    Freddie the Diaper Boy

    By David Malone

    Part I

    	It was six a.m. when Freddie woke up. Something just wasn't
    right. As Freddie came to his senses, he discovered he was lying in a
    cold, wet bed. "Oh Shit," he murmured to himself, "I wet my bed."
    	Freddie quietly got up and stripped the sodden sheets off his
    bed. He threw them into the corner of his room along with his wet
    pajamas, and got clean sheets out of his closet. After making his bed
    with the clean sheets and his spare blanket, he stopped to think about
    what he had to do next.
    	"I can't let my family know I wet the bed," he thought, "but how
    will I get my sheets cleaned?" Freddie decided to just throw his sheets
    into the washer after everyone was up, and to pretend that he was just
    changing his sheets, which was possible since at eight years old, he
    was responsible keeping his room clean-this included changing his
    sheets and laundering them at regular intervals.
    	Freddie climbed back into bed, and realizing that he only had a
    half-hour left, tried to stay awake. At seven, his alarm went off, and
    Freddie walked down the stairs to the breakfast table.
    	"So, what do you have planned for today, Freddie?" his mother
    asked him as he sat down. She placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front
    of him.
    	"Not much, just me and the guys are going to ride bikes down by
    the creek after school."
    	"The guys and I, sweetie," his mother corrected, "and I don't
    like you hanging out by the creek."
    	A frown appeared on Freddie's face. He knew that the "creek" was
    just a drainage canal, but it was a cool place to hang out. Freddie and
    Joe had even dug a fort into the side of the bank, and Freddie and his
    friends had made this into a sort of home away from home.
    	"There was that boy that drowned a few years ago. I just want to
    keep you safe."
    	Freddie did not remember this occurrence, but then he would have
    been five when it happened. His mother brought it up whenever Freddie
    wanted to go down to the creek. Freddie thought the story was a crock,
    but didn't have the guts to tell his mother this. "We'll be careful,"
    he promised.
    	After his mother relented, and gave him permission to go to the
    creek, Freddie finished his breakfast and went back upstairs. He
    bundled his sheets up and took them down to the basement. He could
    smell his pee on them and decided that he should use extra soap. After
    starting the cycle, he yelled, "Mom, I'm washing my sheets, could you
    pop them in the dryer when they're done?"
    	Then he ran back upstairs, all the way to his room. He had to get
    ready for school. After putting on his pants and a shirt, he looked
    into the mirror and tied his tie. "Man," he thought to himself, "why
    can't I go to a normal school. I hate going to The Academy."
    	Freddie knew that complaining would do no good. His parents had
    set strict rules about that. Besides, they said, The Academy is the
    only school in town that challenges talented children such as you.
    	It wasn't all that bad, though, his best friend Joe attends the
    Academy as well, and he was studying at a ninth grade level. But
    sometimes he wanted to be a normal kid.
    	As Freddie walked out the door, he saw the third member of his
    group, Sam. Freddie and Joe attended the Academy, while Sam went to
    regular public school. Freddie envied Sam. Most of the other kids at
    The Academy (it was always The Academy, as if the name had a high
    degree of importance. Freddie didn't think so.) were, in Freddie's
    opinion total wanks. Freddie wanted to go to school with kids who liked
    to ride bikes and dig in the dirt, the Academy kids thought that fun
    was playing with mathematical theorems.
    	As the passed on the street, Freddie said, "The creek, after
    school." Sam nodded his head and hurried on. Freddie took his time
    walking down the street-it was only three miles, and at The Academy,
    one is allowed to come and go as he chooses-thinking about the last
    night and his accident. Freddie was a little concerned he hadn't wet
    the bed since he was a baby and just getting potty trained. He hoped
    that it would be the only time.
