Baby Talk

Hey everyone! Another chapter up. A little late in the day and I’m definitely going to check tomorrow when I can to ensure there aren’t any grammatical or plot mistakes here, but I wanted to get this one up. I really don’t like falling behind schedule as I makes me feel unreliable here and it puts more pressure on me to pump out the following chapters. Plus, you get a story like my last one, and despite its length… it took me over six months to finish out. In theory, it should have only taken me less than four. Regardless… I’m not sure when my next chapter will be up. I will push to write most of it tomorrow, but that’s never a guarantee and both Friday and Saturday have now become… complicated. Nothing bad, for me at least, but definitely both time suckers in my day. And while I theoretically could write some in a waiting room… I don’t want to go through the whole routine of explaining this stuff away to a family member or a doctor if they ask. So, apologies, but there might be another delay. Again, I will try my best… but no guarantees right now. Now… last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter of my story! Chapter 4: Two Differences… Forever Changed The days passed with an irregular monotony that almost felt comforting in the face of change everywhere else. Having been dosed directly under the blast of the mist containing the soon-to-be mutated strain of ARV, my coworkers and I were more affected than most. Certainly not the peak categories of losing a year an hour… but as our features began to smooth out, I knew without even the confirmation of Mrs. Galen every few days, that were losing years each week. The ARV tended to slow down in the younger years, but I felt I blinked and I was already in my 20s. Curiously, despite being a decade older than us originally, Leo looked about the same. Regardless, the days of the camp soon became familiar to us. Mornings were spent getting ready for the day, followed by breakfast, one of two rotating camp schedules of A or B, lunch, and then community service with the commune. After, would be followed by some minor free time and dinner. Following, if it was a special day, it would be a bonfire and some quiet time in our cabin. If not, we could use the time to call our families or more free time… but it was always followed by curfew at 9 and sleep. And then all that would repeat itself over and over… But then it came to a Tuesday. I remember that clearly enough, but it was a day like any other before… except for two events that changed everything before the day was out. I yawned wearily as I got up. Last night had been a storm and the branches had scraped along the tin roof along with the pattering of heavy rain drops as well. I made sure to pull the blinds up to let in a little light. Above me, Uriah noticed… but said nothing. After that first night, I made sure to close those blinds before we went to dinner… when it was still light out. “Alright! Chop, chop!” Steven announced loudly as we all descended from our bunks shortly after, clapping his hands and fully waking any of the stragglers in the cabin. Blear-eyed and never a morning person, Dwayne glared back at him. “Really? And before coffee, man?” Steven smirked but passed beyond the comment without any other inflection. “Rise and shine, black cabin! The sun is out and the day’s a wasting! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Dwayne grumbled as he stumbled into the rear attached bathroom… but said nothing more about it. Frankly, from day one, the threat of punishment for rule breaking by Steven himself was only a vague notion beneath the veiled angry looks and threatening finger pointed back at us whenever we did something that very nearly broke one of the camp’s rules or his. And just so there was no confusion about what those were, a long and neat list of all the ones were posted right by the front entrance… and the back wall. Filing in shortly after, we each hauled our laundry sacks over to the laundry room. We did it three times a week. Twice for clothing and once for sheets and towels. Dropping them off, it was always a nice treat that breakfast was next up to satiate our growling stomachs. This morning was sausage, eggs, toast, and fruit. Jason smacked the fruit noisily between his teeth and Dwayne complained about the poor tasting coffee, but I was just enthralled with a decent meal that I didn’t have to prepare myself. It was literally just placed on the table in front of us buffet style and we dug in. For our table and the purple one, we got to serve ourselves. For red and blue, though, their counselors and leaders did. I made sure not to see the situation with yellow. I felt the less that was known about them, the better. “Whatcha reading, huh?” I asked Uriah, seeing him as one of the few with an open book here after wolfing down another serving of scrambled eggs. “Lord of the Flies,” he said softly. “Not really supposed to be reading this in front of others… but no one’s caught me yet.” “Oh?” I tried to search my mind for the reason why… but I couldn’t come up with anything. “Why’s that?” Uriah looked at me surprised for a moment. “Come on… think about it. A bunch of kids? Total anarchy without adults? It’s a recipe for disaster in a place like this.” I frowned. “But Uriah… we’re not kids. You know that, right?” He looked personally