in the room it was already full. She only took a single step in and began talking to my doctor, who then excused himself and left just Dad and me with Doctor Zuligram. The nurse had said something about a Fractured Clav-something. I didn't know what that was, but after the nurse and my doctor left, I asked Doctor Zuligram what it was. He explained that `Clavicle' was the medical term for the collarbone, and he showed me where both of mine were located.

"I bet that hurts!" Dad said, and Doctor Zuligram smiled and said, "Sounded like it, did it not?

Right at that second, I figured out who Doctor Zuligram sounded like, and why his accent sounded both odd and familiar. He sounded exactly like the lobster-like alien, Doctor Zoidberg on the cartoon Futurama.

"Hey! You sound just like that Doctor Alien on Futurama!" I said.

"What? You mean the great Doctor Zoidberg?" Doctor Zuligram said, raising a single finger triumphantly into the air.

"You watch that, too?" I asked, quite surprised that he knew who I meant.

"Just between you and me? I think he's a better doctor than I am!" he said, and I laughed until it hit me what he just said.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, and both he and Dad laughed.

"What say we get you fitted, so I can go have my lunch?" he asked. Now that I had made the connection in my head between him and the alien, every word he said just made me want to laugh.

Doctor Zuligram left Dad and I alone for only a few minutes before another nurse came in, She asked a couple of questions about stuff I might be allergic to, and after Dad answered, she left again, only to return about five minutes later with Doctor Zuligram who was carrying a fair-sized, green and white box.

Doctor Zuligram looked at me, smiled, and said to the nurse, "Okay nurse, I'll need a chain saw and a Band-Aid."

Dad chuckled, but I laughed nervously. Not about the chain saw, but because I didn't know what was in the box.

"W-what's in the b-box?" I asked.

"What this? It's my lunch!" Doctor Zuligram said, clutching the box protectively. "No, actually this is going to be your new ..." he used a word that I neither understood nor can remember now. He must have realized that I didn't understand, because he then said, "Body armor?" as if he were asking me if I understood that.

I nodded that I did understood `body armor,' and he started to pull out a flesh colored piece of plastic, and then another that was smaller and shaped quite different. He held the larger part up under my chin and explained that he'd warm it up, and then form it to fit me perfectly. And he did just as he described, and after only a few minutes, he was done. It fit like a second skin, like `body armor' almost. The front piece went under my arms to totally encase my ribs, and went up over my shoulders. It was then attached with Velcro straps to the back piece, which enveloped my back as well.

Dad wrapped on the front over my chest with his knuckle, "It's kind of like a plastic version of what knights used to wear."

I ran my fingers over it, "Yeah, it does!" and I gave it a thump. "I didn't hardly feel that!" I announced.

"You look good enough to eat!" Doctor Zuligram joked, and sounded even more like Doctor Zoidberg.

"Did anybody else ever think you sound like that alien?" I asked feeling very pleased with my new body armor.

He smiled with a glance up to the nurse, "Maybe one or two I think?"

"I'm not saying anything!" the nurse threw her hands up in defense and gave me a wink.

After Doctor Zuligram explained to Dad and me how to care for, and live with, my new protective plate, he again shook our hands and left us. The nurse then helped me to get dressed, and I found getting off the table was a little difficult.

"I'm going to have to learn how to move around with this on." I told them both.

"In a day or two you will forget you even have it on." The nurse said, pulling my pants up over my diaper and fastening them for me.

My doctor came back in as she was helping me pull my shirt over my head.

"Oh yes, that looks very nice indeed!" He to gave my chest a thump with his knuckle!

"I think you will find that you will be a lot more comfortable wearing this instead of that tape! You can take it off to bathe, but I'd like you to wear it all the rest of the time, even when you sleep." He instructed.

It took about another ten minutes or so before we were done and ready to leave. The first nurse had returned with a handful of things for Dad, along with written instructions.

"See you on Friday?" I asked, seeing my doctor at the end of the hall.

"Yes! On Friday! Now go get some ice cream! Doctors orders!" he announced back, and I looked up at Dad.

"You heard him! I got to go have ICE CREAM!!!" I nearly shouted.

Dad laughed, and we both walked out of the doctor's office and headed for our car.

PART 3 -- Runt, Tobor, Pen and Paper

After we pulled out of the parking lot dad drove straight to Dairy Queen, which was less then a block from the doctor's office and where I made a serious pig of myself. I had a Foot long Coney Dog with all the fixings, a large root beer and ... by the way, whoever it was that said that food can't fix anything, never had a three topping banana split with extra cherries, nuts and whipped cream. Trust me, it made everything better!

