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Megan's Strange New Life Chapter 1: Moving to a New Pod “Megan! We need to go!” I heard my dad calling at me as I quickly scanned around my empty bedroom, with the missing bed that used to rest against the window, my purple and pink dresser that was at the foot of my bed, and the memories of my friends sprawled out on the floor with me, coloring, chatting, or doing homework. This room had been mine for the last ten years of my life, and now, I was leaving it. A tear fell down my cheek as I bade one last farewell to the shut door. “What’s taking so long?” My dad looked over an oversized box that blocked most of his body from my view, and I was lucky to see his blue eyes and wild thick curly hair poking up over it. “Honey, did you forget something or are you missing something?” he sounded a little concerned for me. “No. I got it all,” I sighed. My bed and dresser, things I’d had since I was like four, were given away to poor neighbors. I honestly had been begging dad to get rid of that dresser for ages now, with its Snow Queen theme in purple and pink. But now it wasn’t there, and I was leaving my baby room behind, I couldn’t help it. The tear lingered on my cheek. “Well, do me a favor and open the door, honey. This box is killing my back!” I nodded, pulled my pink pullover shirt with Stitch on it down, and jumped over to the door, not happily, but just to not delay the time it took. I didn’t want my dad to hurt himself. I breathed heavily as he passed, looking down at my faded blue jeans and where my favorite shirt was already trying to pull itself up again to expose a small part of my stomach. It was probably time to admit that the shirt was getting too small for me. “I know, kiddo,” he smiled with his mouth, but his eyes were misty like mine, and I think he was nearly as sad as I was to leave. Sometimes, you just had to go where life took you though! That’s what he’d always say, especially in a time like this. “You know, baby….” I nodded as he told me the familiar phrase. I knew it was coming. “Cheer up, sweetheart! You’ll have twice the number of friends you’d had before because you still have friends, that with today’s tech, you can even keep in touch, and now, you’ll make new ones, too!” I shook my head. “But I can’t go to Cindy’s slumber parties anymore or hang out with Sharon at the mall.” “You didn’t…,” he started to look at me like I might have pulled the wool over his eyes and just now figured it out. “No, dad. What I mean, was now I’d never get to hang at the mall with the other teens with my friends. You always take things wrong. Sheesh!” But I smiled up at him. He just shook his head, labored to get the box to the van and in the back, and then I was in, and we were pulling out of the drive. Another tear slid down my cheek as I saw the driveway appear from under us, to the front, as we backed out of the drive. A heavy sigh tore at my heart. I remembered, three years ago, my dad had gotten a truck, and my mom, living at the time, glared her green eyes into his icy blue ones, and she asked him: “What do you think we can do with that piece of junk?” “Well, we can haul big things that we need, like when we buy a tree, and …,” but mom had her hands on her hips, and he knew that his truck wouldn’t last. I missed my mom’s green eyes and sunshine caramel light hair. I miss her perfume, and I miss her sing-song voice when she called my name. I was tranced out for a bit. “Megan!” my dad’s voice cut through my daydream so sharply I knew he had been calling my name a few times. “Sorry dad. I was just thinking.” “Thinking?” We were on the road, now, driving through the city towards the big one that would take us far away. The sigh in my throat was nothing to the sigh in my heart. “Yeah, about mom and about when we got this van.” “You remember that? That was like three years ago!” he said back to me sounding a little surprised and a little sad at the same time. He probably picked up on that it was our last memory of doing something outside of the hospital with my mom. I nodded, but he probably couldn’t see me. I didn’t feel like verbalizing though. I was starting to remember my mom’s face again, and I didn’t want what little I could still recall to vanish so quickly. Dad became kind of quiet, too. I really miss mom. I miss my own little bedroom in that little house we had forever and even if the room was infantile, it was mine and it had the memories of my mom in there, when she’d come and check on me at night, when I got scared and she hugged me, and even when I used to wet the bed, and she hugged me and then made it all go away and put me back to sleep. I sighed. “I was happy in that house,” I told my dad. “I loved my room.” “You hated your room,” he reminded me, but I could hear the chuckle in his voice. He knew that he was just egging me on to tell him what I