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Done Adulting, Volume 1 (Now available on Amazon with a preview of Volume 2)


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6 hours ago, Author_Alex said:

They were now walking back toward the entrance, passing through the reptile and amphibian section. Some were outside. The tortoises we’re apparently in heat, something none of them had, and the sound the male made with each … effort … gave them a good laugh, though Becky led Jamie away quickly.

I do have a video of this from years back, and it’s a pretty funny sound. About 12 thrusts a second, each with a long, low ooowwuuughoogh sound.

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Chapter 26 Part 1

 

Dear Cheryl,

I’m sorry I haven’t written more. The days are longer here, but somehow, they pass by quick. Not much time passes but that I’m wrapped up in something again.

 

I’ve started call Rebecca “Mom.” I feel that way about her now. The three of us, we feel like a family. We will never repay you for your role in bringing us together. You so perfectly matched us to one another

 

Amanda remains my person. She’s my hero and confidante and advocate. She’s not perfect, but she’s mine, and I’m hers. Whatever force moves the universe, it feels like we were meant to be together, and you did that.

 

Your first letter to me, I’ve memorized some of it. Do you remember what you wrote? ‘I cannot stand the thought of you again without love by your side all day and long night.’ I have that kind of love, Cheryl, because of you.

 

Amanda has a friend named Mel that I have a crush on. I can’t help it. She has red hair.

 

I started daycare recently, and it’s been a rough few days. It’s loud! At first there was no one to talk to except the receptionist and the big who’s in charge of me. I was afraid I’d be bored and alone there, even in a room full of littles.

 

Then I met a friend. I’d tell you her name, but I don’t think I’m supposed to. For some reason, it’s supposed to be a secret. All I know about her is she had some kind of back surgery and needs PT. Having her to talk to has made daycare tolerable so far.

 

I started seeing a therapist. I believe I have you to thank for that. And I am thankful. I’m not sure what the end-goal is, but I’m open to therapy. I do believe, like I always told my kids, talking solves problems.

 

We went to the zoo, and I saw all kinds of new things. Did you know Big Foot is real and that they have pet bears they call “dogs?”

 

There’s more to tell in time.

 

Cheryl, I miss you. The missing you is getting easier, though, and I hate that. I’ve gotten used to a lot, more than I can ever explain. I don’t want to get used to missing you. I want it to hurt, but I hope it doesn’t hurt for you.

 

It shouldn’t hurt you, for I’m in love with the people whose arms you placed me in. Remember that when times are hard. I’m happy because of you. I still struggle sometimes, but a kind word and a firm hug can dispel much more than I thought possible, at least for a moment, when it comes from the people I love and who love me.

 

Please tell me, Cheryl, how are you? What are your days like? Do you still shine when you smile? Are you happy? I think on our reunion. It warms me to anticipate your embrace again. Give me leave to hope you remember the feel of my arms, as I remember yours.

 

Your forever friend,

Jamie

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

“Manda, can you please mail this for me?”

 

“Sure, buddy. Who’s it to?” Jamie handed over the envelope. “Ah. Got it. What are you up to now?”

 

“Well, I have a business lunch at noon, but I might have to cancel that for a conference call. Other than that, my calendar is up to date, so feel free to drop some time on it if you need to meet about something.”

 

“Does Cheryl know you’re the most sarcastic little in San Siena?”

 

“She likes that about me, actually.”

 

“Well, I got nothing to do, and mom is out running errands. Why don’t we take a walk and drop this off, then maybe find some lunch?”

 

“Sounds like fun. Can you, uh, change me first?”

 

“You’re the boss.”

 

“Damn right I am.”

 

“Have you ever been tickled while being held upside down by one ankle?”

 

“So what do you want for lunch?”

 

“Thought so.” Amanda hopped off the couch and followed Jamie to his room. The summer was fast closing. Not many more weekends of warm weather. Even better, though, the autumn. Amanda looked forward to the fall and its crisp air and fun outfits. She especially looked forward to dressing Jamie in flannel and sweaters. She couldn’t help it; she didn’t mean to think of him like a doll, but she so loved making him look cuter than he already was.

 

Amanda picked Jamie up and laid him on the changing table. “You’re a little pink down here, buddy. Does it hurt or itch at all?”

 

“Both, a little. Not bad.”

 

“Well, that’s our fault. I’ll Mom know, and we’ll make sure you get changed more often until it clears up. Explains it, though.”

 

“Explains what?”

 

“I’d be a little grumpy, too, if I had a diaper rash.”

 

“I’m not grumpy!”

 

“I said ‘a little grumpy.’ Lift up for me.” Jamie lifted his hips, and Amanda slid the new diaper under. “Prepare to be slathered,” she said as she held up his ankles and smoothed an extra thick layer of nursery cream on his diaper area. Jamie couldn’t help but move his hips a little in response. “Feels good, huh? Have you ever had a massage?”

 

“Like from a professional? No.”

 

“Maybe we can do that after I pick you up one day this month. I know I could use one.” She sealed the tapes on his diaper and a sly grin came to her face.

 

“What?”

 

“I just thought of something new.”

 

“What?”

 

“Promise you won’t tell?”

 

Jamie looked around as if to make sure they were alone. “Sure.”

 

Amanda bent down as if to whisper something to him. Jamie wasn’t unsure what she was thinking.

 

“You listening real well?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What I wanted to say is pbbbbbbbtttt!” A dirty trick! Jamie squealed at her raspberry on his tummy.

 

“Manda! Hehehehe! Stop! Hehehehehe!” She relented after three.

 

“I can’t believe that hadn’t occurred to me months ago!” Jamie’s cheeks spread in his typical contented smile. When he laughed, it was a different kind of smile. The one he gave when he happy-warm inside was less expressive, unless you looked at this eyes. The wrinkles that formed at the corner his eyes said more than his lips.

 

“Better late the never. Maybe I ought to return the favor when you least expect it.”

 

“Guess that makes us ready to go,” she said as she put his shorts back on.

 

Jamie was getting to enjoy the stroller. He imagined this was what Roman nobility felt like being carried along on litters.

 

“Hey Amanda, tell me about school.”

 

“What do you want to know about school for?”

 

“Curiosity, and because I want to know more about you. Ya know, the you that I don’t see. I don’t even know what you’re studying.”

 

“Education, like Mom.”

 

“Why did you pick that?”

 

“A lot of reasons. It pays really well, it’s secure, you have lots of time off.”

 

“What about the job itself?”

 

“I like teaching. I’m not sure I want to teach kids, though.”

 

“You’d rather teach college?”

 

“Yeah … though … since you’ve been here I’ve been thinking about switching majors to Little Studies.”

 

“We’re a field of study?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What do you … I mean, how … what are they studying about us?”

 

“Lots of things. Medicine, psychology, education, recreation, social work. There’s even a legal discipline about littles.”

 

“Makes sense I guess.”

 

“So I’m taking my first Little Studies course now.”

 

“Do you like it?”

 

“I do. It’s interesting, kinda comparing what I know from you to the class materials.”

 

“Can I see your textbook some time?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Do I fit the mold?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Comparing me – do I fit what they’re teaching you?”

 

“In some ways. Not many, though. It’s only been a few class sessions. So far the class has only hinted at the idea of unregressed littles.”

 

“Maybe I should come to class.”

 

“I did tell the professor about you. He’d love to meet you.”

 

“I’d be okay with that.”

 

“And I told him no experiments if I did bring you.”

 

“Experiments?”

 

“Electric shock therapy, vivisection, those sorts of things.”

 

“Har har. Very funny.”

 

They were in downtown now next to the library. Amanda dropped the letter in a post office box.

 

“Can we go in?”

 

“To the library? Sure. I haven’t been in here in ages.” She pushed the stroller up the ramp, and the doors opened for them. She lifted him out and set him on his feet, and left the stroller along the wall with a half dozen others.

 

“Smells like the libraries back home.”

 

“Anything you want to look for?”

 

Jamie really just wanted to browse, but now that she asked, he considered what he wanted to know. A lot, he realized. For starters, where was he? He didn’t have a picture of his town, region, country, or planet. He didn’t know anything about San Siena or Tosca or Itali. He didn’t know about the people or the culture.

 

“Can we look at the history section?”

 

“Of course.” They approached the help desk. “Excuse me, can you point us toward the history section?”

 

“Sure. See those spiral stairs? Up there. There’s a storytelling session for little going on downstairs if you want drop him off while you browse,” the librarian replied.

 

“Actually, we’re browsing for him.”

 

“Oh! In that case there’s a more little-friendly history mini-section downstairs, too. Ya know, more pictures you can show him.”

 

Amanda smiled patiently. “Jamie, what do you think?”

 

“Do you have any books on unregressed littles?”

 

“Ohh. Sorry,” the librarian said as she turned red in the cheeks. “I didn’t mean to assume.”

 

“It’s okay,” Jamie said, “There’s not many of us.”

 

“Sorry anyway. Please let me know if I can help you find anything.”

 

“Thanks,” Amanda and Jamie said in unison.

 

The stairs she had indicated was a tight, wrought-iron staircase. Amanda had Jamie go first, and she boosted him along the way.

 

“Little accessibility isn’t a thing here, is it?”

 

“No. There’s an elevator we could have used.”

