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Blue is the Colour Simon Bonner had had a fantastic day. He’d just celebrated his twelfth birthday with a brilliant party, and there was still two weeks left of the long summer holidays before he had to return to Big School. Not only that, but as a treat, his parents, John and Helen, had finally got around to redecorating and refurbishing his bedroom from being that for a child to one of an upcoming teenager. Out had gone the childish wallpaper and single bed, in had come a new carpet, double bed, trendy bedding, a new solid looking wardrobe with matching long chest of drawers (his mother had called it a dresser). Although this would provide plenty of space for storing clothes, it also had the benefit, as Simon saw it, of a long hard wood surface that would be great for holding a TV and all his other electronic equipment. He was twelve now so his parents had said he could have such things in his room, providing they didn’t interfere with sleep. Simon loved what his parents had done and had been uncharacteristically happy about getting involved in choosing his own colour scheme. They were treating him differently. He was pleased to feel he was becoming an adult and not a kid any more. Ever since he was a baby there had always been a pale blue night-light that every single bedtime, since he’d moved into a room of his own when still only six months old, had kept him company. Throughout the room’s many changes that light had been the only true constant and if truth was told, Simon relied on that little glowing bulb to keep any nightmares at bay. In fact, as a toddler his mum had told him, “Blue is the colour of emotion... to soothe and heal... it’s also there to provide security and illumination” Except, she said all that in a more child friendly way so he’d understand – basically - Blue is for you - to make all your dreams come true. Now he was grown up he thought he could do without the reliance of a night-light but one present from Aunty Jane had been a rather nice lava lamp, which by sheer coincidence glowed blue with pale blue shapes as it warmed up. Simon had always been fascinated by these lamps ever since they had one in the living room when he was seven. It drove his mother mad and eventually disappeared without any reason. He never voiced how much he missed it but was very pleased to receive this new one as a gift. It would sit wonderfully next to his TV and video games console. He was amazed that his aunt had come up with such a fantastic gift. Meanwhile, there was a downside to this and was another issue that declared he was growing up. Birthday presents included stuff from people who had no idea what he liked. Amongst the books, CDs, video games and such, his Aunt Jennifer had bought him some shorty pyjamas. They were pale blue shorts, a white top with the outline in pale blue of Mickey Mouse. Although Simon didn’t voice his disappointment to her face, he thought they were a little childish. His aunt had said she remembered how much of a fan he was of Mickey but he didn’t have the heart to say that was after their visit to Disneyworld when he was seven. Anyway, they sat unopened in their cellophane wrapper in his ‘pyjama’ draw in his new dresser. In fact, there had been some degree of satisfaction, now he had loads of space for his clothes, he was able to compartmentalise his stuff. He even decided that he’d keep everything nicely folded and not just shoved anywhere. His mother wondered just how long that resolution would last. However, clothes were hung up in the closet, the shelves were evenly stacked and his dresser drawers were a tribute to organisation... everything neatly put away. There were no clothes scattered around his new bedroom, even trainers and shoes were out of view. ~ It was a few months after his birthday and, as the nights began to get earlier, he eventually got round to using his new lava lamp for the first time putting it on early before he went to bed to get the flow moving. The new senior school had been difficult with the amount of homework he’d found excessive... everyone in his year was feeling the pressure. It felt like he was spending more and more time in his bedroom working on school projects; reading, copying, writing, calculating sums (show your workings), geography and history... everything had gone up several gears and he was finding the workload overwhelming. He’d hardly had time to play his video games and when opportunity arose often found himself falling asleep from exhaustion before finishing a level. Mind you, he did like his bedroom. With everything tidied away he was quite surprised at just how much space he actually had. Yes he was definitely growing up. He thought it was a pretty cool area and a lot better than some of his mates, which were smelly, messy and full of junk. However, this