insulted. “Of course I know that, but…” He winced and gestured over to the red table. “Look at them.” I did and saw a bunch mindlessly chowing down on the same breakfast we had. “Yeah… and?” He sighed. “When you get a chance… watch them closely. Don’t even need to mess with yellow and blue is hit or miss… but by the time you get to red around here, you start to slip.” “Slip?” I had heard that term used before, but not here and not from Uriah before. “Yes, slip,” Eustace jumped in unexpectedly, Uriah being too reserved to push back and explain it himself. “Basically, the mind when you’re that young just can’t hold all your past information. It begins to leak out or whatever. Some say its stored… but it’s too early still.” I looked back over at the red table and heard the chortled laughter mixed with bad jokes and childish antics. “So, they’re…?” “Yes,” Jason nodded, butting in as well. “They’re starting to believe they’re that age. Doesn’t happen all at once… but it’s almost inevitable… at least around here…” “You make it seem like it doesn’t happen elsewhere,” I pointed out, Brian and Leo nodding along as well with curiosity. Everyone in the old crowd at the black table shifted uncomfortably while the rest of us ‘newbies’ watched on for any sign that could tell us what they meant. No answer ever came at breakfast. Steven instead whisked us away to our first class of the day: science. Indoors, the air conditioning felt wonderful, and we began to study chemical bonds. From what I could tell, these types of lesson were mostly to keep our minds sharp. As we regressed to certain levels, however, some classes would be removed and replaced with others. For example, red cabin used science to also include basic addition as well or apparently whatever the instructor, Mr. Yoder, decided needed to be refreshed. And from his chalk-laden outfit from several erasures and rewrites, I felt he did that often. But being the most knowledgeable of our group, it wasn’t at all surprising when Dwayne and Eustace’s chemical experiment worked leagues beyond everyone else’s… only their partnership. Secretly, though, I was just glad I hadn’t blown off my eyebrows in my own experiment with Brian. For some reason, some of my old chemistry classes seemed a little fuzzy. Yes, it was over 20 years ago… but still. Next was the nature class. Positioned outdoors, Ms. Peachey, was probably one of my favorites so far. Mr. Pinder on our designated ‘B Days’ was nice and pouring my frustrations into my creativity was a good stress release, and getting on a mini sailboat at the aquatics dock was lovely on some of the breezier days, but here, I truly excelled almost without thought. For me, it was almost like a vacation.   To my surprise, so did Uriah. Quiet but knowledgeable, when we went on a scavenger hunt for today’s main activity, I immediately knew who I wanted as my partner. Brian seemed a little hurt with me not picking him as usual, but a smiling Eustace didn’t let him go by himself for very long. “So… you seem to know these woods pretty well, huh?” I questioned Uriah just after we found a seed pod from one of the trees. Without taking his eyes off a bird perched on a far branch, Uriah nodded and whispered. “Yeah… didn’t grow up too far from here. Know a lot of things about nature around here… and this place.” I remembered the first night with the Ghoulmoth and how he seemed to know I had seen the red eyes staring back at me. “Like that monster?” I asked before clarifying what I meant considering we had now heard stories also about the yellow eyes in the mountains, Mothman, wendigos, and even a version of bigfoot that devoured human flesh. “The Ghoulmoth, I mean.” Uriah jotted down on our paper that he had seen one of the birds… but stopped halfway through and stared at me coldly. “Remember what I said… don’t mention what you saw… never.” “Yes, but… I figured if we had both seen it and there’s no one else around…” I tried to rationalize. “Then maybe…” “No,” he quickly cut me off. “Never talk about it. Trust me. Once you do… everyone will think you’re a nut or that you’re losing your mind to ARV. Both are just as bad around here…” After finding a pinecone, I finally broke the silence. “Is that what happened to you?” His foot cracked a stick as he walked away from me and then paused midstride. “No.” He never looked back at me… he just kept walking for the rest of the time. No anger… just no further acknowledgment to my presence. “Oh! What a wonderful collection,” Ms. Peachey praised us both, her braided red hair flapping about as she jumped up and down in pure excitement. “Come class. Gather round and see all the wonders of the nature surrounding you all!” It was a nice moment to get some praise like that… but I still felt a chill coming back from Uriah after our little chat. Next was Dwayne’s favorite activity apparently. “I call dibs on the 12 gauge!” he shouted, hurrying to the range on the far side of the camp and about as far away from the commune as seemed possible. Steven, trying to instill the rules in us, sighed once again today. “Dwayne! No running on the trails out here! You could trip and fall,” he reminded vigilantly before smirking. “And if that happens, then you wouldn’t be getting that 12 gauge… just going to see Mrs. Galen.” Dwanye slowed down immediately and grumbled. “Understood… sir.” There had been growing