missed. “No. I said it was juvenile and babyish, not that I completely hated it,” I huffed. “I liked that out the window was a tree and then the front road so I could see when my friends were coming to the house….” “Oh?” he had a laugh in his sound as he asked. “You’re sure you didn’t miss the princess dresser?” I frowned. It was the most babyish thing in my room, but then, I remember how mommy and I picked it out together when I was like six years old, they decided that it was time that I had my own bed in my bedroom, and not a toddler thing that was right in their room. “I… I do miss the dresser,” I sighed in sadness. “I miss mommy.” “I know,” he said his voice being a little less mocking now as we turned to the subject of why I really missed the baby things in that room. “But now, it’s time to grow up,” he told me. “I don’t mean about mom. You will miss her sometimes, and sometimes it will be very strong, but that’s okay.” “So, what about growing up?” I asked. “Well, even though you will sorely miss mommy sometimes, what you have to grow up about, is to remember that the dresser and the baby toys you had, are not her. They were kind of special to you because she bought them, but honestly, the most precious thing you should carry with you about her, should be in your heart.” I nodded. Of course, I knew he was right, but that still didn’t make it any easier to throw away the baby blocks I had because there was no room to bring unnecessary things with us in the car. My bed and dresser were both donated to a kid that was poor and needed it more. I hope that kid takes care of that stuff. “So, you are going into the fifth grade…,” dad tried to change the topic a bit. “You’ll be the biggest kid at your school next year.” I giggled. “There are, other fifth graders, daddy.” “There are?” he asked as though to be surprised by the fact. “You know there are,” I said half amused that he thought I wouldn’t catch on to his paternalizing behavior. Over the years, I had learned when he was playing like I knew something more than he did, and when he really was shocked that I knew something, though sometimes, he could still trick me. But me? The only fifth grader? He had to know I’d catch that one! I nearly laughed at myself being bothered that he played like that. Of course he did. It was just one of the silly things he did when he wanted to take my mind in a different direction, and it worked. I forgot, kind of, how much I missed mommy. “So, daddy?” I leaned towards the front seat, and got closer. “So…, you got a new job, right?” “Yes, sweetheart. It pays a little more than the last place, and because I’m going to rent the company trailers, rent will be reduced, too, so we’ll have more money to spend on you.” I smiled. “Okay. But do you know anything about where we are living?” “I do, sweetheart. There will be plenty of space to play, and it will be safer from dangerous people because people don’t typically like to live in a place like that.” “What’s wrong with where we’re living that even crime animals don’t want to live there?” I asked wide eyed. “Well, it’s a small town, so it’s easier to get caught if a crime animal takes something,” daddy said. “And there are less targets to take from because of the smaller number of people.” “Oh,” I looked down. I started to think about a couple of my favorite old, old, shows from when daddy was little a zillion years ago, and wondered if the town would have even twenty people in it. Anne of Green Gables made it feel like there weren’t many more than twenty. Little House on the Prairie also didn’t seem to have that many. Never heard of those shows, right? Well, my mom used to like them, so I watched them, and then I liked them, but I know they are like from a zillion years ago. It’s like I said. “Oh?” he asked as he heard my disappointment. “What’s wrong? You’ll have a lot of space to play and run around!” “Well, if there are less than fifty people in town, how will they have a mall?” “They don’t, sweetheart,” he frowned at me through the mirror. “But there are a few more people than fifty.” “So, there goes hanging out at the mall at all as a teenager.” He chuckled. “Baby, you have like five or six years before you need to worry about that. There’s no way I’d let you go to the mall by yourself before you’re sixteen. You do know that, right?” I frowned. “I guess.” I scooted up to sit up. I loved talking to my dad, but being in the same position too long was uncomfortable, so I sat up a little more, and then I pulled my feet up on the bench style seat and then leaning my back against the side of the van, the very side he was driving from, I got comfortable again. “So, if it’s a small town, does it have a small lake or maybe a mountain to climb?” I asked. “It might,” he said as though he wasn’t sure himself. “But it will also have fresh air and you might even see some wildlife. You never know. It