Friday night he’d got through masses of homework, had managed a few levels and watched a part of a funny movie called Boss Baby. He glanced over at the swirling lava lamp and as usual was intrigued at the way the globules of oil lifted and floated around the liquid. The dark blue ‘water’ set off with the glowing round pale blue blobs as they careered around the glass in various sizes. He sat mesmerised. After all that homework, which teachers seemed to pile on him for the weekend, he was glad of those gentle floating globules help him unwind. It brought back memories of when he was younger and they had one next to the TV. The yellow swirls and bubbles had left him transfixed on many occasions. In fact, it often held more interest than whatever was on screen at the time. However, his mother seemed to get more and more irritated by it, she didn’t see it as relaxing at all, something about it really irked her. Anyway, one day it was there the next gone. Now he had one of his own again was happy to be transfixed. It was a great present from Aunty Jane and made his room glow like it used to when he was a kid. Unlike his mother he did find it giving out a very relaxing vibe. The slow-motion way the waxy oily bubbles slid in a balletic way around the glass container had brought him down from the anxieties of the weekend homework he’d finally completed. As he gazed intently he noticed there were occasional twinkles dancing a sort of accompaniment to those slick orbs. A quick sparkle in the up-light that would glow and diminish in a split second - it looked pretty wonderful. The more he looked the more certain he was he saw images in those lava-like shapes. For a few moments he remembered a TV show called Teletubbies he’d watched as a pre-schooler where the sun had a baby’s face and was always happy – that’s what some of those bubbled images reminded him of. It was strange the way his mind wandered from one perceived kiddie likeness to the next. He wondered why the Boss Baby movie and Teletubbies had affected his thoughts so much; all the while being engrossed in those pretty amazing shapes as they floated and bounced off one and other. Shapes turned into faces and then returned to being just slowly circulating blobs. His mind was briefly distracted as he looked to the opposite end of the dresser and saw the pile of books he’d been busily revising from or doing homework in. If only he could revisit those days when no one bothered with such stuff - when it was just a matter of fun and play and schoolwork was a long way off. The thought hung in the air as once again childhood pursuits and cartoons filled his head with happy memories and a wishful desire for their return. Out the corner of his eye he saw several large sparkles in the lava lamp as the light caught whatever it was that twinkled in the liquid. It drew his attention and again those demanding books were forgotten as swirling shapes soothed his fretful mind from all those years of dreaded homework to come. The words of his mother returned. “Blue is the colour of emotion... to soothe and heal” It was getting late; actually it was only about 8.30 but he was feeling pretty whacked out from all the study he’d done and the slow flow of the lava had done its soothing duty. It was Friday night and he had the weekend to look forward to and, with all the school stuff done, hoped to enjoy the following couple of days with no worries. He changed out of his jeans and t-shirt and put on a pair of tartan cotton boxers and fished out an old loose cotton t-shirt he found comfortable to sleep in. He went downstairs to say ‘goodnight’ to his parents. They were a little surprised to see him ready for bed so early on a Friday and even commented on that fact but thought no more about it. However, what did shock his parents was that he actually kissed them ‘goodnight’, something he’d only done rarely over the last couple of years. “I’m too old to be kissing you guys” he’d said and that part of his childhood disappeared along with his need for toys and teddy bears. He got into bed and snuggled down under the cosy duvet. The lava lamp still maintained its reassuring radiance as the many silvery twinkles from the elements gave the impression of an enclosed galaxy, whilst the swirls of plasma induced a comforting and peaceful sleep. With his body and mind completely stress-free his thoughts scattered as he slipped into deep unconsciousness. Swirls of fuzzy blue light flooded his mind as cute, lava-shaped images flowed into his dreams. Teletubbies mixed with thoughts of earlier years; of playing on swings, building sand castles, in fact innocent of having anything to do but enjoy himself. ~ He woke up and knew he was gently trickling pee into his boxers; it didn’t seem to concern him. He was conscious of the fact that his full morning bladder was now soaking the bed