    	Freddie walked through the doors of The Academy, and met up with
    Joe. Freddie and Joe were in the same class, although Freddie was a
    year younger. Joe felt the same way about The Academy as Freddie, and
    the two hit it off from the first time they met. Freddie told Joe that
    Sam was going to meet them at the creek after school, and Joe smiled.
    He got along well with Sam, and Sam always had some juvenile joke to
    tell them. Kids didn't tell juvenile jokes at The Academy, it was
    supposed to be beneath them.
    	After a day that seemed to last forever, Freddie and Joe finally
    escaped from The Academy. They knew that they had to hurry, since Mrs.
    Johnson's lecture on the life cycle of the common horsetail went long.
    They liked Mrs. Johnson and didn't want to insult her by leaving in the
    middle of class-they felt differently about most of their other
    instructors.
    	When they arrived at their fort, Sam was already there. "What
    took you so long, slowpokes?" He called out when he saw them.
    	Before they crawled through the tunnel into the fort proper, they
    all took a leak into the creek. Freddie dribbled a bit onto his pant
    leg. "Peed his pants, didn't he?" Sam joked out loud. After zipping up,
    the boys crawled into their fort.
    	After lighting a small oil lamp, the boys could easily see
    around. There wasn't much to see, but they boys had worked hard
    expanding its size and shoring up its walls. Quite the marvel for three
    small boys, two of who aspired to be engineers.
    	After several hours of talking about stuff that boys talk about,
    they headed home. Freddie wanted to talk to Sam in private, about his
    accident last night. Sam had been a bedwetter until the age of seven,
    and Freddie thought that Sam might have some advice. Not only that, but
    Sam's experience with the shame of bedwetting would mean that Sam would
    use discretion and not tell anyone.
    	After Joe turned down his street, Freddie and Sam walked down the
    street together. Freddie didn't know how to begin, and just blurted
    out, "I wet the bed last night, Sam." Sam just looked at him for a
    second and started laughing. "It's not a joke."
    	At that Sam became serious. "Dude, that sucks," he said, "but it
    only happened once right? Besides, Joe and I won't make fun of you if
    it keeps up. You didn't make fun of me, right?"
    	After many assurances that his dignity was safe with his friends,
    and that wetting the bed wasn't all that bad, Sam and Freddie parted
    ways and Freddie went inside his house.
    	After dinner, Freddie watched some TV and finally went to bed. As
    he lay there trying to fall asleep, he kept repeating to himself, "I'm
    not going to wet the bed, I'm not going to wet the bed, I'm not going
    to wet the bed."

    Part II

    	Later that night, Freddie wet the bed.
    He awoke in the same manner as the previous morning, but today he had
    the advantage-his mother had to work early on Wednesdays, so he was
    able to immediately go downstairs and wash his sheets. As he was
    pulling his sheets out of the washer and tossing them into the dryer,
    his little brother came in. "Freddie, didn't you wash your sheets
    yesterday?"
    	"Yes, but they need to be washed again," Freddie growled, trying
    to hide his wet pajamas.
    	Pat asked, "Why? Did you wet the bed?"
    	"No! And if you tell Mom or Dad, you'll regret it." Freddie
    realized he gave himself away and started to cry. Pat just left the
    basement.
    	"You might just want to tell Mom, she'll understand," he said as
    he shut the door.
    	Freddie just stood there in his wet pajamas and waited for his
    sheets to dry. When they were done, he made up his bed and got ready
    for school.
    	All day at school, Freddie couldn't concentrate on his studies.
    His instructors noticed, but most of all, Joe noticed. "What's wrong
    buddy?" Joe asked as they mounted their bikes and headed towards the
    creek.
    	"Nothing," came the replay.
    	As they approached their fort Freddie wet his pants. He couldn't
    help it, as he told Sam, "I thought I could hold it until we got to the
    creek."
    	Joe just smiled, "I guess not." Freddie burst into tears,
    embarrassing both himself and Joe. Through his sobs, Joe heard about
    the last two nights, and now this afternoon. "It's OK, I won't tell
    anybody. Hell, I've almost wet myself coming out here, so don't feel
    bad."