won’t be like San Diego.” “San Diego isn’t that bad,” I crossed my arms. “I like it there.” He sighed and shook his head. “Well, honestly, I don’t.” I frowned wondering why he wouldn’t like it! There were plenty of things to do there, and it was easy to get around town even if your car wasn’t working. There were a lot nice shops and restaurants, and it seemed there were books and computers things everywhere! He liked computers. “We’re going to be on the road for a while,” daddy told me. “Why don’t you dig your crayons out or a book and occupy yourself for a while?” I nodded. I woke up rubbing my eyes. I didn’t remember when the smooth rhythm of the car, the soft music, and the quietness of reading had put me to sleep, but now, we were on the road somewhere way out in the desert-like steppes of Southern California. There were a few trees and bushes here and there, and way up ahead, I could see the hills and mountains looming up before us. It was still rather peaceful in the car, so much so, that it seemed boring. The skies seemed clear with maybe a cloud spotted here or there in the sky. I scooted up some, pushing a bushy curly mass of hair from my face and grabbing daddy’s seat, I spoke through the quietness of the car. The heavy atmosphere seemed to affect how loud my voice was. “Daddy? Where are we?” I asked. “We just left the Apple Valley and Victor Ville area,” he looked at me through the mirror. The shadow of where he always kept the hair off of his chin and under his lip was starting to creep up on him. “Are you hungry? It is getting near lunch time if you want to stop in a little bit.” Relieved that I didn’t have to tell him why I really needed to stop, I nodded, but he kept looking through the mirror at me, as if he couldn’t really tell I was nodding. Maybe he just looked up there so I would know he was paying attention to me, but he couldn’t really see me. I know the mirror is really for him to see the cars behind us. “Yeah, I’m a little hungry,” I said after a few moments. Okay, he was my dad, and I probably didn’t have any real reason that you would call a reason, but I’m just shy about personal things, okay? Get over it. Anyway, we continued to ride along on this stretch of boredom’s-ville road. There were a lot of ups and downs on this stretch of road, as if someone found a place where the earth had been pulled together in a fancy pleated fashion, and they purposefully built a road over that section thinking it might liven up the desert or something! I’ll tell you, it did not! It just made it feel annoying when you thought you could really see something interesting, then you were going up another hill that hid what you were looking at. I squeezed my thighs together wondering when we were going to stop. He mentioned getting lunch in a bit, so it couldn’t be that long, could it? I looked out the window to try to distract myself a little more from the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. “Barstow should be up here in about fifteen or twenty minutes,” my dad smiled back at me through the mirror that I was sure he couldn’t see me from. He had broken into my looking out the window imagining a unicorn running along the side of the road, which meant my mind went right back to the pang in my side and the feeling I had at the pushing pressure inside wanting out. “We’ll get some lunch there.” I leaned up. “That long, dad?” “I’m afraid so, kiddo. Is there something else bothering you?” “No. Nothing.” I quickly sat back being far too embarrassed to say anything else on the matter. My face felt a little bit hot, and I shook with the uncomfortable feeling that he somehow knew of my shame, that I had to get to the restroom. I hope he doesn’t suspect.” I thought back into last year at my desk one day: Back in fourth grade in January or February: We had been reading from our class study book, How To Eat Fried Worms, I think the book was called. I was sitting in my seat, feeling a little uncomfortable, and it was like thirty minutes before lunchtime. I saw people sitting quietly around me, still reading, and the teacher was calling on someone else to read a bit. As we read one, two, or sometime as many as five paragraphs, we discussed what was going on in the story. I was starting to fidget a little bit…. “Megan?” I heard my dad break into my thoughts again. “Are you alright back there? You seem a bit quiet.” “Yeah, I’m okay,” I sighed. I wished he wouldn’t keep interrupting me. He keeps making me have to go worse! I pushed my hands on the front of my pants, and looked out the window for a sign that might tell me how much further I’d have to wait. “Honey, you don’t sound okay,” my dad looked up into the mirror, and though I was sure his eyes couldn’t really see me, it felt like he could see not only my eyes, but right down into my body and into the full bladder that was swishing around inside, battering