resentment for a while with Dwayne and each day it threatened to get him that long rumored punishment from Steven that no one ever seemed to want to talk about. He was pushing his luck and we all knew it… especially Steven. Despite his enthusiasm though, Perry was the best at skeet shooting. “Pull!” he shouted. Mr. King, our instructor, yanked back on the handle of the machine, and the clay pigeon went flying out to the large hill already strewn with several broken versions of the black and orange discs. Perry, using his patience, followed the clay pigeon and fired. The blast was deafening and several birds flew away, but a split second later, the clay pigeon split into two. “Another one!” Mr. King called out, marking it on his chart where he had been keeping track of our records. “Well done, Mr. Tilling. Another mark made.” He smiled, his old jowls sagging and briefly lifting up. “Stay in my class for another few days and I might just have to sign you up for our talent show next week!” Being the skeptic and critic and overall sarcastic member, I had rarely seen him with a smile… until right then. “You think so?” There was so much hope in his voice, it made me wonder about his past and how many times someone had actually complimented him. Sadly, from his looks, I doubted it was many, if at all. Stepping aside, Mr. King flipped over his page. “Next up, Mr. Paperton! Step on up, son.” Eustace nodded and took to the staging platform with his borrowed shotgun before adjusting his safety goggles and earbuds. ‘Safety first’ was our entire first day out here on the range. Then, like always, he extended his hand like the rest of us did to finally receive a shell from Mr. King, who guarded them as closely as he could without wearing them on his person. Dwayne questioned it the first day and all we got as an answer was ‘safety concern.’ Just as Mr. King handed Eustace a cartridge to load up… he wavered for a moment. His fingers twitched spastically and he withdrew his hand before setting his shotgun down on the ground. “I… I…” “Son?” Mr. King questioned. “You okay there?” “I… I…” He wavered… and then he collapsed. “Steven!” Mr. King called out. We surged forward and Mr. King yelled at us. “Stay back! Give him some room.” And as soon as Steven arrived, Mr. King stood up and went to the gun locker. “Guns… now. One at a time.” Dwayne sighed but the rest of us complied without a single word back. It was purely protocol and we knew that. With a crisis on the line, all shooting stopped. A paranoid person might have complained or demanded to continue after someone had ‘just fainted,’ but Mr. King was a stickler for the rules. And considering the nature of guns here and bows and arrows in the next range over for some of the younger crowds… it made total sense as to why. Plus, his standards were also high. In amethyst group, he noted that he held a strength test at the beginning of every class. If they passed, it was more skeet or target shooting. If they failed… they were permanently dropped to the bow and arrow. Still a steel-tipped point, but no explosives in uncoordinated or weakened hands and arms. “I… uh… what happened?” Eustace then asked as Steven was checking his heartbeat and breathing with the stethoscope he had pulled out of the local med kit. Steven sighed in clear relief. “You fainted, Eustace. Not a big deal… could’ve just been the heat, but… let me take you to Mrs. Galen’s. She’s going to want to check a few things out.” Eustace immediately hesitated. Steven smirked. “And don’t worry. Nothing bad. Just being cautious, and you should be able to join your cabinmates at the end of lunch… or even at the commune at worst. And then, I can pack you a lunch and you can take time off today. Sound like a plan?” He still winced, but after a tiny push from both Dwayne and Jason, Eustace nodded back. “Okay. Just… no needles, okay?” Steven frowned for maybe half a second at the seemingly random request from one of his ARs but then nodded as if it was no big deal. “Sure. Whatever you want…” The two then walked in front of the rest of the group and left Mr. King. The range class was over for today. Dwayne and Perry both complained… but no one made too much of a fuss… especially as we passed in front of Mrs. Claw’s office in the main building as Steven dropped Eustace off. “Damn. Can’t believe we missed out on skeet shooting today,” Dwayne complained. “Just five minutes,” Leo pointed out. “Not too bad.” I looked back towards the nurse’s office when neither Dwayne nor Perry complained more. “So… what do you think’s wrong with him?” “Heat,” Jason said quickly. “Like Steven said. Just the heat…” I noticed Uriah was about to speak up… but immediately kept quiet and shrank from view. He seemed to know something… or at least be curious. But if he was going to say anything before, he didn’t seem like he was going to now. And Dwanye and Perry might have complained more to Steve once he came back out… but lunch was next. And food was always a priority… even over complaining.   Lunch today was more simplistic than most of our other meals… yet almost seemed luxurious at the same time. It was odd, but it was something called ‘Walking Tacos.’ Questioning Steven, he informed us that it was pre-cooked taco meat, portioned out with Fritos or Doritos, and topped with shredded cheese, lettuce, and salsa, with potential guacamole, olives, and sour cream on the side. Perry raised an eyebrow at the mixture laid before us, but once the rest of us caught wind of the heavenly smell emanating from under the tin foil once it was set down, we seemed practically helpless to resist. To say the least, afterward, I was stuffed. And there, sitting on the long bench with my cabinmates, I heard a loud “No!” echo off the rafters overhead followed by a long clattering of something on the floor… and then a whole series of ‘oohs.’ Straightening up, I looked where everyone else was looking now… and in a second, I saw what it was. Regressing like we were, it was almost a mercy to eventually slip. Until then, one would have to imagine almost every sacred thing in their lives suddenly being ripped away from them either due to the government, lack of skill, or maybe you even forget a tiny little bit of it and therefore can’t enjoy it any longer. That was our lives now and while Camp Commune did their best, there was only so much they could do against that tide of emotions welling behind each of us. For a poor member of the blue cabin, one more thing forced seemed to be too much. “Joshua! You will not throw your plate like that!” a woman, now much taller than him, scolded him in front of the whole dining hall. If the place could have grown even more silent, it would have. “I just want you to eat your greens! How hard is that? Are green beans really so bad?” ‘Ah… that explains it.’ Slipping slowly meant some younger characteristics would begin to slip back into a persons life. Hatred of all things green was just one of many for many ARs. “Shove it…” the AR sneered at her. “What did you say?” the woman asked, flames now seeming to lick and dance around behind her eyes. The AR briefly recoiled. If they were slipping, a possibility in blue cabin apparently, they might have had a younger mindset one minute and their old mind the next. For him, I wasn’t sure which was which… but I definitely saw what came next. “I… I said no,” he stammered out, now trembling a little under her potent gaze. She waved her finger in his face as if to scold him. “No, no… that’s not what you said,” she nearly growled as she towered over him. ‘Crud. It was a test.’ I had seen it before with other ARs since I first arrived here. Counselors would try and evaluate the ARs under them. Telling the truth, no matter how bad, was one metric they used. And this AR had not only just failed, but they had failed after cursing at their counselor. ‘Not good…’ Sure enough, before the AR could even muster an apology, the counselor grabbed the AR by the scruff of their collar and practically hoisted them out of their seat. Next, they began the long trudge down the row in front of everyone else and right out the front door. Many ARs winced. “Poor guy…” Uriah sighed. “Yeah… just some stupid green beans…” Perry noted, sensing the futility of the fight in that way. He always promised that if he was ever going to get in trouble again… it would be for something big and not something small… like green beans.   “Yeah…” I agreed as well. For me though, it was solely an agreement over the fate of him being punished. Having never been punished here before, I didn’t know what it entailed. But from what Perry could only imply… it wasn’t pleasant. But all that still wasn’t the one of two big changes that happened. Per a camp regulation and from the agreement they had struck with the Claws who owned the forest the camp was built on and the commune that had agreed to the sale in the first place. Ever since, part of the agreement was for the commune to provide food, entertainment, and knowledge of the area back to camp. In return It still puzzled most of us with the agreement seeming far too one-sided. “It was a mutual agreement,” Steven clarified again to us as we exited the dining hall and made our way to the commune. “That and a huge check out to them…” We always sighed over that answer. It seemed real enough… but there was always a note at the end of his various explanations that made me question if it was the whole truth.   “Welcome back to Havenswood!” Mildred greeted the crowd in front of her once more. She appeared to be the spokeswoman and the mediator between the commune, or Havenswood as they called it, and the camp… and not the leader I thought she was before when she first entered the dining hall. “I believe you all know the drill?” she partially questioned before getting a nod from Steven and a few of the other cabin counselors.  “Oh, good. Always forget when you all get your new newbies and all. So… I don’t need to explain the rules in depth. But just remember… no cursing, running with tools, or hurting any of us… which includes insulting us.” Many of us nodded. I saw that Dwayne didn’t. “Okay… splitting you all up today…” Mildred mused as she looked at her paper chart that I knew contained all the various tasks she had planned for us. While black, purple, and blue cabins would share in the work to keep this place going, red and yellow only got to play. Some darkly joked at the end of the work; they would give almost anything to become red or yellow just to get out of work for one day. A lot of people laughed over that… including Brian. I never did. “First half… with Mr. Lehman,” she noted, gesturing over to one of the locals. “He’s got some household items he needs help