Gramps - Chapter 2

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 2

 

No, I didn’t die…yet.  But I certainly wondered if I was on my way, and death was closer than I thought.  Life went on around me.  I didn’t touch any of my playthings for a while after that conversation.  I wasn’t sure how Kimmie really felt about any of it at all.  I did often see her looking at me, more so than she used to.  But she never said another word about it.

It took me two weeks before I had the courage to “play” again.  But I only did it when I knew she was at work, and I was done with it each time faster than usual.  Let me tell you, there was a lot less joy in it for me than there used to be.  It was no longer my personal little secret.  I just hoped that Kimmie wouldn’t blab about it to anyone else…like her mother, or brother, or anyone else in the family.  I didn’t know what would happen if she did, but I had no doubt that I’d hear about it pretty quick, and just that fast they’d probably put me in some kind of home for old crazy people.  Shoot!  Maybe I belonged there.

But I played a bit anyway.  Just me.  Just for a little while each time, and I prayed no one would find out.  Including Kimmie.  It was fun, but not fun.  I worried too much about it.  Still, at my age, a tiny bit of fun is worth…something.

Have you ever been sixty-nine years old and had….  Okay, maybe not.  Let me start again.  Have you ever been sitting comfortably in a chair, reading a book, and suddenly had a full-grown girl plop herself down in your lap and put her arm around you?  I have!  Once settled on my lap, Kimmie leaned over and kissed my cheek.  “Hi Gramps.”

“Hi,” I replied, wondering where this was going.

“How are you doing?”

Instead of answering that, I asked my own question.  “I’m guessing you want something.  A new house?  A bigger allowance?  A pony?  All little girls want a pony.”

She giggled.  “I’m living in a nice big house, I’ve got a good job, but heck, if you want to buy me a…not a pony, I’m too big, but a horse would be nice.  The backyard is big enough for it.”

“Are you going to take care of it?  Are you going to pay to have the entire yard fenced in for it?”

“Uh…not a chance,” she replied.

“Then what is it you want?”

She hugged me again.  “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah.  Sure,” I replied sarcastically.  “It all depends on what you’re trying to get out of me now.”

She giggled again, then said, “Gramps, I feel bad that I took away all your special…um…fun, and that you don’t feel comfortable doing any of it around me.”

“It’s fine, Kimmie.  Trust me.”

“It’s not fine!” she returned.  “So, I’ve decided to help you.”

I was more than a bit shocked.  “Help me?  Help me what?”

“Enjoy your…diapers and stuff.  Do you have any other baby stuff besides diapers?”

“Why do you want to know?  Why should I tell you?”

“Because I want to know.  How can I help you if you don’t…come clean with me.”

Oh brother!  “Kimmie.  I’m fine.  Really!”

“No, you’re not.  And like I said, I feel bad about it.  I’m sure it wasn’t just me grabbing and looking in that box.  I’m sure it all went bad for you the day I moved in here.  I took all your little fun away from you.”

“So what?  It’s fine!  Trust me.”

“I don’t!” she replied.

“You don’t?”

“No.  Not about this.  I need to understand it.  I need to know more about what you do.”

“I thought you had it all figured out.  That you knew everything there is to know about the subject.”

“Hardly!” she admitted.  “So tell me.  What kind of stuff do you have for it?  What do you like to do when you get your things out?”

“Kimmie, it’s personal.  Okay?”

“No!  Not anymore.  Did Grams do this with you?”

I was appalled.  “Heavens no!  It didn’t start till after she was gone.”

“Oh.  Too bad,” she replied.

“Too bad?”

She didn’t reply to that.  “So, where do we start?”

“We don’t start anywhere!”

She looked straight into my face.  With her still sitting on my lap her face was only inches from mine.  “How about we start with dinner?”

She had a knack for confusing me.  “Dinner?”

“Yeah.  It’s time to figure out what we’re going to have for dinner tonight.  Want to help me make it?”