at the dam that I was trying to reinforce with my thighs tightly pushed against it along with my hands. “Look, if you need something, you should tell baby.” “There’s no bathroom around here,” I suddenly blurted out in frustration and anger that he kept making me think of it, and I was so embarrassed that I had to tell him that I had to go! I didn’t mean it. I was just really having a hard time and didn’t want to do anything like a baby, here. He sighed. “Okay. Well, hold on. Just about another ten minutes, sweetheart.” He didn’t even get mad that I yelled at him. Maybe he knows I had to go really bad? I felt my face get even redder and knew I had to be turning purple. I wanted to crawl into a tiny hole, but even though I felt all the shame of having to tell him I had to go so bad, I couldn’t stop my body fidgeting and my legs rubbing against each other, as if they were trying to massage the feeling away. Frowning, I tried to close my eyes, wanting out of this predicament I somehow got myself into. I wanted dad to forget what he found out. I wanted to just be sitting there quietly, just waiting patiently like the big girl I was supposed to be. This was worse than anything…. But no, not really. Back in Fourth grade, last January or February: “Megan, stand up and read for us, please.” Mrs. Thompson called on me in reading. The clock was still twenty-five minutes until lunch. I was already squirming in my chair. “Um…,” I looked around. I didn’t want to stand up. Everyone might see me squirming. But if I didn’t stand up, then everyone would be watching me for sure! I nodded and stood up…. “There’s the truck stop,” dad interrupted the memory of my worse day since starting school. I felt grateful, but at the same time, annoyed that once again, his interruption brought me back to the present where I was reminded that I was trying to keep my self dry now. It was eleven years old, now. I was over halfway to being an adult. I couldn’t be in this situation! It was so babyish! I looked out the window and saw we still had a very short way to get there, but the truck sign loomed up out of the ground like a savior! I was very happy to see that sign, and mentally scolded my bladder to wait just five more minutes! It wasn’t that bad! Of course, it was bad. My bladder pushed back in increased pressure to let me know that scolding it internally into submission was NOT going to work. The only thing I could do to keep from disgracing myself, was get to the promised bathrooms given by signs under the Truck Stop name, and get there now! We pulled our car easily into a parking area as there were plenty of places to park around. I pushed my knees together and internally scolded my bladder. “Look, just three more minutes, and then you can go,” I promised. “Just three minutes. Please. It’s not going to kill you to wait that long!” My bladder pulsed at me, and I couldn’t tell if it was agreeing to the deal, barking at me because I was scolding it, or if it was warning me that I didn’t have three minutes. I just knew that it wasn’t good to have the swishing pressure hammering at the dams inside. I had to keep my thighs so close together it was hard to take any regular steps, and my hands were pushed up against my pants, trying to add strength to the barricade. My dad had started to just walk, but when he looked back and saw me struggling, he strode his three giant steps towards me, and he bent down. His blue eyes looked into mine. He looked serious but comforting at the same time. “You’re not wet, at all yet, are you?” I shook my head. “I’m going to carry, you honey. It will be faster, and you might make it, okay?” I nodded, my upper teeth pulled across my lower lip momentarily. “Be careful,” I whispered. “If you hold too tight, I might um….” But he put a finger on my lips and gave me a serious look while his eyes were soft and understanding. “Just do your best, baby. I know you don’t want to have this happen. Trust daddy.” I nodded and let him carry me. The jolting of his movement wasn’t helping the strength of my dam, but he did carry me more like I was something rather than someone which meant he kept my legs together which made the dam stay in place though it was weakening. My upper body was nearly up over his left shoulder. “Just another moment,” he whispered as I was jolted along. I hoped I could make it. He finally sat me down just outside the bathrooms for girls. “Honey,” he made me wait one last moment while he lectured me about being safe. “Remember, if you feel scared to come right out even if you are not done, and if you are in there more than five minutes, I’m going to come in on you looking for you, okay?” I nodded pushing my legs and hands against the dam hoping he’d hurry this up. “Okay, then,” and brushing the side of my face with the back of his hand moving some of my bushy caramel light brown hair out of my eyes, he