and squirmed in the soggy sheets aware of doing something but not sure if this was usual. Even the clamminess was something he thought of as normal, whilst the smell of pee was leaving its own signature as he lay there waiting for his mummy. The urge to pee had felt natural. His mind and body were telling him it was OK and so he’d simply let go and let flow. For the briefest of seconds he wondered what he was doing but, the feeling that all was well and he shouldn’t worry took control of his thoughts. “Oh sweetpea... have you had a little accident?” His mother arrived moments later all concerned. The wet boy nodded as she pulled back his bedding... he needed his mummy to sort things out. Mummy? There was something different about mummy but he couldn’t work out what. “Perhaps we were too quick to get him out of nappies.” His worried father voiced as he came in to see if he could help. There was something different with daddy as well but again he couldn’t work out what... oh, except, why were they both in his bedroom and acting strange? “Now then John, he’s been a very good boy lately so we had to give him the chance... and he’s been as good as gold for the last few days haven’t you? Yes, yes, yes you have.” Helen beamed helping her son out of bed and then cajoled him out of his soaked boxers. For the moment Simon was gobsmacked not knowing what was going on. Well, he knew he’d pissed the bed but didn’t know why his parents were reacting like they were. It felt like they were treating him like a baby or special needs or something. He was embarrassed and didn’t want to reveal his wetness, but that had been taken away from him. He didn’t want his mummy taking his wet boxers down; that had also been taken away. “Mmmm perhaps I’ll get him some pull-ups to wear at night...” She said examining the wet evidence. Simon shivered at the idea but his boxers were soaked so couldn’t say much in his defence. “Or,” his daddy concluded, “we can simply put him back into nappies, seeing as how we’ve still got them packed away somewhere, and see how it goes.” He said as he stripped the soaked bedding. “Good job we left the mattress protector on that came with the new bed isn’t it? At least that’s one less thing to worry about.” Simon shuddered, and under normal circumstances would have angrily voiced his objections... but not this time. Meanwhile, mummy had taken him into the bathroom to clean up. For the past few moments Simon had only been partly aware of what was being said around him. Weirdly, wetting himself hadn’t seemed a problem at first, it was only now dawning on him what a disastrous thing to happen. A twelve year-old simply doesn’t wet the bed. Standing naked in the bathroom with his mother sponging him down suddenly became an embarrassing situation and he tried to shoo her out the room. “Mummy, erm, mum I can manage.” He heard himself say in a strange and pitifully childish voice. “Don’t be silly sweetheart, you haven’t to worry.” She said grabbing a towel and wrapping it around him holding his arms tightly to his sides as she dried him. “Plenty of boys your age have a few teething troubles after they’ve just learnt to use the potty.” “This is madness, why is she treating me like a kid?” thought Simon. “I’m twelve not two... I’ve not wet myself for nearly ten years... well... until just now... but that was an accident.” The problem was that it wasn’t an accident. He’d known he was letting his pee out as if it was the most natural thing in the world and did nothing to stop. In his head there was a dispute going on but in the end he simply acquiesced. However, he wasn’t going to admit that to his mummy, er, mum. Why did everything feel strange? ~ Whenever he thought to assert himself a weird ‘shiver’ enveloped his senses so his body and mind were telling him something different. It overrode any other instruction and made him submit. “Now do you need any help getting dressed?” His mother asked in a caring way. “Mummy, er, mum I’m old enough to dress myself...” The thing was he wasn’t sure if he could because he was shaking and confused. What the hell was happening and why were his parents acting so eccentrically? She was rummaging around in his dresser. “Well remember we’re going into town today to get you some new clothes... so, do you think you’ll be OK without your training pants?” Her tone was one of helpful enquiry. She held up his Spider-man briefs and a pair of thicker childish briefs he remembered wearing when he was three. How the hell did she still have them and what were they doing in his drawers now? This was weird and wondered what had gotten into her asking these stupid questions and acting like he was a toddler. He had no answer so just shrugged the confusion away and set off back to his room. The bed looked sad now the sheets and duvet had been removed. The waterproof sheet - ‘the