Kimmie liked to cook.  She had even taken several cooking classes.  “Sure,” I agreed.  She got off my lap and headed for the kitchen.  It was a minute before the blood in my legs returned enough for me to get up and follow.  While we went about doing things in the kitchen, I kept waiting for her to bring up the subject of my “hobby” again, but she never said a word.  I prayed the subject was gone now…forever!

My wishful thinking ended the moment we sat down at the table to eat.  “Did you buy more than just some diapers and those plastic pants I saw?” she asked.

“A few things,” I reluctantly admitted.

“Like what?”

“Things!  Personal things!”

“That doesn’t help,” she said before stuffing some mashed potatoes in her mouth.

“It’s not supposed to,” I told her.

“Gramps,” she said.  “I’m guessing you keep everything stuck in your closet somewhere.  Fair warning, after dinner, I’m going to raid your closet…and your drawers…and your bathroom, and anywhere else I think I need to look and find everything you’ve got.”

I was aghast.  “You’re what?”

“Gramps!  You can’t stop me.  I’m not only a lot younger than you, but I’m a Phys Ed teacher, and I’ve got a lot more muscle.  And I will go through your stuff till I find everything.”

“No!”

“Yes!” she insisted.  “Get used to the idea.  I’m going to know, and I want to see it all!”

“No!”

She just looked at me with a mischievous look again as she stuffed more food in her mouth.  I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.  My stomach was in knots!  The two of us glared at each other through the rest of dinner, neither of us saying another word.

Would she really do that?  Shit!  It was Kimmie!  Yes, she probably would.  But it was my stuff.  My personal stuff.  Still, she was a woman, and I was old enough to know that no woman in the world would let anything like that rest until she knew way too much.  The male species had been lost the moment women were invented.

As we always did, we cleaned up the kitchen after eating, but still, my stomach was in knots the entire time.  Once we were done though, she wiped her hands on the dishtowel, turned to me and said.  “Right!  Now let’s get a look at your closet.”

“No!”

She ignored me and headed straight for my room.

“Kimmie.  No!  That’s my stuff!  My personal stuff!”

She just kept walking determinedly, straight into my room, straight to my closet where she opened the door, turned on the closet light and walked inside.  I followed her, but with her in front of me, there was little I could do to stop her from seeing everything.  She looked briefly around for a minute, then turned to me and pushed lightly against my chest.  “Go sit on the bed.  I’ll bring it out.”

“Bring it out?”

“I need to see it,” she argued.  She pushed against me, harder this time.  “Go!”

She pushed me all the way out of the closet before she stopped, then she watched me until I finally, reluctantly, sat down on the bed.  Only then did she turn to go back into the closet.  She didn’t stay there long before she came out with the box of diapers that had arrived recently.  She set it on the bed, then went back and got the second box, the box that held the diapers I had left from my previous order.  Then it was back to the closet again.  She found my little girl shoes, my high heels, my dress and my skirt.  She poked stringently through my closet, not finding anything else before she came out.

But she wasn’t done yet.  She went to my dresser and started nosing through every drawer, finding the two big pacifiers I had bought.  She brought those back to the bed, picking one of them up and trying to press it into my mouth.  I shoved her hand aside and said a firm, “No!”  She giggled and set it on the bed.

She grabbed the entire stack of plastic pants next and set them on the bed.  After that, it took her no time to find the only other two fun items in that drawer, my white tights and the baby bottle.  She said nothing about either of them as she put them on the bed.

Next she went through Ruthie’s dresser, but I had never put anything of mine into her dresser.  I couldn’t.  I couldn’t put any of my stuff in her closet either, a place that Kimmie invaded just as thoroughly as she had my closet.  She only found Ruthie’s things.

“Gramps, you haven’t gotten rid of any of Gram’s things yet,” she noted seriously once she finished.

“Not yet,” I admitted.

“Why?”

“I…can’t,” I told her.  “Not yet.”