turned me towards the bathroom patting me on the back to send me in. Relief! There were eight stalls in here, and I don’t think any of them were being used. I saw some other women and girls near the sinks, but I ignored them. The closest stall was necessary! I hobbled to it as fast as I could, slammed the partition door hard, and hobbled to the toilet and started to pull at my pants when suddenly I felt a little urine pushing out. I grabbed my pants down as fast as I could getting pee pee on the floor, on the toilet seat, and into the toilet. Nervously, I felt around my jeans. I was afraid. But the butt was dry. I pulled at the front. It was dry. I didn’t see anything noticeable in them, but I could feel a little bit of dampness that was just around the middle and partly down one thigh on the inside of the jeans. My panties were damp and I was sure there was going to be a dried yellow stain where a little bit wet the middle of them. Daddy never checks my clothes anymore, so he won’t know. But that means I have to wear the damp panties and the jeans until they dried out. A small price to pay. No one will know I almost acted like a baby. We were back out in the main area again, and dad took my hand leading me to one of the many restaurants that seemed to be around this giant complex of places for people stopping. There was a motel, a gas station, six restaurants, a little souvenir shop, and even a tiny drug store. It was almost like someone took a mall apart, and then separated each of the stores into separate buildings, and then placed them around this huge parking space. “What about Mexican?” my dad smiled at me with a big toothy grin. I loved the way his eyes got those little creases at the edges on the outside when he smiled, and how his forehead sometime got light lines that seemed to disappear up above his hairline so it looked like they probably went all the way to the top of his head. They were just faint lines though, when he smiled. “Okay,” I said cheerily. I loved Mexican food, especially if it wasn’t just the fast food that we Americans label Mexican like this restaurant wasn’t. We walked through the door, and I could see Mexican themes everywhere from iconic large Sombreros hanging on the wall, to a huge map of Central America in the center of the area where we had to wait to be seated, and some other things that people sometimes didn’t think about. “Daddy? How come that picture shows white people invading Mexico? I though America never went that far south.” “Honey, the Europeans invaded all way from Canada all the way down further south than even Mexico when they first came here. Our white blood doesn’t come from being natives of the area of the United States alone.” “Really?” “Yeah, honey. Didn’t they teach you that in school yet?” “No. We just learned about the gold rush, and some animals, and how the white people kicked the Californian peoples out so they could get the gold here.” “Ah. I forgot. I thought state history and culture was taught in third grade.” “Huh?” I knew what history meant, but I had never heard of culture as being something taught. I thought it was just who you were. Like there was Mexican culture, Chinese culture, and Black culture and those were just things that they did that was different a little bit from what I did. I didn’t know that you had to learn it at school? Or maybe daddy did when he was little but now it’s all over the place. Daddy is like a zillion years old, after all. As we sat down, they brought out a plate of Quesadillas with some spicy sauce in a dish for us, and they gave us little glasses of water, like most good places did. The young waitress handed us a menu, and as she started to walk away, my eyes were drawn over a door where a woman with dark red hair was holding the hand of a girl not too much smaller than me in a jean ripped jacket with cutesy decals of pink and yellow flowers on the sleeves, a pink shirt where the jacket was open and I could see a portion of a unicorn, and her pants were ripped and stained from just above the knee down. It wasn’t just stylish rips like people sometimes buy these days, but it was really worn. Her hair was nearly as bushy as mine, but it was a dirty blond that looked like it might be changing color. “Get your filthy kid and get out of the restaurant,” I heard someone yell at the woman. I felt sorry for the child who was holding her stomach, though and I patted daddy on the arm and nodded over at them. “I think the little kid is hungry,” I told him. She was probably around my age, but I purposefully said little kid to get dad to look. He frowned and walked over where the woman and girl were standing. “Do you know this woman?” the usher asked my dad. “Yeah, they’re with us. You know how little kids are! That’s her favorite jacket and pants, so she insisted on wearing them. I swear, she’s going to wear those jeans until they