    	Freddie didn't feel much like hanging out, so as soon as his
    pants were dry, he left. Since Sam had a doctor's appointment, and Joe
    didn't like hanging out at the creek by himself, he left too.
    	Freddie snuck in the door and went up to his room. He changed his
    pants because although the dark spot on the crotch was gone, he could
    smell pee. As he sat down on his bed, he heard a faint crinkling sound.
    After further inspection, Freddie discovered a plastic mattress cover.
    	His mom stuck her head through the door. "The cover's just in
    case your GoodNites T leak, sweetie." She watched her son's reaction to
    being discovered, and as he started to cry, she walked over and hugged
    him. "It's going to be OK. We're in this together, and if this was only
    a two-time thing, then you don't have to wear the GoodNites."
    	"How did you know?"
    	"Freddie, you changed your sheets over the weekend, and then you
    changed them again only two days later. I thought something was up, so
    after you left for school, I came into your room and found your wet
    mattress. I stripped your bed and made sure your mattress was dry by
    the time you got home, I thought it might have just been a one time
    thing, but then I found your wet pajama bottoms today. Honey, you
    should have told me, I wouldn't have gotten mad, and the mattress cover
    is just to protect it."
    	Freddie was still sobbing, promising not to wet the bed again
    when his mother noticed that he had changed his pants. "Did you have an
    accident this afternoon?" Freddie could only nod his head. "I guess
    this is worse than I thought, Freddie."
    	"Mom," he said, "I was at the creek and didn't have anywhere to
    go. I couldn't hold it."
    	"Its OK sweetie," his mom said quietly, "and Pat doesn't have to
    know."
    	"He already does-he caught me this morning with my wet pajamas"
    	"OK, but I won't tell him about your new sleepwear."
    	Freddie's mother left and walked down the stairs. He walked over
    to his dresser and opened the top drawer. There, in all their gleaming
    whiteness was a package of GoodNites, opened and neatly stacked like
    underwear. "I guess I should try one of these on," Freddie thought to
    himself. He pulled off his pants and underwear, then proceeded to slip
    on his first GoodNite.
    	"A little snug," Freddie thought to himself, "but I like the
    padded feel." As he pulled his pants back on, forgoing the underwear
    (that seemed a little redundant), Freddie felt the urge to urinate.
    "What the Hell, that's what they're made for," he thought to himself as
    he relaxed his bladder. A smile crept across his face; the warmth of
    the urine migrated through his GoodNite. Freddie walked down the stairs
    and plopped down on the couch.
    	After watching his afternoon TV programs, Freddie got up to the
    kitchen for a snack. His mother walked up behind him and said, "I guess
    it's a good thing I put the mattress cover on your bed, your GoodNites
    do leak."
    	Freddie didn't know what to say he just stood there knowing he
    was caught-not only wearing a GoodNite, but having intentionally wet it
    as well. "Mom, I just wanted to know what they felt like before I had
    to wear one to bed, and then I had to go, and since I had a GoodNite
    on, I just went."
    	"Its OK, sweetie. If you want to wear GoodNites during the day,
    that's fine. In fact, I think it's a good idea, after your accident
    today. But you should put on a dry GoodNite, so you don't leak all over
    the furniture, and change your pants, or Pat will see that you wet them
    when he comes home."
    	Freddie slunk up the stairs, wet GoodNite and all. He stripped
    down and stood in his room naked. He was thinking about the last few
    days. He was eight years old and wetting his bed and pants like a baby.
    He couldn't believe it. But his friends seemed supportive, and his
    mother was understanding, and that's all that mattered. That and the
    fact that his "little problem" had to clear up before the end of the
    term. Freddie's father was going to take them to Disney Land, and he
    didn't want his father to think he was a bedwetting baby.