with. Maybe even some painting…” They walked off, smiling as they did so. While labor intensive… it was almost always indoors or at least shaded. And with that work gone to us… Brian, Uriah, Eustace, me, and a few others from different cabins knew we would be outside. That could mean forest work… that could mean the fields. So far, we only had been assigned to small gardens and the forests. “Oh! Am I late? Did I miss them?” a tall and blonde woman asked as she ran over, clutching her straw hat closely to keep it from flying off. “I’m so sorry, Miss Mildred! I had trouble with the chickens and then my dress got all wrinkled and then I couldn’t find my hat and…” She paused and backed up with a wince. “Oh no… I’ve seen that look before. I’ve missed them, haven’t I?” “No, Emma,” Mildred said, almost with a tone that made it seem like this wasn’t the first time she was late. “Just divided them up. You were almost late today… but no. Just…” She sighed deeply before gesturing to us. “These are your new volunteers from the camp…” “Oh!” She turned to us and smiled, and as cliché as it might sound, it was like her smile radiated out the sun toward us. “It’s so nice to meet you all. I can’t wait to get to know each and every one of you lot! And also, I’ve got some great work for us to do together today!” For a moment, in between her near beaming smile and personality, I swear it looked like she wanted to hug us. And so, meeting Emma and being assigned to the fields was the first big change of the day. “Okay… first task of the day is to weed this whole field,” she told us after guiding us to a large field that had been freshly tilled. “Probably won’t finish today, but after two hours, even if it isn’t done, go ahead and treat yourselves to some wild berries over there by the trees.” I looked over and saw a few bushes… but said nothing. She made a few more notes to the younger campers but then moved on and back into a nearby house. “She seems… perky,” I offered once she was out of earshot. “Eh… she’s not too bad,” Eustace noted. “A little much… especially with her hugs.” “You don’t like her hugs?” one of the nearby blue campers questioned, looking ready to become offended or cry over even the mere mention of that notion. Another blue scoffed. “Just ignore him.” He leaned over and whispered, but more for effect than achievement as anyone within ten feet could probably still hear him. “I think he’s got a crush!” “Ugh! Sammy! I told you…” He stomped his foot and quickly stormed off. “Ahh!” A few of us chuckled… including Sammy. “Hey,” I offered my hand first in friendship. “Miles.” Sammy shook my hand back before greeting the others from our cabin. “Sammy. Been here a few weeks now. Blue cabin… hoping to bounce before too much longer. You all?” I nodded. “Same.” “Same…” Brian noted distantly before Uriah only nodded. “I just hope for happiness at this point,” Eustace pointed out. “Been here too long to hope for anything else…” Sammy nodded. “Yeah… totally understand that. Got here with purple. Now I’m blue… and I’ve seen a whole lot of campers go by. Most adopted out now.” “So, slow regression?” Brian questioned. Sammy winced. “Yeah… but don’t ask that to another AR, okay? Almost considered rude around here for anyone in blue or below. I don’t mind but…” He looked around and right then we noticed how the other blue campers had moved away from us. “Just taboo I guess.” “Sorry…” I said sheepishly. Sammy blew it off. “Eh… no worries. Just now you know. Not much eight-year-olds can do against you… but they have the numbers. And trust me… you don’t want to see what a bunch of scrawny but determined second graders can do.” Remembering my nephew at that age, I quickly shook my head. Two hours later, right on cue, we all retreated towards the woods and to the berries stationed there. While the others greedily ate the ripest, I held back for a moment. ‘Strange these are still here. Look more natural and wilder than being planted on purpose. Would have thought an animal would have gotten to them by now…’ I shrugged and dug in, my eyes focused on the woods the whole time. “You know… you look like you’ve seen a ghost when you’re looking at the trees in the forest,” Sammy pointed out after noticing my stare back at them. “That… or something else.” I felt the heat rush to my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I did… but I saw Uriah give me a glare that quickly changed my mind in telling our new friend that. Instead of being insulted or pressuring me to reveal what I knew though, Sammy patted me on the back. “Hey… no worries. You’ll talk about it eventually. Scary stuff… and it doesn’t go away. In fact, the younger you get… the worse it gets.” I could feel my hand grip the very bush tightly as my nerves played up. “What are you all talking about?” Brian asked us, one of the few in our little circle now who apparently wasn’t in on the notion of the red eyes of the Ghoulmoth or the yellow ones of at least two of the others in the bonfire ghost stories. “Nothing,” Uriah almost hissed back. “Nothing at all…” He gave me a quick and forceful glare… one that I think the others noticed as well. No one talked for at least a minute. Until Sammy smirked and threw one of the still pink berries right at Brian. “Hey!” he called out. “Quit that!” “Why?” Sammy questioned him playfully rather than as an annoying