fall apart!” There was a chuckle and my daddy lifted up the little girl as if she was his child, and the woman walked with them and sat the little girl down next to me. I couldn’t tell while we were sitting if she was really shorter than me or not. The woman smiled at my dad. “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it,” he nodded at the waiters around the room. “We can talk about it later.” I smiled up at my daddy. My daddy was really nice to people sometimes. That’s one of the good things about my daddy. If he thought you were in trouble, he’d help you even if it wasn’t his business. “So, does um…,” Daddy waited for the lady to fill in the little girl’s name for him as he was trying to find out about them. “October, oh, um… Octy,” the woman trembled some. She looked like she was lost in how to do something this sneaky. “Yeah, does Octy like anything special that is Mexican food?” The little girl looked nervous as she peered her eyes through the top of her had that was bent down to the table, and she mumbled. “aysi z gu.” I didn’t hear what she said at all. I know what gibberish I did get was not anything that could be intelligible to even my smart daddy. “Honey, I couldn’t hear you,” my dad whispered to the little girl that I saw getting tears in her eyes, and she shook some. I didn’t know what to do. Would she get more scared if I hugged her? I showed her the menu, and I pointed to the enchiladas I was hoping to get. “Do you like that?” I asked. The girl nodded her head a little bit, but she was still shaking really bad. I frowned and looked back to the woman. Now, I noticed, the woman was looking like she was shaking a bit, too. I wondered what they were scared of, and it sort of made me nervous. I cast my eyes about to see if it looked like someone was looking for someone. I imagined they’d probably be angry and maybe even stomping around, so I was looking for a person with that kind of vibe. My dad put a hand on the woman’s hand, and he whispered up at her. “Tell the little one to just eat quietly, and you, too, and then we can go back to my car together after lunch, and maybe you can tell me how I can help you.” The woman nodded. “My name is David. David Lawrence,” My daddy told her with a stern look like he knew she was in trouble, but I couldn’t tell if daddy thought helping her was a good idea or not. It was the kind of look he gave me when he was fixing a problem that I caused, but tried to pretend just happened, but he didn’t really believe the problem was there for no reason. “I… I’m Vanessa,” the woman nodded. “I…I’ll tell you everything, once we are safe.” My daddy nodded. “Well, I will get you somewhere safe. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got yourself in trouble, and it caused a child to get hurt.” The woman nodded and looked down. “Thank you.” As we sat and ate our lunch, I felt my face blush a little hot because I thought the other kid was sitting a little too close to me, and I definitely smelled something. I was kind of surprised my daddy didn’t smell how bad it was, if I could smell myself. I would probably have to tell him I peed my pants after all. I felt tears in my eyes as I realized that this little girl I didn’t know was going to find out. She had to smell me, though. It was really strong. My daddy reached a hand across the table, and he mouthed at me. “It’s okay, baby. We can talk later.” I nodded. Did he really know and was waiting to get me alone to not make me embarrassed? I was so stupid thinking I could hide that I peed my pants from him. Of course, he knew every time I did something weird. “Your little girl looks a little scared,” the woman said. “Assuming it’s not because of you, maybe we are making her nervous?” My daddy shook his head. “She’s just going through some stuff,” he seemed to try not to tell her about private matters. “She’ll be fine after we talk later.” “I don’t mean to cause trouble, David. I’m sorry I don’t have any money to pay you back for lunch, but we can just disappear when we are done eating.” “No, Vanessa. I promise, it’s not you. Megan is just emotional right now. She’ll be okay.” I could see the woman looking more at me than my dad though in that exchange, it felt like she knew something. Maybe I smelled so bad she knew I wet, too. I shook my head. I had to ignore her stares. But they were hard. I gulped. She knew I had peed my pants. I could tell. She knew. I shivered a little more. I didn’t even want daddy to know! What was I going to do now? She’ll tell him. He already knew. I shivered again. “Your child is really scared,” the woman told my dad. “I really think if you let me talk to her for a moment, just over there by the bathrooms, I can calm her down. She didn’t look nervous until we sat at your table.” My daddy looked at me for a moment. They seemed to watch each other for an eternity. My daddy looked around for