 

Jamie shrugged. They began browsing together and slowly drifted their separate ways until there were a few aisles between them. Books we’re little-accessible either. To bigs they were the equivalent of a standard paperback. To Jamie they were the size of coffee-table books, but thicker and heavier. He was also limited to the lower three shelves. He spotted a rolling step ladder in the corner and brought it over to a shelf of books on Itali history, locking the wheels in place carefully climb up to browse the spines.

 

He decided to take down one of the newer looking ones. He began to flip through it until his arms got tired holding it, so he sat down on a step and put the book in his lap, getting absorbed in a chapter on pre-historic Itali. The shadow of a big hand fell over the page and pulled the book away. Jamie looked up to see a blue-haired lady with a name tag tut-tutting as she put the book down.

 

“Honestly,” she said to no one, “so irresponsible. How about I help you find your mommy and help the two of you pick something out?” Jamie spotted a name tag. Another librarian. “Like a book on how to be a good big,” she muttered.

 

“Actually, I was hoping to find a self-help book on how to mind my own business.” It wasn’t that Jamie didn’t understand her heart was in the right place, just that she was being kinda rude and was talking like she couldn’t hear him.

 

Three aisles over, Amanda heard Jamie’s remark and said , “Oh, shit …” and started to quick step to wherever he was.

 

“And up on a ladder. Why not just put him on the roof,” the librarian continued. One those, Jamie realized, you don’t even hear me.

 

“Manda!”

 

“Coming!” If I can figure out which aisle you’re in.

 

“C’mon,” the woman said as she put her hands under Jamie’s arm pits and lifted him off the step. Jamie’s patience for being ignored was getting longer; where his patience ran out was being picked up by a stranger, especially one who didn’t even pay attention to what he said.

 

“Put me. The fuck! Down!” The F-bomb seemed to catch her attention as Amanda turned the corner.

 

“Is this your little?”

 

“Put him the fuck down like he asked, please,” Amanda said with her friendliest unfriendly voice and matching face. She set him on his feet, and Amanda brushed past the woman.

 

“You okay, Jamie?”

 

“Yeah.” Just my feelings hurt, as usual. “She’s one of those.”

 

“I can see that,” Amanda said, turning to the librarian. “Thank you for your concern.”

 

“You shouldn’t leave littles alone. He was on the ladder by himself.”

 

“Thanks, we got it,” Amanda replied. She turned back to Jamie. “Find anything you like?”

 

“Yes, that one.” She picked it up. “I’ve heard of this author. He supposed to be pretty good. Informative, but tells a good story.”

 

The woman interrupted, “I think you’ll find that book a bit much for bedtime reading. There’s a little section downstairs. He really shouldn’t even be up here.”

 

Her lips thinned and her eyes flashed wider. Wow, you’re still here, Amanda thought. Jamie saw the expression and knew what it meant on her. He reached over and touched her arm.

 

“Manda.” He shook his head. She let out the breath she was holding and her eyes softened.

 

“C’mon, let’s keep browsing.” She offered her hand and helped him down. Turning back to the woman she held his book and the one she’d found out. “Thank you, again. Do you mind taking those down the front desk for us? We’ll be down when we’re ready. Thanks.”

 

The woman looked irritated. Amanda wanted to ask her how it felt to have someone ignore you right to your face, but she wanted to respect Jamie’s wishes more. He didn’t want her to, so she didn’t. The two of them walked to another section, and the woman went downstairs with the books.

 

“Sorry,” Amanda offered.

 

“Shhh!”

 

Taken aback, Amanda asked, “What?”

 

“Shhh! We’re in a library,” Jamie stage-whispered. Amanda didn’t laugh a library-appropriate laugh.

 

They took the elevator back downstairs and went back to the front desk. The blue-haired lady was gone. The other librarian was still there.

 

“Find everything?”

 

“Everything for this trip.”

 

“You know there are some little books …”

 

“He can read!”

 

The woman let out a patient sigh. “Sorry. I meant there’s a section of books from where he’s from down in the little’s section.”

 

“Oh! I’m so sorry!”

 

“Don’t be. Mildred caught me up on what a “rude” woman and little we had upstairs. I get where you’re coming from.”

 

“Sorry just the same. Jamie, want to go check those out?”

 

“Yeah, that sounds great actually.”

 

“Back corner all the way to left.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

They walked downstairs through a corridor past darkened doors every forty feet. “Did this used to be a school,” Jamie asked.

 

“I think so.”

 

“Looks like it.”

 

They walked down a wide, short staircase into what looked like it had been the cafeteria. Everything was bright from the walls to the carpet to books. They turned the corner, and they both recoiled. Story time was being led guy in a clown costume. One little was hugging her knees while her clueless big rubbed her back. The rest just looked bored. They walked past the group to get to the back, catching a little of the clown’s performance.

 

“Woof,” Amanda remarked after they passed, “Someone over there stinks!”

 

“Yeah,” Jamie replied, “and someone’s got a loaded diaper, too.” Amanda snorted when she laughed.

 

They found the section the librarian told them about. It reminded Jamie of the book section at a charity-run resale shop. It was mostly board books, followed by a shelf split entirely between John Grisham and Tom Clancy.

 

“Wow,” Amanda said, “This Clancy guy must be a celebrated author.”

 

“Yeah,” Jamie responded, “Pudgy white guys in their 50s and 60s who’ve never been anywhere near a battlefield really think he’s the bee’s knees.”

 

“Sometimes I don’t know when you’re kidding.”

 

“Yeah ya do.”

 

On the last shelf in the section was an assortment of authors Jamie had heard of and hadn’t heard of, the grocery-store-quality romance novels in with some of the greats. Twain. Bellow. Whitman. Achebe. Morrison. Walker. Steinbeck. Baldwin. McEwan. Faulkner. Homer. Soyinka. Robinson. Mantel. Coelho. They appeared to never have been opened. Jamie picked a few he hadn’t read before, plus a couple he had.

 

“Jamie!” Startled, he turned around.

 

“Hi, Jenny! Manda, this is Jenny, from daycare.”

 

Manda got down to her level and introduced herself. “I like your dress.”

 

A big approached. “Mama, this is Jamie.”

 

“This is the famous Jamie? A nice surprise.”

 

“Nice to meet you …,” Jamie held out his hand.

 

“Grace. Jenny gushed about you last week.”

 

“I’m Amanda, Jamie’s sister.”

 

“I think I remember you from drop off.” Grace made a sympathetic face. “We’ve all had that day. Jenny tells me your brother is a great reader.”

 

“One of the best,” Amanda replied proudly.

 

“One of the only.”

 

Jenny didn’t care much to listen to them banter. “Jamie, will you read to me? That clown is scary and doesn’t read as good. He doesn’t do the voices.”

 

Grace blushed, “Sorry. I’m sure you guys are in a hurry. Jenny, how about you ask him again at daycare? How does that sound?”

 

Crummy, Jenny’s face replied.

 

“Actually, we’re not rushed today,” Jamie said. “Is it okay if I read one story ,Manda?”

 

“Of course,” she smiled.

 

Jenny handed him her storybook and took his hand, leading him to the carpeted area away from the clown. He sat down and began a story about cow that didn’t feel welcome at a barn dance because he was too heavy to dance and was worried the chickens and even the pigs would make fun of him. Plus he didn’t have anyone to dance with. Jamie’s depressed cow voice was spot on, as were his clucking chickens and supportive goats and a dumb donkey. The other littles heard him and left the clown by himself. Jamie felt bad for him.

 

He paused in his reading and whispered to Jenny, who walked over to the man and led him back by the hand. He sat on the carpet and listened. The bigs smiled at how cute that was and at how Jamie kept everyone’s attention and made them all laugh, even the bigs. When he was done, Jenny’s mom thanked him, and so did the rest of the littles and bigs.

 

Grace nodded toward Jenny to draw Amanda’s attention to the way she looked at Jamie. “She’s got a crush on him.”

 

“Who wouldn’t?”

 

“No kidding!”

 

The librarian behind the counter approached Amanda and Jamie and told them he could come read to the other littles whenever he wanted. She’d post it on the bulletin board if they let her know in advance. Jamie promised he would on occasion. Amanda beamed.

 

They checked out all of their books from upstairs and down and stashed the under the stroller. The big with the stinky little walked out of the changing room down in the corner, reminding Amanda she needed to check Jamie more often until his rash cleared up.

 

“How are you pants,” she whispered.

 

“Damp, I think.”

 

What does he mean ‘think,’ she wondered. “Let’s go take care of that.”

 

When he was up on the change table, Amanda used the time to deliberately follow through on Mary’s instructions. “That was a very nice thing you did.”

 

Jamie shrugged. “Sorta had to.”

 

“No, you didn’t. You did it because you’re a sweetie. And inviting the clown over was very kind. That’s one of the things I like so much about you; not everyone is like that. I’m proud of you.”

 

Jamie blushed. “And you were good at it. All those bigs were jealous of me.” She smiled to herself. She knew exactly how lucky she was.

 

“I’m ready for lunch. You?”

 

“Starving.”

 

Amanda helped him down, washed her hands, and the left.

 

They walked a block and had their choice of several restaurants on the same street. Amanda lifted Jamie so he could see the menu by the door.

 

“You guys imported Tex-Mex?”

