Unfair- A Diaper Dimension Novel

Chapter 1
Chapter 113: Staffing Issues

Chapter Description: Clark finds out his old job has been filled a new, yet familiar face

[Part 10: Ascent]

Chapter 113:Staffing Issues

The next three days were a quiet nightmare for me. I was losing my bladder control. It wasn’t that I was completely unaware, I wasn’t incontinent; it wasn’t like I didn’t know I was peeing most times. There were no instances of wide eyed shock at the sudden wet warmth spreading out from my crotch or the feeling of a squish and being puzzled by it.  I knew what was going on with my body.

But unless I was actively thinking about it and resisted the urge, I just peed. Holding my bladder had become less like holding a cup of coffee and more like not scratching an itch. It was possible, but every moment spent not scratching became increasingly distracting to the point of agony.

And just like scratching an itch, it was very possible to do it while asleep. When I was put down for naps or just dozing, I stirred enough to wake myself up. Once I woke up right as my body was letting loose, but I still counted it.  At night, in a deep sleep, nestled in Janet’s arms? It felt impossible.

It was like Billy had said when we’d first met.  I wasn’t incontinent, I was becoming unpotty trained. Forced practice and the normalization of it all were taking their toll on me.  Imagining myself becoming like Billy who literally could and would push a steaming load into his pants at any given time no matter what else he was doing, I soothed myself by asserting that much control and holding my bowels for as long as I could bear. 

I didn’t bring any of this up to Janet of course.  She wouldn’t have believed me anyways, and if she did she’d no doubt be overjoyed.  I’d finally said that I hate her straight to her face and it hadn’t phased her.  Perhaps the breast milk was doing something to me, but it’s not like I could bring it up to Janet. For all I knew, Amazon breast milk was an addictive drug that caused long term incontinence and brain damage to Littles; but any Amazon cited source would make zero correlation to that fact.  Don’t ask questions if you don’t fully trust the narrator.

Oh yeah.  The breast milk.  How had I not realized? How could I have been so stupid? So blind? So willfully ignorant? Between that and everything else that had happened on Monday, I really did need the three days off just to process.

Those three days were also remarkably pleasant. We slept in and got up with the sun. My liquid diet consisted entirely of water and juice that Janet deliberately poured in front of me and sampled herself each time. My solid diet was finger foods, cut up fruit, corn dogs, massive pizza slices cut into bite size hunks. There was nothing gooey like macaroni and cheese or lasagna; nothing that would be untoward for an adult to eat with their hands; though the steamed broccoli was a stretch.

Because of her mandate on me not ‘playing’, we went to places where other Littles weren’t likely to be during school or daycare hours. That meant no playgrounds! We went grocery shopping and made a trip to the book store in lieu of the library because of its ‘Mommy and Me Baby Time’ program. 

She even got me a book. ‘Jeepers: Lights! Camera! Ack! Shh!’.  It was pulpy drivel, but a child’s chapter book written at a fourth grade level was leagues away from the illustrated propaganda in Beouf’s room. One afternoon we took turns reading chapters to each other on the couch, guessing what the next dumb fake out would be following the cliffhanger at the end of a given chapter.

For three whole days, I got to hang out with Janet. And I didn’t hate it.  We talked about nothing in particular. We read to each other. We did yoga (the one exception to the television rule she’d put in place).   She didn’t ask me to drink any milk at all, only asked if I wanted to keep talking about it. There were no further trauma incidents such as seeing free Littles set on edge by our presence..

Easiest grounding I’d ever had, to be honest.

The one thing that stung was missing the LIttle Voices meeting that wink. I desperately wanted to regale a certain wonderful nutter with the tale of how I’d busted an Amazon in the nose. There was something Amy had yet to accomplish as far as I knew. It would have been nice to tell her that before Ambrose inevitably found a way to strike back.  Amazons always did.

That Friday Morning sucked.  We woke up on time but were slow to get going. The weather forecast had temperatures in the forties that morning but expected it to rise into the low seventies by the early afternoon. I sat fidgeting in my car seat.  My jacket was too puffy and the jeans didn’t feel nearly baggy enough; like denim tights in some places. Janet had split her morning breakfast shake with me, but the sweetness was artificial and chalky compared to what I’d allowed myself to become accustomed to. 

That made me shudder.

“This outfit sucks,” I complained for the third or thirtieth time.

We turned into the school parking lot. “We don’t get cold weather very often, babe,” Janet said patiently. “You can take the jacket off when you get inside.  You might not even need it by lunch.”

“But then everybody will see the onesie,” I whined.  The navy blue long sleeved onesie with snowflake patterns was adorable.  Adorable was not how I cared to be seen. 

“That’s why you keep the pants on over it.” Janet said.  Damn. She had a point. And it was better than a shirt because there was no chance of my diaper poking out the back.  That was…actually kind of thoughtful.