Dad however, was absolutely flabbergasted that I was able to put all that food away. "Where are you putting all that stuff? He asked.

"Gee-whiz dad! I have had a very hard day and I needed to refuel!" I said with chocolate syrup dripping down my chin and onto the table.

After we ate, dad asked if I wanted to go to the hospital for a quick visit with my friends and of course, I jumped at that idea. Okay, that was a bit of an understatement. I'd just had the equivalent of about ten pounds of sugar! I didn't just jump; I sprang from my seat and began to bounce around madly, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Come on!"

Dad was smiling as he dropped his one hotdog rapper and half drank cup of coffee along with my empty cup, empty ice-cream bowl and wadded up Coney wrapper into the trash. I nearly ran out the door and to the car while dad gingerly strolled behind me while rubbing his tummy as if he'd just consumed a large horse.

He drove us to the hospital, walked me up to the room where I'd stayed just a few days ago and allowed me to visit for a while with my hospital-imprisoned friends.

As I walked into the room, and before I could say anything Bruce, Harry, Scotty, Kyle and Mark all spotted me and shouted my name all at once. "SIMON!"

"Hi guys!" I greeted back with a hearty bellow of my own. "Uh, where's Cole?" I asked.

"Ah they sent him home!" Harry said kneeling and bouncing excitedly on his bed.

Right then, in walked Nurse Gabby. Sounding slightly angrily she started to say, "What is all the ruckus in here?" but when she saw me the corners of her mouth curled up and she said, "Oh I see, I should have know it was you!" You know, the way she said it made it sound as if I was some sort of troublemaker -- so I took it as a complement and smiled back up at her!

She got a funny look in her eyes and then added, "Come here and give me a hug before I kick you out of here for disturbing these boys!" and then she smiled really wide.

She bent down and I wrapped my arms around her neck and hugged her tightly.

"What's this?" she asked feeling my new body armor beneath my shirt.

I lifted the front of my shirt up to my chin to showed her my new breastplate and not realizing until it was too late that my diaper was sticking out of my pants several inches all the way around. For maybe half a second I started to get embarrassed, but then I remembered that she and all the boys had not only seen me in diapers but the boys were all in diapers themselves and she'd not only seen me in diapers but had changed me and even seen me totally naked. The boys all bounded out of their beds on their own, even Mark surprised me by getting out of his bed and coming over to get a gander at me. It had been Cole, the one boy that was missing now who'd been in the room when I had. He'd had a nasty accident and nearly lost his arm, but the doctors were not only able to save his arm, but he also was able to use it too. Cole had told me only days before that Mark was not doing so well and that he didn't have much time left. To see Mark just then, I would never think he was even slightly sick, let alone on the edge of life and death!

"Wow! What is that?" Harry asked leaning on Scotty for a little support.

"It's to keep my ribs in place and protected while they heal." I said knocking on the front to show them how sturdy it was.

"Well I'll be!" Nurse Gabby said stroking the plastic in an almost passionate sort of manner. "I've never seen anything like it!" she added while spinning me around and lifting my shirt up in the back to get the full picture. "And it fits so very snugly! I imagine it would get hot in there?" she asked as she patted the plastic and Velcro on my shoulders.

"No, not yet anyway!" I said sneaking a glance across the room to where Cole's bed had been, there was now another much smaller boy lying there asleep, at least he looked smaller from the size of the lump he made from under the covers. I could only see the very top of the back of his head from where I was standing. My bed, or at least the one that had been mine was once again empty and that surprised me a little.

"I only just got it today! Do you know Doctor Zuligram?" I asked her.

"No, I've never heard of him." She said while lifting my shirt even higher to inspect the Velcro straps that held the front and back so snuggly together.

"That's really cool!" Mark said.

"Can I try it on?" Scotty asked.

"No you cannot try it on Scotty! Don't be silly!" Nurse Gabby said pulling my shirt back down.

"And how are you?" She finally said to my dad.

"Oh I'm doing great, all things considered!" dad said and had I not been listening to Scotty more then the two of them, I might have caught that dad was saying a lot more with those words then I realized.

We boys moved away from the two adults who continued to chat while we talked by ourselves. We had been yammering on for no more then two-minutes when the hospital loud speaker began to blare, "CODE BLUE ROOM 713! CODE BLUE ROOM 713!"