 

Amanda chuckled. “After littles I think it’s everyone’s favorite thing about your dimension. You like it?”

 

“Uh, yeah I do.”

 

They got a booth with a booster seat, and soon there was queso and fresh chips on the table.

 

“I meant to thank you, Jamie, for stopping me from going off on that woman.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“I’m sorry so many people are like that.”

 

“I know, they’re just blind and deaf to me because they love littles so much and don’t know any unregressed ones.” Jamie rolled his eyes. Amanda caught the sign.

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

Jamie grimaced and said nothing, though is face darkened. Finally, he asked, “Am I a person here?”

 

“Of course you are.”

 

“Why … who treats other people that way? She made a mistake thinking I was regressed. I corrected her. It did zero good. She listened to you when you said literally the same thing I’d just said.” He paused, and Amanda could tell he just needed to rant.

 

“She treats me like I’m not even making words come out of my mouth and then lays her fucking hands on me like it’s no big deal. And that excuse, that whole ‘little blind’ stuff, is just bullshit. It doesn’t justify the way they treat me. It just reveals them to be bigots. They treat me like I’m inferior, like I don’t exist as a person they owe any courtesy to. I’m tired of being the one who nods patiently and says ‘It’s alright. I know they can’t help it.” They’re fucking grown-ups, aren’t they?  They can, too, goddamn help it!” He paused again before bringing his fist down on the table.

 

“I am not an infant! I am not disabled! I am not inferior! And I am not a goddamn puppy they can just manhandle!”

 

Now he looked done. “Feel better?”

 

He breathed out. “Yes.”

 

“You’re right.”

 

“I know I am.”

 

“Let’s talk about it again later.”

 

“Good.” Jamie rubbed his forehead a moment. “Not gonna let that ruin my day. It’s been great so far. Thanks for taking me out.” He was smiling again. He just needed to get that out of his system. Amanda understood because she wished she could as well, and she likely would when they got home, out of ear shot of Jamie. She knew she and her mother were not perfect, but they’d made a lot of progress, and the excuse they’d make for others was worn thin. It certainly didn’t convince Amanda anymore.   

 

“Thanks for coming with me. We can stop at the park on the way home if you want.”

 

“That sounds fun.”

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7 hours ago, Author_Alex said:

Jamie grimaced and said nothing, though is face darkened. Finally, he asked, “Am I a person here?”

 

 

 

“Of course you are.”

 

 

 

“Why … who treats other people that way? She made a mistake thinking I was regressed. I corrected her. It did zero good. She listened to you when you said literally the same thing I’d just said.” He paused, and Amanda could tell he just needed to rant.

 

 

 

“She treats me like I’m not even making words come out of my mouth and then lays her fucking hands on me like it’s no big deal. And that excuse, that whole ‘little blind’ stuff, is just bullshit. It doesn’t justify the way they treat me. It just reveals them to be bigots. They treat me like I’m inferior, like I don’t exist as a person they owe any courtesy to. I’m tired of being the one who nods patiently and says ‘It’s alright. I know they can’t help it.” They’re fucking grown-ups, aren’t they?  They can, too, goddamn help it!” He paused again before bringing his fist down on the table.

 

 

 

“I am not an infant! I am not disabled! I am not inferior! And I am not a goddamn puppy they can just manhandle!”

 

 

 

 

*nods in Trans and nuerodiverese*

Bigots gonna Bigot

Preach it dude

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4 hours ago, Shawnie said:

Good thing Jamie stopped Manda thought their was fixing to be gosh dang throw down in the library ???

Yeah I was afraid there were going to be librarians flying left and right and bookshelves crushing the unlucky and Jamie and Amanda tag teaming fools from staff and patrons.  It was going to be glorious but instead we got a kind moment of patient learning and a sad clown who got out story-told by a little and now I feel bad for the scary clown of doom.  Followed by exploding Jamie in his booster seat at a random restaurant.  Was a fun ride :)

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13 minutes ago, Sarah Penguin said:

Yeah I was afraid there were going to be librarians flying left and right and bookshelves crushing the unlucky and Jamie and Amanda tag teaming fools from staff and patrons.  It was going to be glorious but instead we got a kind moment of patient learning and a sad clown who got out story-told by a little and now I feel bad for the scary clown of doom.  Followed by exploding Jamie in his booster seat at a random restaurant.  Was a fun ride :)

I think Jamie has been especially patient. Maybe Amanda could get him a shirt that says “Don’t Touch! He BITES!!!”

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27 minutes ago, Author_Alex said:

think Jamie has been especially patient. Maybe Amanda could get him a shirt that says “Don’t Touch! He BITES!!!”

Ummm... This story makes me think of a story i might write. Like the main character be one of those mean Amazons and one day she wakes up and everyone is treating her just like a little, even though she's obviously not. In the end it could have just been like a dream or maybe she had been accidentally given some new drug that made her hallucinate it all. But it would be an interesting story to write.

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6 minutes ago, Guilend said:

Ummm... This story makes me think of a story i might write. Like the main character be one of those mean Amazons and one day she wakes up and everyone is treating her just like a little, even though she's obviously not. In the end it could have just been like a dream or maybe she had been accidentally given some new drug that made her hallucinate it all. But it would be an interesting story to write.

Go write it! 

If you’ve never tried, this is your chance. 

Writing is the single most important human innovation, right after story telling.

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7 hours ago, Author_Alex said:

Go write it! 

If you’ve never tried, this is your chance. 

Writing is the single most important human innovation, right after story telling.

Lol i actually have one story I'm already writting. The first 17 chapers are here on Daily Diapers. The story is called The Most Unusual Amazon. I haven't posted a new chapter in a long time, but i have up to chapter 22 or 23 written, i just have some stuff in real life I'm going through. I'll finish it as soon as i can.

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Chapter 26 Part 2

 

 

 

“Walk or stroller?” Another perk of the stroller: he didn’t have to walk after eating so much food. He’d be comatose if he ate that much little food.

 

 

“Stroller,” he burped.

 

 

“Ha! Need a tummy rub?”

 

 

“That’s actually sounds like a horrible idea.”

 

 

“Good, cuz I was joking.” She got him in and started walking toward the park. It really was a perfect day outside. One of those halfway days between summer and autumn when the temperature is perfect and the air is not too humid or too dry. How many of those are there in a year? Six? Seven?

 

 

“We can go straight home if you want.”

 

 

“No, it’s too nice out, and I really should get a little bit of exercise.”

 

 

The park was pretty full, the playground a zoo. With no open bench, they sat on the grass and talked.

 

 

“You ready for another week of daycare?”

 

 

“I guess. It wasn’t so bad after Ella showed up.”

 

 

“You figure out what her deal is yet?”

 

 

“No. I’m not sure there’s a polite way to ask. She did show me her scar.”

 

 

“Where is it?”

 

 

“Along her spine. I don’t know where it stops, but it starts at her neck. Her hair covers it. She didn’t say what it was from, but that could be because you and Mom showed up right then.”

 

 

“Does she seem shy about it?”

 

 

“Not exactly. She just doesn’t talk about it. I wouldn’t have even thought to ask except she walks a little slow and seems to get tired easily.”

 

 

“Was she glad to see another unregressed little?”

 

 

“I guess? She’s pretty subdued all the time.”

 

 

“What else do you know about her?”

 

 

“She’s an artist. Or at least she studied art in college. That’s all I know.”

 

 

“How’s everything else there?”

 

 

“The headphones really help. It’s just loud there. I guess I’m getting used to it. Sorta worried about winter when we can’t be outside all the time.”

 

 

“Cross that bridge when we come to it.”

 

 

“I guess the real issue is every day is the same. Imagine being retired and being in the same place doing the same things every day with no end in sight. Read, draw, go outside, repeat.”

 

 

“Yeah, Mom’s been trying to find some kind of program where you’re not always there. Maybe like one day a week or something.”

 

 

“Like what?”

 

 

“Like maybe an in-home daycare with a smaller group, or a field trip program.”

 

 

“Field trips sound fun.”

 

 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind going on a field trip once a week. Problem is there aren’t any that goes anywhere you would like, at least that we’ve found so far.”

 

 

“I think I’m ready to get up.”

 

 

“Wet or dry,” Amanda asked .

 

 

“Wet, I think.”

 

 

Amanda’s brow wrinkled. “What does ‘I think’ mean? You’re not...”

 

 

“No! I’ve just gotten so used to going whenever that I don’t always remember if I went or not.” She flet his crotch through his shorts and found him damp.

 

 

“I still think this is good for you, but I don’t want you to actually start needing these.”

 

 

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

 

 

“Well, we’ll pay attention to it.” She looked at the line to the changing room.

 

 

“We can wait in line or do this out here.”

 

 

“Out here?” Jamie looked incredulous. In an open field?

 

 

“We did it at the beach, twice. That looks like at least a 20-minute line, besides it won’t take long.”

 

 

“Fine. Quickly, though, please.” He laid back and let Amanda do her thing.

 

“Feels good,” he said.

 

 

“The cream?”

 

 

“The air.”

 

 

“Well, that’s the best thing for a diaper rash.”

 

 

Jamie sat up on one elbow. “Not going nude at the park.”

 

 

“I meant at home.”

 

 

“Oh,” he said, laying back down. “Maybe.”

 

 

With his shorts back on, Jamie sat up. “Whatcha wanna do?”