nuisance. “It’s fun,” he offered. “Try it yourself.” He then threw another berry… this one at Eustace. Instead of groaning and frowning like Brian had, Eustace seemed to embrace it with a playful smile. And my suspicions were even further confirmed when he grabbed a few… and threw them right back at Sammy… and then me. Vowing revenge in the lightest of ways, I picked up a few myself and threw them back. “It’s war!” Eustace shouted. “Fire back! Fire back!” I called out, ducking behind the bush next to Sammy. I then threw one at Brian with a grin. “Come on… hit me!” I would normally never tell someone to do that… but this was stress relief, and ever since the ghost story, Brian had been on the edge a little. He practically growled at me… before launching three of them right for my face. When one splattered, he looked horrified… but I only smiled back at my friend and returned the fire. Soon, several of the bad berries littered the floor. Which is right when Leo, Dwayne, Perry, and the rest showed up. “What the…?” Perry questioned with a deep state of confusion. Brian stopped with a blush but Eustace, Sammy, and I continued. “Oh… come on you all!” I encouraged when I saw the rest of our cabinmates. Dwayne then stepped forward. “Can’t believe you all! I thought you were supposed to be working… not lunging around in the middle of a… good fight?” “Nah!” Eustace chuckled as if he was possessed by a demon before reaching down and plucking something off the spot beneath his foot. He then smirked and changed his whole demeanor. “Take that, you stupid head!” he called out suddenly, before pelting him with another berry from the ground now… right between his eyes. “Dude!” he called out. “What the hell?” Eustace was laughing and so was Sammy… but I wasn’t anymore. Concerned, I stopped Sammy with a simple gesture and shook Eustace… seeing my new friend as something almost looking drunk. Others might have dismissed it, but I just saw a person in need of a wakeup call apparently. “Hey… it’s over.” “It’s…” Eustace stopped and looked at his hands, now partially stained from the berry juice of the ones he handled too roughly. “Oh… sorry…” He got a strange look over his face. But before I could question what that was, Dwayne scoffed towards Leo about Eustace. “Geesh! So stupid… so childish, right?” Leo didn’t make a comment but gave one damning nod of his head. To me and Brian, it seemed to cut us in two like a knife… the ultimate insult. For Eustace, he just seemed lost in his world in confusion over what had just happened… like he had lost control. And Sammy seemed to take in stride, waving goodbye to us and hoping we could catch up again. For him, it seemed this was just a discovered perk of being young… the ability to walk away and not care. And despite the continued teasing by Dwayne and Perry to us, even being briefly admonished by Emma, I didn’t care. For the first time, despite the childish nature of it, I had genuinely smiled without a single hesitation. No drop in self-respect after or another rule added or some freak nighttime story. It was just fun. But Eustace… he seemed to be taking it harder than Brian or I. Ever since his collapse at the range and subsequent visit to Mrs. Galens to get checked out, he had either been totally reserved or completely carefree… like he was with the berries earlier. All through dinner, he just moved his peas around with his fork. I wanted to bug him about it… fearing something was wrong I couldn’t see yet or that he had been told something. Or, as it happened for some ARs, I thought that he could have just been depressed. At night, with Steven saying his final ‘goodnights’ to us, I stopped what I was doing and went over to see Eustace directly. “So… long day, huh?” He nodded, trying to figure out his next move in our game of chess. Being one of the few entertainment options in here that we hadn’t brought or begged for ourselves, tournaments had become frequent at nights… especially on those not occupied by a bonfire or another ghost story. Seeing the blinds closed already, I was grateful of that fact. I hopped one of my pieces over two of his… something I felt he would have caught only just last week. “You feeling okay, Eustace? You seem a little… green?” His hand hovered over a piece, and he then looked up at me with a little fear. “I do?” I nodded… and then I noticed something that I hadn’t before. “Yeah, but Eustace? Uh… did you shave before dinner or something?” He frowned and shook his head. “No… why?” I grimaced and part of this mystery was starting to be unveiled before my eyes. I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew if I was right, I would see very soon. “I just… your skin is a lot smoother than I would have thought it would have been otherwise…” “My…?” His hand deftly rubbed his cheek where he normally sported a five o’clock shadow by now. “I guess I lost that, huh? Swore I shaved it this morning…” My heart sank further and I looked at the clock. I estimated he was in his mid-20s or around there when we first met him. Yesterday, he might have been a year younger… at most. Now though… I tried doing the calculations in my head. ‘Mid 20s around 12 o’clock today and it’s 9 o’clock now… estimate facial hair for someone like him… maybe early teens?’ My head clicked with the easy but terrible math. But I also needed to be sure. Unfortunately, Eustace was our expert on ARV around here. I could go nosing through his book… but he would want to know why. I could play it off and blame it on my overactive imagination… but that felt too time consuming. And looking at my new friend with his wide eyes and youthful glow… I wasn’t sure if time was on our side. “Say Eustace… mind if I ask you a question?” I pondered, trying to ease in this as best I could. He was nearly sweating with the strain it took to move a piece now. He could still lift the plastic red token he now hovered over… but his mind didn’t seem as sharp or quick anymore. It seemed clouded and distracted. Maybe it was just a long day… but I knew I needed to check for our sakes… and his. “Yeah… just…” He grimaced. “Just make it snappy…” I nodded. “Well, I had this friend back home… denied they had ARV,” I explained with my made-up lie. “Got it diagnosed… but not sure of which strain. Then, he collapsed in the middle of the day, apparently on the day we left. Seemed to be shrinking about one year every hour… but he didn’t realize it. Got a letter all about it… but it just ended without telling me the end.” “That sucks…” he noted solemnly as he still tried to figure out where to go next. If he knew it was about him, he didn’t let on. “Yeah… totally sucks,” I agreed, looking at my new friend with sadness in my heart. “But I wanted your opinion of what happens next. If someone sees that… how bad will it be? And… what would you tell them if you somehow knew?” Eustace stopped and looked back at me. “Well, reality is reality. Whether he sees it or not become irrelevant when things become obvious.” “Like when shaving isn’t needed anymore all of a sudden?” I questioned, probing to see if he would catch on by himself. “Right!” He seemed happy over the notion of us being on the same page now. “But I would show them something obvious they could see was different. Give them evidence of a change, and doing that, I would then tell them that it was all going to be okay.” I smiled. “Sounds like good advice.” But I sighed and spotted a lack of scar on his arm. He had gotten it after fishing off the coast of New England one summer with his dad when he was 18. It was a powerful memory, and while I hoped it would last… the scar hadn’t. “Eustace… you know we’re all your friends, right?” “Uh, yeah?” I could tell he was getting suspicious. So, I knew I needed to dive in. “Well, everything is going to be okay, but… do me a favor… look at your arm… your right arm.” He frowned before looking at his arm. “Okay… I’m looking and what am I supposed to see here? It’s all the same. The light hair and the freckles and my sca…” He stopped and looked up at me and I knew he knew. “No…” he shook his head. “That can’t be…” I nodded. “It is. You know it is…” I wanted to comfort him more, hoping this place would live up to its word and help him through everything that was about to happen… but he bolted upright, knocking his chair over and alerting everyone to his presence. By the time they started asking questions, rather than just assuming he had lost the game, Eustace was having a panic attack. “Breathe, man! Breathe!” Leo implored. “Come on, Eustace,” Brian tried to encourage. “Just deep breaths. In and out… in and out.” When that didn’t work, everyone panicked even more than they had been. “Shit! What the hell happened, Miles?” Dwayne asked me. “What did you do?” Leo frowned after trying and failing to console one of his older friends here. The two were close… at least closer than he was with Uriah, and that seemed to mean something to him as he rubbed his face with his hands before looking directly at me. “Miles… please. Tell us what happened…” “I, uh…” I wasn’t prepared for this. I thought it would be obvious to them as well, but then I also remembered our group had been split up and that most of them were so focused on themselves that they hadn’t noticed Eustace and his odd displays today. “He’s going through something and… he needs our support an…” “Just out with it!” Perry barked, trying to rub Eustace’s back now. I wanted to tell them… I really did. It felt impossible and so simple over what was happening and what was next… and a thousand other answers to their questions. But I never managed to get there. “Oh… for crying out loud you lot!” Uriah shouted in frustration to everyone’s shock. “He’s going to bounce by tomorrow…” He sighed deeply as he longed for that special someone now. “He’s got the fast and dangerous strain now…” This was the second biggest strain today… and one that would echo in our minds in the days to come. A deathly silence overtook the room. We all wanted Uriah to be wrong… but our eyes were sharper as we youthened. No strain… no lies. We saw the truth in our friend, and we saw the edges of him coming undone. It would be fascinating if it wasn’t so horrifying. And we all knew right then… Eustace was losing about a year per hour. By morning, he wouldn’t belong in black cabin anymore…