Nurse Gabby fled from the room in an instant. Dad looked over at me, pointed and said very sternly, "Stay in here and don't even think of leaving this room!"

I felt a little hurt by his tone and the way he said it, as if I was being punished or something. Dad too left the room and turned the same direction as Nurse Gabby had gone.

"What do you think that's all about?" I asked the guys.

"Someone's dieing!" Harry said.

"Yeah, that's what Code Blue means." Scotty added.

"No, not that!" I jokingly took a slow swing at Scotty's head with my fist and in turn, as if in slow motion, he reacted to the blow while adding his own sound effects.

"I was meaning my dad!" I said looking over my shoulder toward the door.

After a few seconds, we forgot about the sudden emergency and began chatting again. I found out that the reason Mark was feeling so well, was that the doctors had given him some new medication that had only just come out. It had totally turned his health around and in less than a day, he said he had felt no more pain and felt better then he could ever remember feeling.

"Man, that's like a miracle!" I said.

To which Mark laughed and said, "That is what everyone keeps saying."

"Yeah that one guy, he was funny!" Harry said.

"What guy?" I asked but I never did find out whom Harry meant because just then Scotty cut the loudest and juiciest sounding fart.

"Oh gawd Scotty!" I gagged as the scent hit me.

"Gee-whiz! What you been eating?" Mark said covering his face with a pillow.

Scotty smiled and said, "Greetings from the diaper gravy factory!"

That sent us all into fits of laughter and telling jokes that were too racy for boys of our ages to know, but we did anyway. Time went by fast and before I knew it, dad had returned looking odd - I mean he didn't look like his normal self. A few short minutes later, I discovered why.

"You about ready to go?" he asked while pulling a hanky from his pocket and dabbing at his upper lip.

"Can I stay just a little longer?" I whined.

"Normally I'd say yes, but I we have somewhere to be in just under a half-hour." Dad said looking at his watch and stuffing his hanky back into this pocket.

"Where?" I asked.

"Now if I told you that, it would not be a surprise!" dad said with an evil grin.

"Okay!" I lamented and turned back to the guys, "I will be back soon! I promised."

"See ya, Simon!" Scotty said.

"See ya, stinky!" I joked back and laughed.

The rest of the guys said their good-byes as well and as we left I glanced back one more time to see each of the boys sitting on Scotty's bed looking longingly at me. I suddenly felt as if I were abandoning them or something.

Dad and I walked back down the hall and as we neared the elevators I looked up at dad and asked, "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" dad asked and I wasn't sure if he was trying to avoid my question or was just not paying attention to me.

I stopped dead and he stopped too, turned and looked down at me with a very puzzled expression. I thumbed over my shoulder, "Back there, what was the emergency?"

Dad's face sort of dropped and he took a deep breath like he was going to say something but he didn't.

"You're not going to tell me are you?" I asked still looking up at him.

He still just looked at me as if he was trying to find something to say but couldn't come up with anything.

"Is Runt dead?" I asked right out of the blue.

I thought dad's eyes were going to fall out of his head and roll right back down the hallway. "No!" he said quickly. "Alright, I'll tell you but you have to promise not to get upset?"

"What?" I nearly shouted.

"It was Runt, but he was okay! He woke up from his comma and had pulled out the wires, tubes and needles they had him hooked up with." Dad said kneeling down so that he was at my eye level. He'd also taken hold of both of my arms and I felt like he was trying to keep me from running away. But honestly I didn't know why he thought I would get upset or go running. If anything I felt like shouting and cheering that Runt had woke up and was so strong that he could pull all those things off him!

"He's okay, he really is okay!" Dad said twice and I thought back to a movie I'd seen a while back where this guy told this other guy that if someone says something two times you could be sure he was lying. However, I was sure dad was not lying.

"The doctors and nurses are with him and are checking him out," dad said and added for the third time, "but he's okay!"

"Then that's good news, right?" I asked.

Dad thought a second before answering, "Yes, I think it is good news."

"You're not scared?" dad asked.

"Why would I be scared?" I asked back, but before dad could answer I figured it out and said, "Oh, you think I'm scared Runt will come after me?"

Dad smiled, "You don't have to worry about that!" he said.

"But dad? I'm not worried about that!" and adopting a bit of an accusatorial tone I said, "You sound like you are worried about it, but really I'm not!" As I said that last part I'd placed my hands on his arms.