 

 

Jamie looked at the field and tag game. He didn’t really want to get all sweaty on top of the irritation he already had down there.

 

 

“Maybe just go on the playground, climb around a bit.” It was crowded but he’d make do. He didn’t need much.

 

 

“Want me to come with you?”

 

 

“No, that’s okay.”

 

 

The two of them walked over to the playground and Jamie disappeared into the crowd while Amanda stood off the path with the stroller and struck up a conversation with another young woman.

 

 

“Which one is yours?” The woman looked around trying to spot her little.

 

 

“Her, in the hat,” she said pointing. “I’m Alice.”

 

 

“Amanda. My guy is ... the one hanging from the bar behind the thing,” she said when she saw him through the crowd.

 

 

“Is he yours?”

 

 

“My little brother.”

 

 

“My little sister.” They talked about the joy of having a little sibling in their lives.

 

 

Jamie was using the monkey bars and climbing up the slide and doing what he could to get a little exercise without getting too sweaty. The day was working against him, not because it was too hot but because he had a belly of heavy food and the perfect temperature and air were making him sleepy. After one more pass down the monkey bars, he dropped down and went to go lay on the grass for a moment. So many people were around he had to walk a little further to feel comfortable no one would step on him, especially a little. He only needed to go ten feet outside the playground boundaries. He turned to make sure he could still see Amanda and waved. She waved back.

 

 

Jamie laid down with his knees up and crossed one leg over the other with his hands behind his head. He could feel the leaves move, letting sunlight fall and pass back and forth over him in the breeze, the shade and light running warm and warmer over his body.

 

 

He started to doze when the sunlight suddenly went away. He opened his eyes to find a big child standing in his sunlight.

 

 

“Hello,” Jamie ventured. The kid was probably about a foot-and-a-half taller than Jamie, with a heavier build.

 

 

“Hi.” Jamie guessed he was about six; he seemed to speak fine, but he did have an accent, though, his ‘Hi’ coming out ‘Hiy.’

 

 

“They stared at each other for a moment. Jamie hadn’t interacted with a big child yet. It was an odd feeling knowing this person towering over him was 20 or more years his junior.

 

 

“Vhat are yoo duing?”

 

 

“Just resting.”

 

 

“Oh.”

 

 

“Do you want to sit down?”

 

 

“No. I vunt to playe with you.”

 

 

“That’s very kind of you, but …” The boy grabbed Jamie by the arm and yanked him right from the ground. He was tall enough and strong to pick Jamie up, but not strong enough carry him without wrapping both arms around Jamie’s middle and waddling away.

 

 

“Put me down!” Jamie said it as loud as he could. “You’re hurting me!”

 

 

The boy turned to walk away from the playground, and Jamie saw a half dozen bigs running toward him. Jamie was relieved to see it, but it didn’t change that this boy was squeezing him too tight and hurting his spine.

 

 

Jamie cocked a fist back with his brain screaming “MORAL DILEMMA! MORAL DILEMMA!” He only had to wait a moment before one of the bigs reached him. The boy was losing his grip and tossed Jamie upward to reset his arms around his waist and digging into his lower back even harder. His brain screamed “DO IT ANYWAY!” With a face half pained by what was being done to him and half pained by what he was about to do, he threw his fist as hard as he could at the boy’s eye, connecting just to the left of his target, catching the boy half in the eye and half on the bridge of his nose.

 

 

The boy stumbled backward, dropping Jamie, who twisted his ankle as he fell. Some big stepped around the boy and picked Jamie up in his arms. Before he was even settled, Amanda appeared and snatched him away, the man seeing she was his and letting him go. Amanda put her hand on the back of Jamie’s head and gently pushed his cheek to her should, gently bouncing and shushing him. A crowd was forming. Amanda turned away, and suddenly there was were two bigs, a man and a woman, just behind Amanda. The man looked angry; the woman looked concerned, dodging around Amanda to pick up her crying child.

 

 

The man had a finger pointing at Jamie and had his mouth open to say something when someone new stepped between them, shouting, “Back up!” Amanda spun back around. Now Jamie was facing the boy and his mother, her cooing at him. Behind the woman was a semi-circle of bigs and some littles. The littles looked scared. Some of the bigs look on calmly but clearly angry. A few looked livid.

 

 

The woman said something unintelligible; the boy was quietly crying. The man started shouting. Amanda stepped away from all of them.

 

 

“Are you okay?!? Oh, I’m so sorry,” she sniffled. “I’m so so sorry.” She was squeezing him nearly as tight as the boy had. Jamie could survey the whole scene from where she stood, and he was wide eyed. The crowd was standing there. The woman was rocking her child. One man was shouting in too thick an accent for Jamie to understand. Another man, Jamie guessed the who had picked him up, was speaking firmly but not shouting, trying to get the other one to stop shouting.

 

 

The foreigner threw down his hands in disgust and stomp-marched toward Amanda, the other man right next to him and looking ready to toss the foreigner on his ass. The mother walked over slowly with a thin, insincere smile.

 

 

Amanda shifted Jamie to her hip and turned half-profile, keeping most of herself between the man and Jamie, with the man between them and the angry dad. Jamie could see nearly everyone had their phone out recording what was happening. Cognizant of the big nearly as angry as he was standing right next to him, the foreigner stopped five feet shy and kept his hands at his sides, loudly asking, “Vell!?!”

 

 

The woman reached the group and stood part way between her husband, smiling an insincere smile meant to de-escalate the situation. “He fine! He fine,” she said. Patting her husband on the arm. The rage drained from his face, leaving just anger. He said something in a foreign language, and she answered.

 

 

The woman turned to Amanda and tried to explain, “He don’t know his own strength. He very sorry.”

 

 

The man said something to his wife in the other language and turned back to Amanda. “Does not matter. He hit my boy.”

 

 

Amanda found her voice, the calmest angry version of it she could manage. “He was defending himself! Don’t you know better than to let a kid his age near littles? Where were you?”

 

 

“Does not matter! He’s little.”

 

 

“It fucking does matter here!”

 

 

“In my country, we would fix him so he never can hit again!” He ended the sentence with some angry foreign word, though whether it was directed at Amanda or Jamie they couldn’t tell. The Itali man edged closer.

 

 

The woman tried again, saying something to her husband and then to Amanda. “Is misunderstanding. You punish him. We watch. No police needed.”

 

 

Jamie saw Amanda’s eyebrows do that thing where they look like they’re trying to escape. Jamie couldn’t understand all of what she started screaming, but he got the gist. The couple started shouting back, and the man put himself between them, shouting over the others trying to get them to calm down.

 

 

A police office parted the crowd and approached. Jamie wondered who called him. His presence turned the screaming back into shouting, which he added to. “Step back! Step! Back! SHUT UP!!” Now everyone was quiet. He reached to the mic on his shoulder. “11-32 to KGA. I need two additional units on scene.”

 

 

The mic crackled back, “KGA to 11-32. Two additional units are en route.”

 

 

The officer turned to Amanda. “Is this your husband, Miss?”

 

 

“Um, no.”

 

 

“Sir, I’m gonna need you to wait right over there … Yeah, right there.”

 

 

“And sir,” he said to the purple-faced father, “Can you please take your family right over there.” He pointed a few yards away. “Be with you in a moment.”

 

 

Amanda’s adrenaline was running out, and she was shaking, her eyes full of water. The officer turned back to Amanda, “What’s your name, Miss?”

 

 

“A-man-da,” her voice quavered.

 

 

“Amanda, I’m Brett. What’s this little guy’s name?”

 

 

“Jam-ie.”

 

 

“Everything’s fine, miss. Deep breath. There you go. Hi, Jamie. I’m Brett.”

 

 

Jamie stuck out his hand. Not his first or even his fiftieth interaction with a cop in circumstances like this. “Jamie.”

 

 

The cop looked from Jamie to Amanda. “He’s …”

 

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

Jamie said for himself, “I am.”

 

 

Brett bent forward a little to get closer to Jamie. “Are you alright?”

 

 

“Twisted my ankle when he dropped, but it’s gonna be fine.”

 

 

The second officer arrived. “Brett, what’s up?”

 

 

“Hey, Nancy. Not quite sure yet. Can you get a statement from that couple over there?” Nancy walked over to them.

 

 

“Alright, Amanda? Jamie? Can you tell me what’s going on?”

 

 

“Brett.” A third officer approached.

 

 

“Hey, Lester. Can you find out who called this in and start getting statements from those folks? Him first,” Brett added, pointing to the man

 

 

“Sure thing.”

 

 

“Amanda,” Jamie whispered. “Don’t be scared.” Jamie was, though. He knew how this ended: Marsha would be over at their house within a few hours, probably with a cop waiting down the block, assuming Amanda was negligent unless they could prove otherwise. He didn’t expect to be separated from her, but standard protocol would be a remedial parenting class, more random visits, and likely restrictions on Amanda being alone with Jamie outside the home until the remedial class was done and Marsha was content. Gears started turning in Jamie’s head to guarantee a better outcome: Marsha just walking away.

 

 

Amanda closed her eyes and put her lips to Jamie’s forehead for seven full seconds, then pulled him closer. Before she could pull away, he whispered into the ear away from Officer Brett, “Take out your phone and hit record.” Amanda looked at him for a split second and surreptitiously did as he told her, furtively pointing the camera up so that it caught at least some angle of the three of them.