    	Freddie pulled up another GoodNite and pulled a dry pair of pants
    on over it. He thought that they leaked quite a bit, and hoped that
    they wouldn't leak in his bed. Freddie went downstairs and by this
    time, Pat had come home after soccer practice. For dinner, they had
    steak-thick, juicy, and perfectly done (pink all the way through, with
    a sliver of red in the center).
    	After dinner Freddie just slunk to his room. He didn't want to
    have to look his family in the eye, knowing that he was the only one
    among them who wet the bed. After climbing into bed, Freddie
    immediately fell asleep. He woke up wet.
    	When Freddie awoke, he expected the cold clamminess of a wet bed.
    He reached down and felt his sheets-They were dry! Then Freddie
    remembered his GoodNite. He reached his hand inside and felt that it
    was soaked. "Well, at least it didn't leak," he consoled himself.
    	After stripping off his wet GoodNite, he replaced it with a dry
    one and got dressed for school. We smiled at his mother after sitting
    down at the table, "No wet sheets today!"
    She smiled at him and asked, "So the GoodNite worked OK? It didn't
    leak"
    	"Not a drop. But almost."
    	"You have seven left right? When they're gone, we might want to
    get you something more absorbent. That is, if you still have your
    problem."
    	Freddie didn't want to know what "something more absorbent"
    meant. But it wouldn't be good news. "Oh well," he thought to himself,
    "we'll burn that bridge when we get there."
    	Freddie went to school grudgingly, it was Thursday and that meant
    special project assignments. Freddie and Joe had been working on an
    Electric Field study, but Joe had dropped the electron tube and it had
    imploded. Today they would have to explain to Mr. Smith why their
    project would be late.
    	Mr. Smith most likely would not take kindly to the destruction of
    school property, albeit accidental. Freddie had confessed to Joe that
    Mr. Smith was a hard-nosed bastard during lunch a few weeks ago. Milk
    had shot out of Joe's nose. As he walked to school, he chuckled to
    himself at this thought.
    	After explaining to Mr. Smith why their project was going to be
    late, both Freddie and Joe were expected to stay after school and copy
    texts. "What a useless activity," Joe moaned as he copied page 104 out
    of the encyclopedia, "if I have to see one more article about
    monotremes, I think I may scream."
    	"I don't have it much better," countered Freddie, "I have the
    French Revolution."
    	"Touch‚."
    	Mr. Smith stuck his head into the library cubicle. "I see that's
    its 5:00. You may go now." The boys handed in their work, and then Mr.
    Smith tore their hard written pages to shreds. "You said yourself that
    it was a useless activity, Joe. Now be sure that your make-up
    assignment is on my desk first thing Monday."
    	Freddie and Joe walked down the street, "Let's get together this
    weekend and finish our project. You heard what Mr. Smith said," Joe
    suggested. Freddie didn't respond-he was worried about his bedwetting.
    "If you're worried about your bedwetting, I don't care. I'll come over
    to your house, that way it stays in your family, Ok?"
    	Freddie nodded agreement, and waved to Joe as he turned down his
    street. Freddie felt the urge to urinate and started jogging towards
    his house. He dashed up the stairs and into the bathroom, pulling his
    pants down just in time. As Freddie peed into the toilette, he smiled,
    thinking about how he didn't wet his pants. Maybe things were going to
    get better after all.
    	That night Freddie wet the bed and this time his GoodNite leaked.
    In the morning, he looked at the large urine stain on his sheets,
    standing in his soaked pajamas, thinking he might as well have worn
    nothing at all. His mom walked in and saw him standing there, almost
    ready to cry.
    	"It's OK, sweetie. It's really my fault. I knew that GoodNites
    sometimes leaked, I should have bought something better right from the
    start. Just go get cleaned up and dressed. I'll take care of your
    bedding."
    	Freddie slunk down the stairs after getting dressed; he sat down
    at the table and ate his breakfast. He headed to school, dreading the
    coming weekend. "What would Joe think if he finds out I piss so much at
    night my GoodNites leak?" Freddie lamented.