She nodded, then came over and hugged me.  When she pulled away she turned to the things on the bed.  “Now!” she said.  “What have we got here!”  It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

The boxes of diapers got emptied, and she asked me a few questions.  I had little choice but to explain that the thick ones were for nighttime use since I pee a lot at night.  The rest were for daytime, when, hopefully, if I needed it, they wouldn’t show under my pants.  She giggled at that and asked if I had ever done that, wear them out somewhere.

“Once or twice,” I admitted, ashamedly.

“Or maybe fifty or sixty times,” she countered laughingly.

I wondered which of us was closer to the truth.  Maybe her.

She tried to put one of the pacifiers in my mouth again, and I refused again.  She tried to get me to put the high heels on so she could see me walk in them.  My refusal was more adamant than with the pacifiers.  And then she called my Mary Jane shoes…darling, holding them up like she thought they were pretty or something.  She was a girl, and girls knew how to tease.  She certainly did.

“And I guess you won’t try on your skirt or dress for me either,” she said.

“Not a chance!” I told her firmly.  “Are we done now?  Can we put it all away?”

“Done?” she replied as if she was considering that.  “Maybe.  For now anyway.  But not forever.  Maybe not even for long.  Here,” she said.  “I’ll help you put it all away.”

Finally!

Five minutes later I was alone in my room, still trying to make sense of the fact that she now knew so much about me.  Was it good that she hadn’t berated me for it?  I wasn’t sure.  In some ways I felt let down that she hadn’t yelled or at least told me how sick I was.  She hadn’t even suggested I needed to see a therapist or something.  Then I realized, she hadn’t said that yet.  She hadn’t done any of those things…yet.  Was it coming?  As I said, in some ways I felt let down that she hadn’t yelled at me or even gotten the least bit upset.  To me, it only made sense that she would…except, she hadn’t.  Yet.

Sitting in my room alone wasn’t doing anything for me, physically or mentally, and especially not mentally.  Was I ready to go out of the room and face her?  I could hear the TV running in the living room, so I knew she was out there, but was I ready to go out there with her?  I realized that like it or not, eventually I would have to see her, I couldn’t stay locked up here in my room forever.  Or could I?  Bowing to the inevitable, I headed out to the living room.  What new monstrosities would she throw at me now that she knew all that she did?

In the living room, she barely glanced at me as she continued to watch her show.  I could tell she was avidly into it.  I sat in my recliner and tried to watch it with her, but my mind was more on what had just gone on in my bedroom.  How could she be so casual about it?  How could she now act like nothing at all had happened in there?  But then, she wasn’t the one with the sick problem.  I was.

We continued to watch TV together, her having no problem with it, but I could only get my mind into the shows for brief periods of time.  But all that came to a screeching halt when our usual shows ended at ten o’clock.  In fact, my life nearly came to a halt as well.

I wasn’t one of those late-night people.  I went to bed at ten every night.  I was very much a creature of habit that way.  But this time, when I got out of my chair to say goodnight and go to bed, she was already heading towards my bedroom.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“This-a-way,” she replied offhandedly as she continued to head straight for my bedroom.

Inside the room, she glanced over her shoulder as she headed straight for my closet.  “Get undressed,” she said before turning her attention back to what she was doing.

“What?”

“Get undressed,” she replied, now from inside my closet.

I couldn’t fathom that.  “What are you doing?”

She came out a moment later with one of my diapers.  I could already see from how thick it was that it was one of my nighttime diapers.  “Kimmie.  What…”

“Hush!” she said sternly.  “Lay down,” she added as she pointed at the bed.

“What?”

“Lay…down!” she said sternly.

“Why?  Kimmie…”

“Ssh!” she hushed me before pushing against my chest and backing me up until my legs hit the bed.  She continued to push until I fell over backwards on it.  She grabbed my legs, picked them up and swiveled them over onto the bed until I was lying on top of it.

“Kimmie…stop!”