 

 

Brett gave them a second. “Is Jamie your little, Amanda?”

 

 

“My brother.”

 

 

“Do you have legal guardianship over Jamie?”

 

 

“I have surrogate guardianship.”

 

 

“Okay. Can you tell me what happened here?” Amanda opened her mouth, but Jamie jumped in first.

 

 

“The two us were on that bench,” he pointed, “And I decided to go play on the swing set. Amanda asked if I wanted her to come, and I said I’d be fine on my own. She follows me to the playground and stood there,” he pointed.” She watched me the entire time. I kept turning around to wave at her through the crowd, and each time she waved back. Then I sat down in the grass there,” he pointed again, “and waved to Amanda again, and she saw me and waved back. Amanda knew exactly where I was at all times, and I knew where she was at all times. Amanda and I both felt safe as I was near many bigs who were attentive to all of the littles nearby to keep us all safe, and Amanda was close by as well. I laid back, and that boy,” he pointed, “came and stood over me. He asked me what I was doing, and I invited him to sit down. He said he wanted to play with me and grabbed me by the arm and picked me up in a bear hug and started to walk away with me. I saw Amanda was already sprinting over to rescue me, and I shouted for help. At least six bigs heard me and came running toward me. Still fearing for my safety, with the boy inflicting severe pain to my spine, and believing I would be badly injured before a big could reach me, I struck the boy using as little force as necessary to get away. He dropped me and hurt my ankle. That man,” Jamie pointed again, “picked me up and Amanda got there at the same time and took me from him  and made sure I was safe. Then that couple,” he pointed, “arrived, and the husband started screaming. That man,” he pointed once more,” put himself between Amanda and the couple, and Amanda turned so that she was between me and the man. I felt safe as soon as Amanda picked me up. The woman came over and said her son was fine, and then her husband said in his country I would be fixed so I couldn’t ever hit anybody again, and then the wife said that wasn’t necessary and that they would watch while Amanda punished me and then there’d be no need to call the police. That’s when you arrived on the scene and de-escalated the situation.”  Brett was taking down notes as fast as he could. “Excellent work, Officer,” Jamie added.

 

 

“Ugh, that’s a very through description. Amanda, anything to add to that?”

 

 

“No. That’s exactly what happened.” With some harmless truth shading.

 

 

“I’ll be right back. Wait here, please.” Brett walked toward the middle of the square they had formed, with Jamie and Amanda in one corner, the mystery man in another, the crowd in the other, and the couple in the last. Nancy walked toward Brett. They kept their voices down.

 

 

“What’s their version,” Brett asked.

 

 

“They say the little attacked their son.”

 

 

“Just out of the blue?”

 

 

“No, they said their son picked up the little and started walking away with him. They saw the little shout something but couldn’t hear what, and then the little socked their son in the face.”

 

 

Brett scoffed. “And they’re characterizing that as an attack?”

 

 

“Yeah. And saying the boy is hurt.”

 

 

“Is he?”

 

 

“Shit, no. Eye looks a puffy but isn’t even black or anything.”

 

 

“Take pictures when you go back over there.”

 

 

“Already done,” Nancy said, “And the jackass wants to press charges, if you can fucking believe that.”

 

 

“Press charges against who?” Brett shook his head incredulously. “There’s no one to press charges against.”

 

 

“The little. Says where they’re from if a little strikes a big, the little’s regressed to the point where they can’t make voluntary movements, like a newborn literally right out of the womb. Says it’s just like if a dog bites a person, the dog is put down.”

 

 

Brett’s face grew tight and his features twisted into disgusted rage. “Where are they from?”

 

 

“Ros.”

 

 

Brett huffed. “They fucking would say that bullshit. What do they say they’re doing here?”

 

 

“On holiday.”

 

 

“You believe that?”

 

 

“Awfully clumsy way to kidnap a little.”

 

 

“For a six-year-old. It would be good cover to have a kid around. Maybe the kid thought he was helping them.”

 

 

“If that was the case, why stick around to argue? If it were you, wouldn’t you have apologized and gotten the hell out of here?”

 

 

“Fair point. Still, we’ll let the bosses handle it.”

 

 

“Should we get a Littles detective on scene?”

 

 

Lester joined them. “That woman over there was filming her little and got the whole thing in the background.” They watched the video. Two seconds elapsed between the boy approaching Jamie and picking him up. Less than one before Jamie shouted and all the bigs starting running over. Another one before Amanda ran past the woman filming at full speed. Less than one before Jamie punched the boy. And less than one before the man picked up Jamie, and a split second before Amanda took him. All told, about 4-and-a-half seconds.

 

 

“That’s exactly what the little said happened. What’s the other man say,” Brett nodded over his shoulder the mystery man.

 

 

“Name’s Marcus. He saw the boy pick the little up and ran over to separate them. Little nailed the kid and got dropped just before he could reach them. Then he got in between that father and the little and the girl because the father was acting like he was gonna start some shit.”

 

 

“What’s he doing here?”

 

 

“Just walking through the park.”

 

 

“Anyone else got it on video?”

 

 

“Just the one has the whole thing. Eight have the aftermath. I already got all the videos and everyone’s ID.”

 

 

“Everyone’s? Even the ones without video?”

 

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

“Alright. Nancy, could you take them to the station? Call the desk lieutenant and tell him you’ll need a littles detective, a state’s attorney and Immigration to get that process stated.”

 

 

“You sure you don’t want a detective here?”

 

 

“Nah, we’ll finish taking statements. Detectives can follow up if they need to. Ask them if they want to take the boy to the hospital first. If they say yes, then have a detective meet you there.”

 

 

“Lester, send me that video and then get all those statements.”

 

 

Lester scoffed the way only a fed up cop can. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

 

 

“What is?”

 

 

“Boy touches a little, and every witness stays on the scene and wants to give a statement. Everyone turns into a squirrel when it’s a dealer laid out on the pavement. Seems kinda backwards, don’t it?”

 

 

“No,” Brett answered with no respect for the younger officer’s perspective. “People here are doing the right thing, and if you lived in those other neighborhoods you wouldn’t be doing any witnessing, either.”

 

 

“Right,” Lester said, clearly not impressed. He sent the video to Brett and went back to the crowd. Brett shook his head and went back to Amanda and Jamie. Amanda had stopped shaking and was now just very tired.

 

 

“Someone in the crowd got the whole thing on …”

 

 

“Can you send it to us, please? Right now?” Jamie knew video didn’t always make a difference; rarely did in some kinds of cases, but he wanted his own evidence.

 

 

“Sure.” He handed Amanda his phone, and she sent it to herself. She was still recording.

 

 

“Anyway …”

 

 

“Wait,” Jamie interjected again. Brett looked annoyed. “Is the boy alright? I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

 

 

The officer gave Jamie a weary smile. “He’s fine.” Amanda weakly smiled. She still looked afraid.

 

 

Jamie breathed a purposefully visible but genuine sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

 

 

“Anyway,” Brett began again, “the video corroborates your version of events. Nancy there is going to take them down to the station house and the state’s attorney will decide what to do with them.”

 

 

“Like what?”

 

 

“They’ll probably be charged with endangering a child, endangering a little, disturbing the peace, and menacing a little. Shit, ya’ll want to make some stuff up, I’ll back it. Throw that dad in jail at least.”

 

 

“They’ll go to jail?”

 

 

“No, unlikely. The charges will stay on file, and they’ll be deported within two days. They’ll go on the Alliance watchlist and won’t be able to travel to any member countries. If they do and get caught, they’ll be extradited back here, and the charges will move forward.”

 

 

“What happens to us,” Amanda asked.

 

 

Brett sighed and looked sorry as he could be. “I’m sorry. I gotta call DLS.” Amanda looked terrified again and started to hyperventilate.

 

 

“BUT!” Brent said as quickly as he could, “I’m gonna take you home and stay with you until they’re done. Everything’s gonna be fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, either of you. I’m not gonna let anyone get carried away. I’m responding officer on the scene; my version goes in the official report. Time I’m done explaining this to the social worker, you’re gonna get a medal. Promise. Do you believe me?”

 

 

Amanda nodded a tearful, “Yes.”

 

 

Jamie nodded a professional, “Thank you,” and held out his hand again. Brett shook it.

 

 

“Do you guys have a car here?”

 

 

“We walked.”

 

 

“Even easier. I’m parked over there.” They started walking back toward the playground.

 

 

“Could you make sure that man hears how grateful we are?”

 

 

“Of course. Lester! I’m gonna take them home. Hit me up on the radio when you’re done here.”

 

 

As they walked across the playground, first one and then ten bigs started to applaud. It surprised Jamie. He wondered if they’d still be doing that if the boy and his family were Italis. 

 

In any case, he was heartened to see the protective reaction of every Big in the vicinity. It made him respect them more, even knowing some likely would see through him. Perhaps not now, though.

 

“I can walk, Amanda.”

 

 

“No.” She just squeezed him tighter. She wasn’t concerned about his ankle, or at least that’s not why she said no.

 

 

When they got home, Amanda offered Brett a glass of water. He declined. “I gotta make this call if you guys want to go freshen up and call your mom.”