It was the kind of car that makes you wonder if parking next to it is a good idea.  Askew in its bay, the ancient (well, circa 1997) Ford Falcon, it’s once lustrous ocean blue metallic paint blistered and peeling where decades of harsh Queensland sun had scorched off the clear coat layer that used to make it shine was sporting minor scrapes and dents on every external surface.  Clearly its driver used a kind of touch-parking system and wasn’t too good with orthogonal angles. But supermarket parking was scarce at this time of day.  I was in a hurry for just one thing with which I could make a dinner when I got back home and the only available empty bay was the one next to it.  So I reversed in careful to put my own vehicle as far away as I could from the suspect parker without making it too tough for the person parked on my other side to get in or out of theirs. Getting out and standing beside my driver’s door I noticed the pink and blue disability parking permit on the crookedly-parked Falcon’s windscreen and wondered why its driver had not availed themselves of one of the plentiful (and wider) disability parking bays directly at the supermarket door.  Glancing up it became clear that was because those bays were filled entirely by overly-entitled SUV-driving school mummies: it was 3:30pm and school was out.  Presumably their disability was not having a chauffeur to pilot their Rangers, Audi Q8 or occasional Range Rover for them to fetch the after-school sushi. Although dilapidated, there was a certain integrity to this beaten up old car.  It appeared to be 100% original and in factory form.  I got the impression that it and its owner had been ageing-in-place together over the last 30 years or so.  Certainly something about it said “one owner”.  It also said “Last car” but I try not to dwell upon terminal chronology these days.  As I turned to walk between my own car and the crumbling Ford I saw into its cabin through the slightly foggy, purple-and-peeling window tint.  It was like a glimpse into somebody’s life and that life didn’t seem to be that great. The car was largely filled with junk.  Take-away food containers, medication boxes, a garden hose, numerous scraps of paper and adult nappies. Huh? I looked again. There, on the back seat, spread out and laid carefully as if in waiting was an adult-sized pull-up nappy.  Beside it were a couple more, these ones still folded as though taken directly from the bag but yet to be considered for attire.  Behind them, an opened packet of Molicare Slip Maxi offered three quarters of a pack of more substantial taped-and-tabbed nappy protection presumably for those times where a pull-up is simply not enough nappy (let’s face it, that’s nearly all the time). There were what looked like more nappies in the rear passenger foot-well.  I didn’t dwell to examine them but they appeared to be somewhat scrunched up and I wondered if they were, er, well, used… Eww… I’m aware of the concept of the “territorial bubble”: the psychological device whereby we extend our concept of home with its association of private sanctuary to our vehicles but this did seem to be pushing it. I also accept that the incontinence that some of us inexplicably crave is more frequently, a ghastly and unwelcome co-traveller to physical decline and that people facing this challenge should be fully allowed to go-loud-and-proud, shunning shame and secrecy.  Nothing about this gear said “ABDL”. I also accept that I too have adult nappies in my car.  I’ve reached the point now in my own long, gentle (albeit self-inflicted) decline in continence to dimly realise that things like road trips might be difficult without nappies and sometimes road trips don’t proceed quite how you plan them to.  Accordingly, my car too carries a small quantity of adult nappies and rudimentary nappy change infrastructure.  But, these are hidden in a duffel bag in a hidden compartment in the boot.  The only people who are going to see them will be myself, my next-of-kin in the event of my demise or maybe, a forensic crash examiner.  Also, long habit has made me less concerned about hiding nappies and related infrastructure as though they were Iranian enriched uranium.  I haven’t put up a sign in our front yard but anybody who walks into our walk-in-robe at home is going to quickly realise that at least one of the household members wets themselves. Changing your nappy in the back seat of your Ford Falcon at a supermarket carpark did still seem to be a long way north of even adaptive-normal though.  I wondered at the gradual erosion of “normal” that must occur for on-display-to-the-world décor decisions such as this to seem ok. Then it occurred to me that the “normal” people around me weren’t even seeing this.  People were disinterestedly wandering past some old dude staring vacantly at some even-older-dude’s clunker car.  I’d seen through the “Somebody Else’s Problem” field, recognised what I was seeing and then went down the mental rabbit hole of de-constructing it.  For all practical purposes this scene didn’t exist.  If it wasn’t for my own strange choices I probably wouldn’t have noticed it either. I kept an eye out for an obvious nappy-wearing candidate inside the supermarket but saw nothing.  Perhaps they went to the chemist instead.

Bambino Teddy .... and lower tape popped off and even gorilla tape wasn't sticking.   

I don’t link any of my accounts on my phone 

If you wake and intentionally wet your diaper, do you still count that as a bedwetting night? I still have few nights of no memory bedwetting. So I still just enjoy the wet diaper in the morning anyway. Whether it happens naturally or otherwise, it's still a wet diaper, so I don't overthink it and stress. Glad I don't have to get out of bed to pee.