“No!  Now lay still and let me undress you.”

“Do what?  Hell no.  Stop it!” I said as she pulled at my shirt to take it off me.  I started flailing to stop her, but she just kept pushing my arms and hands out of the way.

“Gramps, you either lay there and let me do this to you, or I’m going to tie your hands up and do it anyway.”

“No!”

“Yes!  Now lay still!”

With that, she shoved my arms forcefully away again and glared menacingly into my face.  I didn’t know what to make of it, but for some reason, I did nothing but glare back at her.  I never realized it until it was too late, that I was no longer trying to stop her.  In two minutes, I was butt naked on the bed before her, and she was spreading that nighttime diaper under my butt.

“Do you have any baby powder or diaper rash ointment?” she asked.

“No!” I replied somewhat angrily.

She nodded, and seconds later the thick diaper was taped firmly around my hips.

“Stay!” she ordered.

I wondered what new affront she was going to bring at me now.  I didn’t have to wait long to find out as she went to my dresser and came back with a pair of pastel yellow plastic pants.  They soon were pulled over top of my diaper.

“There!” she said.  “No nightgown?  No pretty pajamas to wear over that?”

“No,” I told her.  “Nothing.  I just put a t-shirt on and be done with it.”

She nodded before she went to my dresser and grabbed a t-shirt.  I sat up on the bed, intending on taking it from her, but she insisted on putting the thing on me.  She had dressed me in the diaper, plastic pants, and now my t-shirt.  I felt like a dumb little kid.  I certainly felt stupid.

“Can I go to bed now?” I asked sarcastically, ready for her to leave me alone.

“Sure Gramps,” she replied.  She helped me get into the bed properly and pulled the covers over me.  Then she stared down at me for a moment.  “No nighttime baby bottle?  Or…”  She looked over at my dresser where my baby bottle was before turning back to me.  “You want me to fix you one?” she offered.

I was shocked, but the warm night baby bottles were a favorite thing of mine.  She didn’t need to know that though.  The problem was, I took too long before I told her no. 

“You do!” she exclaimed as she realized I did want one.  “Do you do that a lot?”

“Kimmie.  No.  Just…let me go to sleep.”

Instead, she hurried over to my dresser and grabbed the bottle.  “Be right back,” she said excitedly before hurrying out with it.

Ugh!  What was happening?  This was so embarrassing!  She was back a few minutes later with a baby bottle.  I could see through the plastic that it held milk.  I tried to reach for it but she held it back and pressed the nipple right against my lips.  I kept my mouth sealed against it though…for a few seconds, only to relent and let her push the darn thing in.  Only then did she let me grab the bottle myself.  It was warm.  She had put it into the microwave for me.  I automatically started drinking, and she automatically started giggling.  Ugh!  I stopped drinking purposely and pulled the thing from my mouth, but she put her hand down and pushed it back again.  She held it there until I started drinking again.

“Enjoy it Gramps,” she said softly.  Then she leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.  “Night,” she whispered.  With another soft giggle, she turned out the light and was gone, closing the bedroom door behind her.  In moments I heard the soft sounds of the TV running again.

As I laid there drinking my nice warm bottle, my mind raced over all the strange things that had happened.  What was I supposed to do about it?  As far as I could see, nothing.  At least, not yet.  I would just have to see what developed in the future.

The bottle was warm and comforting in my mouth.  One of my favorite things.  The thick bulk of the diaper she had put on me was familiar from the many nights I had already worn them.  In some ways, things were back to normal for me.  Then I thought again about Kimmie.  No.  There was nothing normal about that situation at all.  What was I going to do about it?

With my stomach remaining knotted over the events and the new situation, I finished my bottle, rolled over, and tried to sleep, even though I knew I’d never be able to sleep with all the turmoil running through my head.

I felt the need to pee and barely held it back at all.  I don’t remember much after that.  With a warm wet diaper and warm wet milk in my tummy, I fell asleep.