 

 

Amanda took Jamie to his room. “I gotta … if you want to go wash your face first.”

 

 

“Yeah.” She put gently on his feet, making she he could stand without her. His ankle wasn’t even swollen.

 

 

“Manda,” Jamie said, grabbing her shirt as she turned away, “It’s really gonna be fine. You’re my hero.” She smiled at him with her eyes closed for a moment and went to the bathroom. Jamie wasn’t prone to using dramatic words like that, but he figured it would help her feel better, and anyway, that’s how he was going to play it with Marsha the social worker. He did what he needed to do and waited for Amanda to get back.

 

 

When she did, she put him on the table and silently got to work cleaning him up.

 

 

“Manda, you remember what I told Brett about how it happened.”

 

 

“I think so.”

 

 

“You remember I waved at you multiple times, and you waved back?”

 

 

“You waved the once, and I waved back.”

 

 

“Hey, stop for a second.” She looked at him.

 

 

“I waved at you multiple times, and you waved back. Remember now.” She nodded her head quickly.

 

 

“Can you say it, please?”

 

 

“You waved at me multiple times, and I waved back.”

 

 

“You never lost sight of me.”

 

 

“I never lost sight of you.”

 

 

“You were never more than 30 feet from me.”

 

 

“I was never more than thirty feet from you.”

 

 

“You were your sprinting to me before any of the other bigs even noticed.”

 

 

“The video doesn’t show that.”

 

 

“The video doesn’t not show it, either. You were sprinting to me as soon as the kid walked up to me.”

 

 

“I was sprinting to you as soon as the kid walked up to me.”

 

 

“You reached me right after that man did.”

 

 

“I know.”

 

 

“You put yourself between me and that lunatic.”

 

 

“I know.”

 

 

“You defended me.”

 

 

“I know.”

 

 

“So stop crying. You didn’t do anything wrong. I mean it. Absolutely nothing wrong.”

 

 

Amanda closed her eyes and let out a sob, sucking air back in in bursts. “I was so scared.”

 

 

“I wasn’t, because you were there.” Amanda finally took a full breath and opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling. She finished her task. Jamie sat up.

 

 

“C’mere.” If Jamie could have picked her up, he would have. Instead she picked him, and they clutched each other to one another. Jamie pushed back after. He still had a situation to manage.

 

 

“Call Mom and give me your phone, then go ask Brett to move his cruiser around the corner.” She dialed and handed him the phone, then went to the kitchen to ask Brett to move the car.

 

 

“Mom? Hi! Yeah, Manda and me had a great time today. You know she’s my hero, right. I love her very, very much. Ha, you too. How far from home are you? Oh, good. That’ll be good. Ugh, listen, I’m fine and so is Manda. Understand? No … Mom? … Mom? … Mom! Deep breath with me. Heeeeehoooooo. Good. Good. We had a little incident at the park today. Nothing major. I promise. I promise. Well, a big child grabbed me. Mom? … Mom? … MOM! I’m fine! I promise. I wasn’t in any danger. No. No. No, Amanda was right there. The whole thing was over in a few seconds. Really ... No, really. MOM! When you get here, there’s going to be a policeman in the kitchen.”

 

 

Jamie held the phone away his ear.

 

 

“MOM! … MOM! … MOM! Everyone is fine. He’s a wonderful guy. Marriage material, really. No, not a good time to be making a joke. Yes, it’s a bad time. A very bad time. No, you’re right. Mom … Mom … MOM! Someone at the park called them, and he drove us home. He called DLS. Marsha’s probably going to be over here soon probably. It’s standard procedure. No, really, nothing bad is going to happen. Mom … MOM!”

 

 

He lowered his voice.

 

 

“I’ve done this a couple hundred times. Nobody did anything wrong. It’s no one’s fault. Amanda did everything right. The cop is on our side. Marsha will be in and out of here in less than an hour. Promise. Drive safe. Love you, too.”

 

 

He hung up and rubbed his eyes. “Fucking hell, I need a cookie. A triple,” he said to no one.

 

 

Amanda came back. “She’ll be home in a few minutes. What’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing you have for me to wear?”

 

 

Which is how Jamie ended up wearing baby blue footies with a hood and bunny ears. Jamie splashed a little baby powder under his arms and across his chest and butt to make the smell match the attire, and then clipped his pacifier to his outfit. They went to the bathroom where Amanda scrubbed his face and teeth and combed his hair. They went out to the living room where Brett was coming back inside.

 

 

He saw Jamie and chuckled.

 

 

“Good thing Amanda was never more than thirty feet from me, right Brett.”

 

 

“Definitely. She saved the day. You look … cozy.”

 

 

“Manda, can you please make me a bottle?”

 

 

“Sure.”

 

 

When they were alone, Brett leaned close to Jamie and said, “You done this before?”

 

 

“I used to be a social worker. So yeah, done this a lot. We should wait in the kitchen.”

 

 

“Why?”

 

 

“Just talked to my mom. She might drive into the living room.”

 

 

She didn’t, but she nearly took the door from the garage into the kitchen off its hinges. She had Jamie in her arms before he could even think ‘hello.’ She held one arm out for Amanda to join.

 

 

“Smile,” Jamie said.

 

 

“What?”

 

 

“Smile. You saved the day, and you’re happy. And Mom, your daughter who you trust with my life saved the day, and you’re the proudest mom ever. And make an ice pack.”

 

 

Brett shook his head. The little was leaving nothing to chance.

 

 

Marsha arrived shortly after. Her greeting was all business. Jamie understood that. He didn’t begrudge it. He’d done the same thing, and he’d been trained, like she had, to be skeptical.

 

 

“Marsha, been a while.”

 

 

“Yeah, it has, Brett.”

 

 

“Let me give you the run down.”

 

 

Becky, Jamie, and Amanda waited in the living room. “Amanda, lay on the couch with me on top of you, and feed me that bottle. Mom, put that ice on my ankle … The other one.”

 

 

They heard the video playing and caught snippets of Brett’s commentary. “Whole thing took less than five seconds … witnesses say she was never more than thirty feet from him … never lost sight of each other … didn’t hesitate to put herself between Jamie and that man; he was acting like he was going to get violent … she walked away from him and got Jamie somewhere safe … bystander put himself between Amanda and that guy … that’s when I got there … have you ever known me to do anything to put a little or a child in danger? … right … if I were you, I’d give her a medal … wish I had a sister like that.”

 

 

Brett thought he was laying it on even thicker than Jamie, until they went into the living room and found him “sleeping” on Amanda’s chest with a bottle in his mouth. “See,” he whispered, “She’s his hero.”

 

 

Marsha knelt down in front of the sofa and whispered, “How’s his ankle.” Becky moved the icepack, and smiled.

 

 

“It’s fine. Just a precaution.”

 

 

“Brett showed me the video. I want you to know, Rebecca, your daughter was a hero today. I wish every one of my littles had a sister like her.” She turned to Amanda. “You’re awesome, sweetie. I’m so glad he has you.”

 

 

“He’s my guy,” Amanda smiled, running her fingers through her hair. No need to act.

 

 

“I’m gonna get out of your hair. I’ll make sure those other people are dealt with the right way.”

 

 

“You’re a blessing, Marsha.”

 

 

“Just my job.”

 

 

She left, and Brett followed her out the door, turning in time to see Jamie open one eye and search the room with it. He made sure Marsha was out of hearing distance. “Ya’ll make a good team.”

 

 

“We are a good team,” Jamie said. “Thanks for everything. Really.”

 

 

“My pleasure.” He came back in. “I’ll leave you my card, in case you need anything.”

 

 

“Thank you,” Rebecca said, her voice weak.

 

 

“Thank you so much,” Amanda said, not smiling when she said it.

 

 

“Hey,” Brett said, “You did everything right, understand? I’d be doing this a whole other way if I thought you didn’t. You trust that?”

 

 

Amanda nodded from her head to her shoulders. “I do.”

 

 

“Good. Now cheer up and have a good evening.” Brett left. Jamie sat up.

 

 

“Told you he was marriage material. If you ignore the wedding ring.”

 

 

“I’ll hold him if you want to tickle him, Mom.”

 

 

“I want to see the video.” Amanda showed it to her, and they both got weepy again. They ran through the whole story, honest this time. Becky was of two minds. The logical person in her knew that Amanda was blameless. The little mother in her lied to her and said if she had been there, everything would have been different. She told that part of her to shut up, but she had to do it twice.

 

 

After dinner, Becky gave Jamie a very slow bath, gently washing his hand like he’d gone ten rounds with a pro. She was slow in everything she did with him that night, her hands lingering on him when she combed his hair, got him dressed in normal PJs and carried him to his chair. He’d never felt so delicate. He was reading one his new books when he heard a moan from somewhere between heartache and grief. He shook his head, but a tear came to his eye, too. He couldn’t stand this. Hearing Amanda so hurt made him hurt.

 

 

He’d improved the story and added some props to make sure everything went their way. He’d done this enough to know that facts weren’t foolproof. Social workers are risk averse by nature, and if they erred on the side of caution, they were doing their jobs right. This time, though, Jamie knew exactly what the truth was and he found no blame at all in anything Amanda had or hadn’t done. It was a fluke, and he was fine. There was nothing he wouldn’t do or say to make sure Marsha saw it that way, and just as importantly, he wanted Rebecca to know it, too.