    	All day at school, Freddie couldn't concentrate on his studies,
    and he almost wet his pants at lunch, but made it to the bathroom just
    in time. None the less, he managed to dribble on his pants, but
    fortunately it didn't show. "Don't know why I'm so worried," he thought
    to himself, "I have a GoodNite on, I'm well protected."
    	After school, they stopped off at Joe's house, and picked up his
    overnight bag. Freddie carried it, since Joe was packing the electron
    tube and voltages source. "Just don't drop this one," Mrs. Johnson
    chuckled, "Ol' Smithy would have a cow."
    	On the way to his house, Freddie did wet himself. All the way
    home, he kept thinking, "Please don't leak, please don't leak, please
    don't leak." As luck would have it, it didn't leak. As soon as Freddie
    stepped in the door, he had Joe turn on the TV, then sped up to his
    room to change his GoodNite.
    	Just as he had pulled a dry one on, Joe came in the room to see
    what was happening. Freddie quickly pulled up his pants and Joe didn't
    see anything out of the ordinary. Freddie pulled off his tie and tossed
    it on the bed. "Just getting out of these stupid clothes," he muttered.
    Joe saw the wet GoodNite lying on the floor, and didn't want to say
    anything and embarrass his friend. "Let's get this started," Joe said
    as he set up the electron tube, "if we get this done tonight, that
    gives us all weekend to hang out at the creek."
    	Freddie saw his wet GoodNite lying in the open and kicked it
    under his bed. After hours of tedious measurements, Joe and Freddie
    finally finished their project. Since it was well after midnight, they
    decided to write-up the experiment in the morning. Joe spread his
    sleeping bag on the floor, and Freddie crawled into bed.

    Part III

    	That night, once again Freddie wet the bed. His GoodNite had
    leaked again, but the wet spot on his pajamas was barely noticeable.
    The sheets show no signs of wetness. Freddie stripped down to his bare
    bottom, and pulled on a nice, warm, dry GoodNite. He picked up the one
    he had just wet, and reached for the one under his bed. But it was
    missing! Freddie figured that his mom must have picked it up when they
    had left his bedroom for a soda break. He walked down the stairs and
    threw his wet GoodNite into the garbage. He turned around to see Pat.
    	"Pat," Freddie began, "Mom already knows. She's the one that
    bought me the GoodNites."
    	"I know. She told me not to make fun of you, that you couldn't
    help it. Don't worry, I used to wet the bed, remember?"
    	"Yeah, but you were four. I'm eight."
    	Joe walked down the stairs, and Pat had the good judgment to
    change the conversation. For breakfast the boys had to have cold
    cereal, as there was nothing else to eat. Just as they finished up, Joe
    and Freddie ran out of the house, and headed for the creek. They hung
    out in their fort, waiting for Sam. While they were waiting, Joe spoke
    up. "Freddie, I have a confession. I'm wearing one of your GoodNites.
    The one you wet yesterday. I just wanted to know what one felt like."
    	"Hey Joe," Freddie said as he moved toward the tunnel, "I'm
    taking a leak."
    	Joe smiled, "Just wet your GoodNite. That's what they're made
    for."
    	Freddie stopped in his tracks and let his bladder relax. Joe
    starred as Freddie's GoodNite began to sag with the weight of his
    urine. Just as Freddie finished peeing, Sam came through the tunnel.
    "Dudes--that's twisted. How come you're wearing diapers?"
    	Joe laughed, "Freddie here can't seem to control his bladder, and
    I just wanted to see what one felt like."
    	Sam said, "Well count me in. We can be a diaper club. But we have
    to get you guys better diapers. Come over to my house. I have something
    to show you."
    	The two semi-naked boys pulled their pants back on, and followed
    their friend, not knowing what he was going to show them.

    To be continued