mattress protector’ – looked as if it was accusing him of some dire deed. He walked over to the full length mirror still drying his naked body and stared wondering why he was feeling off-kilter. A naked twelve year-old boy stared back also wondering why it was feeling a little off-kilter. However, superimposed on that twelve year-old was a much smaller boy, a toddler... a blue-tinged toddler Simon recognised. ~ He closed his eyes, shook his head in disbelief and surreptitiously looked back. Only the twelve year-old was there this time and he sighed in relief. However, at that moment his mother arrived back in his bedroom carrying clean sheets and duvet cover. “Aren’t you ready yet? Well, I suppose you’ve had a bit of a set-back so... let’s get you organised first.” She scooped up the colourful padded training pants, bent down and held them open for him to step into. “Mummmm.” He said a little muddled but still complied. “I know sweetheart... you wanted to be out of these for good but... we don’t want you to have another accident when we’re out shopping now do we?” Why would he have an accident and more perplexing, why was he stepping into those training pants he hadn’t needed since he was three? He’d thought about not doing so but, like a child, did what his mummy and daddy told him. Why couldn’t he fight this, this... whatever it was? She wriggled them up his thighs and snapped the thick cartoon fabric around his waist. “And besides, they’re better than the nappy daddy would have you wear.” She smiled as if they were conspiring together. OK, this was getting stupid. He was a twelve year-old so a nappy was never going to happen even if he did just ‘accidentally’ wet the bed. However, for some reason, now he was wearing them, the thicker training pants seemed a good idea as his mummy reached into another drawer and pulled out a pale blue jumper with Mickey Mouse on the front. Simon laughed to himself. He must be dreaming or something, perhaps he hadn’t woken up yet and even the wet bed was all part of some ridiculous hallucination. He’d not seen that jumper since he was a tot so it would hardly fit now... She pulled it over his head and it fitted perfectly. “Now, do you want the shorts that match... or the new corduroys... blue or green ones?” She held up both pairs. “Er.” Simon recognised them from ages ago but didn’t get any time to consider which he wanted because he wasn’t going to wear kiddie shorts... or so he thought. “I think, as we’re going into town the cords will look smarter.” Again Helen bent down and opened them up for her son to step into. They had an elasticated waist so just tugged them up which, like his training pants, snugly fitted his waist. This was stupid, so it must be a dream. None of this stuff should be in his drawers never mind actually fit. He hadn’t worn anything like this since he was a two or three year-old. “Do you need any help with your socks and shoes sweetie?” Simon looked up and caught himself in the mirror – there was a fuzzy blue toddler wearing what he was wearing. Yet, when he looked down at himself, he saw a twelve year-old wearing a Mickey Mouse jumper and blue corduroy shorts. How come everything fit him so well? How come he was dressed as a toddler? How come...? This hallucination was getting more and more absurd. His mummy had sorted shoes and socks and waited for him to put them on. A strange chill spread through his body immediately followed by a warming flush. With his mother just a few feet away he could feel his training pants begin to fill up. He stood up and she noticed that look on his face she’d seen so many times before. “Ohhh sweetheart, are we a little late? Come here, now don’t cry, these things happen...” Simon didn’t realise it but he was sobbing... possibly out of guilt and embarrassment. Almost immediately his bum-hole opened up and deposited a full load in the rear of his training pants. He could do nothing except cry as his mummy hugged and patted his now expanded padded seat. Simon was beside himself, how could he, a twelve year-old crap his pants? He wondered if it was something he’d eaten but if so, when? Yet, as he was filling his pants he knew that he was doing so and there was no shame or anxiety there - well, to begin with. Again it just seemed so natural. It was all so baffling. What had happened to his parents? What were they involved in? Why were they treating him in such a way? How come...? This was madness but he had no idea what was happening... or why but no sooner had these thoughts entered his head than that enigmatic comforting blue haze seeped into his consciousness soothing and healing. His mummy looked uneasy, as if she’d made a decision she wasn’t really happy about. “Perhaps daddy was right on this occasion so... let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll start again.” ~ ...to be continued.