 

 

Jamie climbed the steps and paused outside his mom’s door. He could make out through thick tears “I was so scared.” The guaranteed way to set off Jamie’s tears was for someone he cared about to cry. He choked it back, leaving a stone is his throat, and went into the room.

 

 

Rebecca was spooning Amanda and running her fingers through her hair. She saw Jamie come in, but Amanda’s eyes were squeezed shut. Tears flowed, but he sobs had turned to whimpers. Jamie pulled himself on to the bed and made himself the third spoon. Amanda felt him and instinctually put her arm around him, pulling him close and resting her chin just above his head.

 

 

He’d already said it, but he’d say it again as many times as it took. “I wasn’t scared, Manda, ‘cause you were there.”

 

 

Rebecca reached her arm around until it, too, was over Jamie. She kissed the back of Amanda’s head, saying, “My babies.”

 

 

They shared the bed for the rest of the night, just like that. First Amanda, then Jamie, fell asleep like that, as Rebecca sang them their lullaby.

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Wow. This story gets better and better. I love how efficient and clever Jamie was to make the whole thing tilt even more in their favor, but he's right: Amanda was not at all to blame. And Officer Brett is a wonderful character as well; it's funny you made all those jokes about marriage material b/c I was thinking the same thing myself and then you went and put a ring on his finger. ?

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Another great chapter - although I almost like it better when the drama arises from something that absolutely would not make the news.

So that’s at least four Bigs that Jamie has met outside of his family who treat him with respect. I particularly liked the librarian, recovering instantly from her false start. I hope we see more of her.

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I definitely enjoyed it. I like the interactions between the Mother and Daughter. I understand the want and need your mother, but to cuddle up to your mother at 22(?). I am excited to see how each relationship of each main characters goes. This is awesome.

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38 minutes ago, Guilend said:

I definitely enjoyed it. I like the interactions between the Mother and Daughter. I understand the want and need your mother, but to cuddle up to your mother at 22(?). I am excited to see how each relationship of each main characters goes. This is awesome.

Someone once posted, probably here, the old saying that one day your parents put you down and never picked you up again, and that bummed me out for a whole weekend.

It’s a cultural decision to draw the line between what ages it is and not appropriate for children and parents to cuddle, and it’s also an economic decision. In plenty of countries, an entire family in one bed is the norm. Used to be the case in the US, too, especially for newly arrived immigrant families.

And I think Amanda is 20.

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1 hour ago, Guilend said:

I understand the want and need your mother, but to cuddle up to your mother at 22(?).

Hey! I am 21 and I still cuddle my mother! No age limit on hugs!

 

35 minutes ago, Author_Alex said:

Someone once posted, probably here, the old saying that one day your parents put you down and never picked you up again, and that bummed me out for a whole weekend.

I prefer the saying "once you start clapping you never stop, there is merely longer intervals between the claps" :P

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_________________________

Chapter 27

 

 

 

Rebecca was drying Jamie off after a bath, his second in less than half a day. She was being especially attentive.

 

 

“Mom, can we have a boring day today?”

 

 

“Heh. Yeah, sweetie, we can do that. Just wanna stay home?”

 

 

“If we could, yes.”

 

 

“Sure.” She carried him back into his room and set him on the changing table. She bent down and picked up the bunny outfit he’d discarded after Marsha had left yesterday. “Wanna wear this again,” she said with an earnest smile. “It’s ridiculous how cute you were in it.”

 

 

“Maybe we should save it for special occasions. Like whenever I punch a 6-year-old in the face.” She folded it and put it away, then approached the changing table. Jamie laid back.

 

 

“You feel bad about that?” She started getting Jamie into a new diaper.

 

 

“More and more. It hurt bad enough to justify it at the time, but now that it doesn’t hurt I feel, I don’t know, at least sorry I did it.” She had his ankles up in the air and was applying cream to his butt.

 

 

“Well, that’s because you’re a good person. Really. Not everyone, maybe not even most, would feel sorry for what they had to do to get out of that situation.”

 

 

“Still…”

 

 

“Still, his eye will get better a lot faster than your spine would have if he hurt you back there, which he was going to even if he didn’t mean to.”

 

 

She got the diaper fastened and put Jamie on his feet. “You’re a little pink back there still. You need to get some air on there today. This afternoon.”

 

 

Jamie blushed. “I … okay.”

 

 

“Hey, Mom, when you get a sec can you come find me?” Amanda appeared in the doorway briefly and walked away. Not like her. Becky put a shirt on Jamie.

 

 

“Why don’t you just hang in this for now? Need anything?”

 

 

“No, I’m fine for right now.”

 

 

Becky found Amanda upstairs in her mom’s room with the TV playing quietly. “Do we tell him?” She gestured at the screen.

 

 

“Is that …”

 

 

“National TV. And social media.”

 

 

“Did they use his name?”

 

 

“No. Mine neither, and everyone’s face is blurred out.”

 

 

“Why is it on national TV?”

 

 

“They deported that family last night. Turns out those bigs are important back in Ros.”

 

 

“How important?”

 

 

“Important enough that Ros is threatening to expel Itali businessmen living in Ros.”

 

 

“Shit!”

 

 

“The media won’t use names or show faces. Against the law since it involved a little.”

 

 

“Still …”

 

 

“Think we need to be worried about this?”

 

 

“What else do they say about Jamie?”

 

 

“Nothing. Just that a big child tried to carry him away, and the little punched him, and then his dad flew off the handle and his wanted Jamie punished in some way. ‘Injured’ is the word the news is using. ‘Injured’ in some way.”

 

 

“They don’t mention he’s not regressed?”

 

 

“I don’t think they know.”

 

 

“Where did they even get the video?”

 

 

“Woman who took it posted it on social media, and a local station picked it up; then when Ros threw their temper tantrum, I guess the local station reached out to the national.”

 

 

“Did Ros say anything about Jamie?”

 

 

“Not him specifically. About littles who hit bigs, they said it in diplomatic language. Why aren’t they barred from coming here?”

 

 

“Money, probably. Usually the reason.”

 

 

Amanda shook her head with disgust. People from a country that tortures littles allowed to come to Itali, and why? Cheap labor, cheap goods, cheap commodities? Who knew?

 

 

“What if they want to do something to Jamie? Like, let the business people back in if Jamie is punished?”

 

 

Becky sat down next to Amanda and put her arm around her. “Won’t ever happen, baby. Ever. It’s just people who think they’re tough trying to prove it.”

 

 

“Do we tell Jamie?”

 

 

“No, I don’t think so.”

 

 

“And if he finds out on his own?” Becky hadn’t thought of that. He well may.

 

 

“Maybe we tell him and make it sort of a joke, so he doesn’t get worried.”

 

 

“He’s smart, Mom. Or did you not notice how perfectly he manipulated Marsha? He’ll decide for himself whether to be worried.”

 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Jamie wasn’t worried. He knew if necessary the agency would get him out of the dimension, but more to the point, he doubted anything would come of any of it. Chest thumping politicians. Jamie didn’t know anything about Itali politics or who was even president, if they had a president, but he knew people. Politicians don’t back down when threatened by anyone except donors and 50%+1 voters, and the opposite was equally true. People clapping for him when he left the park made it plain that Italis wouldn’t accept any kind of quid pro quo that involved himself.

 

 

The next day at daycare, Jamie found Ella had beat him there and was already sitting with her sketch pad.

 

 

“Hey, Mr. International Incident,” she whispered.

 

 

It freaked Jamie out that she knew. “How could you tell?”

 

 

“I recognized your shoes.”

 

 

“Well, please keep it to yourself.”

 

 

“Don’t worry. I keep bigger secrets than this.” I know, Jamie thought.

 

 

He leaned over to look at her drawing. “You’re drawing that again?”

 

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

“The one before looked perfect.”

 

 

“They all look perfect. Want me to teach you?” Ella spent the next few hours teaching Jamie the basics of drawing, starting with basic shapes, lines, and how to create the illusion of depth. After three hours, Jamie had managed to draw a sphere. Just the one.

 

 

“I wish I had learned to do this as a kid. I never could do anything creative.”

 

 

“Everybody can do something.”

 

 

“Well, that’s not true. But point taken. I guess I mean visual art. Or performing art. A talent you can show people and be proud of.”

 

 

“Back there I’d probably be a graphic designer or technical illustrator.”

 

 

“That wasn’t your goal?”

 

 

“Hell, no! I wanted to be an artist, the kind that actually makes a living doing it. I’d probably have ended up the kind of artist who makes a living as a designer and who maybe has a booth at local fairs.”

 

 

“So what did you do, before you came here?”

 

 

“I was a student.”

 

 

“You came here as a student, still in college?”

 

 

“Yep. Want to work on the next step of learning to draw?”

 

 

“Sure.”

 

 

“Draw another four hundred spheres.”

 

 

“What if I want to be a cubist?” That got a laugh out of Ella, a good one. She liked that Jamie was clever and could make her laugh. She didn’t seem the type to casually laugh.

 

 

“You know art styles?”

 

 

“A little. I’ve read books. Ya know, typical art history survey books. Hardly anything about any artist still alive.”

 

 

“Probably read the same books.”

 

 

“You ever get to see any of the things you read about? I never did. Never got to travel really.”