a moment. “Don’t worry. The people looking for us don’t know we are here,” the woman told my dad. “We left in the middle of the night a couple of days ago. No one knows where we are. I promise.” My dad sighed and nodded. “Okay. But you stay where I can see my daughter.” The woman nodded and she stood up. “Come on, Megan. I promise, you’ll be okay, and your daddy will be right here watching us. I just don’t want to scare Octy anymore than she already is.” I nodded as I looked up at my dad. “Just be ready,” he mouthed at me so I’d know he didn’t fully trust the woman. I knew what he meant. He taught me how to get away from a big person a couple of years ago. Even a woman doesn’t like her foot stepped on between where the leg meets just under the ankle. And he would be out of his seat if he saw me fighting her. We walked over by the bathrooms, and the woman bent down to my ear. “Look, sweetheart, I told your dad the truth,” the woman got really serious with me as she looked intently in my eyes. “No one knows where Octy and I are, so you don’t have to worry about anyone causing your daddy trouble. You are safe.” I nodded up at her, my lower teeth pulling at my upper lip. I crossed my legs as though hiding something. I didn’t think it could be seen, but still, best not take any chances if she doesn’t know. “Honey, if you gotta use the toilet, that’s fine. You can go. I’ll just go back to the table and tell your dad that the new people at the table made you too nervous to tell him.” I frowned. My dad just took me. What would he think? But the woman thought I had to go. If she figured out I was wet, and I didn’t go now, what would she tell daddy? I shivered. “I mean it, sweetheart,” the lady smiled at me. “You can’t just stand there and pee your pants like a baby—not a big girl like you. Go potty and your daddy will understand, honey.” I looked at her for a good long time, long enough that she put her hand on my shoulder. “Sweetheart, are you already leaking?” she asked me. I shook my head no. I wasn’t going to admit that if she didn’t know I was wet. “Then go to the toilet before I tell your dad that you are peeing in your pants, baby.” I nodded and went into the bathroom. She was forceful, but at least she didn’t know I almost peed my pants. I went to the sink and grabbed some paper towels, wet them, and then went into a cubical to try to pull my pants down and wipe out the panties. I couldn’t get caught wetting my pants! Not at eleven years old! I shook as I tried to wet my panties with the water trying to make them smell less like I peed. I dampened around the middle of my jeans, too, but I couldn’t tell which leg some of it went down earlier because both legs were dry, and there wasn’t a stain. I just patted water on both sides of the inside of the leg parts by the middle. I wet the panties as much as I could without making them wet enough that I was afraid they would get my jeans wet, and then I used toilet paper and patted the panties dry. Do I smell less now? I stood up, and looked between my legs at my inner thighs. I patted some toilet paper there, too, just in case. The toilet paper didn’t come out wet, so I must be okay. I sighed. Finally, I came out of the door just as I saw the severe woman reaching her hand out to push the door open. She squatted down. “Your daddy sent me to check on you. You were in there a while. Are you okay?” I nodded. “Okay, then, let’s go finish eating, sweetie.” We walked back, and I kept looking up at her hoping I didn’t smell bad. We sat and started eating. So if the woman didn’t know I was wet, maybe daddy didn’t know? Maybe he just thought I missed mom again? Maybe he just thought like I did and was worried someone was going to come even if she thought she was safe. Maybe I was worried about nothing. Only I smelled it. Octy didn’t say anything about it to me. But as I sat there, nervously, I started to smell it again. I couldn’t understand it. I thought I got the smell to go away when I wiped it with water. I didn’t smell it when I was talking to the woman, I don’t think. No one gave me any strange looks. Why do I smell it again? A tear rolled down my face from my left eye. It smelled, and once dad was in front of me long enough, when we talked, he was going to know I was bad and acted like a baby. I wasn’t even supposed to do this. I am eleven years old! Please, don’t let everyone at the table know I peed! I looked over at Octy who was still looking down. I knew she was nervous. She was too nervous to say anything, probably. If she smelled me, she couldn’t speak up about it. She barely said a word since she sat with us. The woman, Vanessa, was talking to my daddy. They were more getting to know each other like what music they liked or where they went to school. From the way they talked, it might have looked like two single parents met up on a date and took their kids with them.