 

 

Ella’s face took on a contemplative visage, and she looked away, remembering. “Once. ‘Travel makes men wiser, but less happy.’”

 

 

“What?”

 

 

“Thomas Jefferson said that.”

 

 

Jamie wasn’t sure what she meant or why she’d quote that. “So … where did you go, the once?”

 

 

She slid her sketchbook toward him in response. “There.”

 

 

“Just there, or like, the whole city.”

 

 

“The city.”

 

 

“So …”

 

 

She cut him off. “Saw all of the big museums there. Antiquity to the 21st century. Mostly classical period, renaissance, and baroque … funny, in that city nothing really took hold after that. Sort of frozen, like it just ended there.”

 

 

Jamie was getting a little tired of her being cryptic. He was sure she didn’t meant to be, but she was. He tried an almost direct approach. “I’m surprised an agency accepted you when you were still in college.”

 

 

She set her pencil down. “Why are you here, Jamie?”

 

 

“I told you already.”

 

 

“No, you told me why you to therapy.”

 

 

“Same difference,” Jamie tried to beg off. Why don’t you just say ‘no,’ Jamie wondered. But he didn’t say it.

 

 

“No, they are not.”

 

 

“Lunchtime!” Jordan announced.

 

 

“We’ll talk about it after nap time.”

______________________________________________________________________________

 

 

They went outside afterward and walked to the back of the field where they’d have some privacy. Ella led the way, walking faster than she usually did.

 

 

“Why do you want to know,” he asked.

 

 

“Because you do. You’ve been hinting at since the day after we met.”

 

 

“I’m just … curious. You’ve been, kinda dangling it there, hinting at plenty of stuff yourself.”

 

 

“Well, I’m not a mystery to be solved. If you want to ask, ask and I’ll decided whether to answer.”

 

 

“Same.” Jamie wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so short tempered. So she hadn’t been doing it deliberately, but she was still leaving clues in every third sentence. Why would she unless on some unconscious level she wanted to talk about it?

 

 

“So, I’m asking,” she said.

 

 

Jamie sat down on the grass and Ella sat next to him. He told her his whole story, birth through the day he left. All of it. The hurt he suffered, the abuse, the anger, the grief, the hate he couldn’t not feel toward the people who hurt his kids, his inability to be a part of it anymore or worse, a bystander.

 

 

“Well,” he asked when he was finished. “Will you tell me now?”

 

 

Ella opened her sketchbook and thumbed through it to a random page, setting in front of Jamie without even looking at it. Same drawing, again. Jamie picked it up.

 

 

“I don’t …” he started to say.

 

 

“That’s the last thing I remember. Me and a friend, went to go see it together. That’s the last thing I remember from home.” She waited for him to say something, and she saw he didn’t understand, or at least didn’t yet. “I’m a rescue, Jamie.”

 

 

Jamie hadn’t heard the term, but by context he could guess. “You …”

 

 

“Were kidnapped. A few hours after being there. And when I woke up …” She turned away and moved her hair again, revealing the scar. She let hair fall and turned both arms upward, revealing faint scars on the inside of her elbows. She pulled her long dress up, showing the same on the backs of her ankles. She pulled her dress up further, showing her scars on her knees.

 

 

“I can’t show you the others dressed … They didn’t want a little who could walk or sit up or move much. The rest they did with drugs.”

 

 

“Bigs in …”

 

 

“Humans. Kidnap and smuggle littles to the dimension, into countries agencies don’t work with and other countries won’t send littles to … I’ve been gone almost 12 years.” Jamie couldn’t guess what she was feeling. Her body language, her voice, her expression, all like she wasn’t on that field with him. He didn’t say anything, letting her decide on her own whether to keep going.

 

 

“Best I can guess, I went out to get a drink after, and someone dosed it. I don’t know if my friend was with me or what happened to her … I just remember standing outside the place, and I started to draw it while we were waiting in line … and then we went in. That’s it. That’s where it stops…

 

 

Then I woke up in this dimension. I only found out later I was in Aidu … Woke up, complete agony … No pills. And I couldn’t move, not for a year at least. And then just my arms. Not enough to hold anything heavy or pull myself up … They pumped me full of drugs that kept me from speaking, and when they wore off and I tried to say something they’d just hit me. Eventually they didn’t need the drugs anymore ... and almost all the time, they’re smiling at me, cooing at me, baby talking like they love me, like they did me a favor, like I’m supposed to enjoy this life, come to terms with it and realize it’s the best thing that could have ever happened to me ... like that’s how the story ends, everyone happy  and loving each other, not in spite of what they did but because of it ... I don’t even know what you call that sickness.”

 

 

“How did you escape,” Jamie asked just above a whisper.

 

 

“I didn’t. A rescue group rescued me.”

 

 

“And you’re afraid if they find you they’ll try to take you back?”

 

 

She let out a laugh with no humor in it. “No. We’re disposable to them. Probably cried for an hour that their ‘baby’ was gone and went to go find some other victim. If they find me, though, they have a clue about the rescue group.”

 

 

“It’s not governments?”

 

 

“Rumor is that it’s funded by governments and they receive training from governments, but it’s militant abolitionists basically … Terrorists and thieves, they call them in those other countries …  ‘Thieves.’ Not even ‘kidnappers’ … They won’t tell me all how they did it. I don’t even remember much of it, I was so doped up.”

 

 

“They fixed …”

 

 

“What they could. Even they can’t fix everything.”

 

 

“Can you leave? Go home?”

 

 

“I … yes.”

 

 

“Why don’t you?” Ella didn’t respond for several minutes.

 

 

“Medicine, at first. They can fix me better here.”

 

 

“What now? ‘At first?’”

 

 

She shrugged. “I’m safer here. No one kidnaps us from Itali … And … I’m not from there anymore. I can’t … I can’t be … I can’t just go back and live a normal life … I’m happy here; happy enough. I can’t just … what? What would I be back there now? How the fuck could I just go back and live like a person again? … It’s not in me anymore … She’s just a memory.”

 

 

Jamie looked at the ground between his knees. “Your people?”

 

 

“I don’t know. They must think I’m dead … They must’ve made peace with it by now … I did. This place … this is as good as starting over is gonna get … like resurrection … difference between you and me Jamie. You forgave the people who hurt you. I wish to god I had the chance to cut their fucking throats.”

 

 

So do I, Jamie thought, it would be justice. And it would make sure they could never do it to anyone else. Jamie thought back on that Ros couple. He didn’t know what they deserved, what would happen because they were back home where they were the wronged party. What about the littles there? Would the propaganda make their lives even worse?

 

 

Ella was right. This world wasn’t better than the one he left; it wasn’t worse, either. It was just a world, and Jamie lived in his piece of it, and for him it was good. For Ella, even, it was good, or least as good as she expected it could be and was willing to accept.

 

 

“Is ‘Ellafaire’ your original name?”

 

 

“No … ‘Ellafaire Jenkins.’ That’s me now.”

 

 

“How’d you pick it?”

 

 

“How’d you pick ‘Jamie.’

 

 

“Amanda did.”

 

 

“’Ellafaire Jenkins’ is a name I saw on a tombstone in this park we’d go to when I was a kid … this little 19th century family cemetery on what used to be a farm, and now it’s inside the park, back in the woods on this trail … She was 22 when she died … I told my mom and dad I wished they’d named me that … I always thought it was a very pretty name … Now it’s mine.”

 

 

“ELLA! STACY’S HERE!”

 

 

Jamie shook his head, indicting himself for thoughtlessness. “I’m sorry. I … didn’t mean to pressure you into …”

 

 

“You didn’t. Been a long time since someone could make me do something I didn’t want to do. So I guess I wanted to. You can tell yours bigs if you want. Just tell them not to spread it any further.” She started to stand, and Jamie jumped up and helped her. She looked at him without any readable expression, none at all. But Jamie recognized it. He’d seen it a handful of times, watched it come and go like a wave against a seawall.

 

 

“You ever help me up again without me asking, and I will put you on your fucking ass.”

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Just holy shit!!

 

I'd be a wreck after what happened after Ella

Like full on screaming flashback and nightmares....

Honestly most likely outcome is I just go full catatonic several months in....

 @Author_Alex

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42 minutes ago, YourFNF said:

Just holy shit!!

 

I'd be a wreck after what happened after Ella

Like full on screaming flashback and nightmares....

Honestly most likely outcome is I just go full catatonic several months in....

 @Author_Alex

And yet, shit like that happens in how many dimension stories? 

I cant even read that stuff, let alone write it. Your reaction is why I wanted to write about a place where that shit doesn’t happen and is seen for what it is.

 

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17 minutes ago, Author_Alex said:

And yet, shit like that happens in how many dimension stories? 

I cant even read that stuff, let alone write it. Your reaction is why I wanted to write about a place where that shit doesn’t happen and is seen for what it is.

 

Yeah it's why a lot of my dia dem stuff is either my own variant or basically a mix of action/horror....

Like in 6 million to freedom, I established that there is an underground railroad and various resistance groups that spring up only to get exterminated.... One of the largest was named after a series of scifi movies from the other Earth; Zion. It lasted 40 years before it fell..... with 90% casualties on both sides..... The defenders making heavy use of hit and run attacks and IEDs to inflict disproportionate casualties on the Amazons....

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