“Oh…yeah.”

Janet glanced at the dashboard clock.  “Crap! We’re late.”  The sun cresting over the horizon gave hint to what the clock was broadcasting.  Less than five minutes before clock in time.  The buses would be here any minute. Janet zipped around to my door and all but ripped me out of the car seat.  “No time to go to the classroom. Mommy will clock in and hand you off to Mrs. B.”  She practically dashed carrying me over her shoulder; every little bump and jostle stopping me from telling her that she wasn’t supposed to call herself Mommy when we were alone.

There was no time for that argument, however.

The concrete zipped by.  Someone I couldn’t see looking over the back of Janet’s shoulder said “Hi Janet! Hi Clark!” and she hustled through to log in for the day. Three steps in I was able to get a good look at Beouf still holding the door, waving, and giggling.  I waved back. 

 I stood on solid ground for the first time that morning when she sat me down and started punching in her number. It was not to last, however.

“Boss!”

My eyes lit up. My whole body pivoted towards the front office’s mail room. “Tracy?!”

Tracy stood there, eyes wide with excitement, holding an armful of papers.  Better yet, she was dressed like a normal person again, and not a gross parody of a western school marm! She took the stack of worksheets fresh off the printer and bits of announcements and mail and placed them on a nearby desk.  “Boss!”

“TRACY!”

“BOSS!”

The Tweener got down on her knees and flung her arms wide. I took the cue and waddle-ran all the way into her arms, giving her the biggest possible hug I could manage, even with the puffy jacket limiting my mobility.  There were soft quiet ‘Awwws’ and one disgruntled ‘Hmmmph’, but I didn’t care this time.  My feet were on the ground but I was on cloud nine.

“How ya been, sir?”  Tracy asked, her voice soft and gentle.

“Three days?” I boasted. “I could do three days standing on my head.”  I neglected to mention my recent nighttime problems because well…there’s no good way to bring that up.  “You?”

Tracy stood back up, but she kept gushing. “It’s been like a vacation. The substitute that came in has been phenomenal!”

“Substitute?” I said. “You mean Ambrose hasn’t come back yet?”

The first bell rang right as the buses were starting to motor up. I felt Janet’s warm shadow over me.  “I need to go unlock my classroom,” Janet spoke over my head. “Can you get him to Mrs. Beouf please?”

Tracy gave a cheeky thumbs up. “I think I can manage, ma’am.” 

Two full lips planted themselves on the top of my head.  “Bye bye, Clark. Have fun today!” 

I slapped my palm over the spot that had been kissed like I was swatting at mosquitoes. “Mommy!” I squeaked. Alas, she was already power walking out the side exit towards the courtyard.

Tracy arched an eyebrow. “Mommy?”

“Shut up,” I growled, embarrassed at myself.

My assistant held her hands up in defense. “No judgment. No judgment. You gotta do what you gotta do sometimes. Say what you gotta say.”

I tried to move beside her and reached up for her hand. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Tracy eyeballed the front door.  “Are you kidding? It’s cold out there and our buses are dead last. We can wait a few.”

Oh wow!  Neither I nor Tracy had ever dared to push our luck by waiting inside after the bell. We’d bitch about it, sure, but we never acted on it.  Something had emboldened Tracy.  I kind of liked it.

“Okay,” I said back up to her. “So…substitute?”

“Oh she’s amazing!” Tracy said. “She’s an Amazon, but she’s really good with the kids. Playful but doesn’t goof around. Talks to them like they’re people, but isn’t a drill sergeant. Really knows her stuff!  Emily’s mom came in on Tuesday and this lady just talked circles around her and redirected her so that she was happy and gone in like five minutes! Almost like how you and me would do it.  I think even Beouf kinda likes her.”

Wow, again. I leaned back from surprise.  Tracy did not give compliments this lightly.  They were just falling out of her, too. There was no way she was using any kind of office politics language in case we were overheard, (and we were obviously being overheard).

“Oh,” I sighed. “Good.  What’s her name?”

The door to Brollish’s office opened and closed.

“Starke. With an ‘e’ at the end.”

Starke…Starke…Starke…I didn’t know any teachers with that name. Not that I could expect myself to know every teacher, as necessarily anti-social as I was.  Light footfalls signalled an approach.

“That doesn’t sound like any of the regular subs. What’s she look like?”

Tracy pointed towards Brollish’s hallway.  “Kinda like that.”

The lady who walked out of Brollish’s office might as well have been a Little made large: Skinny and straight almost to the point of pre-pubescence.  Her hips and breasts were still bigger than any Little woman’s, but proportionally speaking, she was a twig.

Her short, light brown hair was let down and neatly combed, and she was dressed functionally yet professionally; much like how Beouf often did- with clothes designed for ease of mobility and comfort so that one could get down on the floor and play with students as much as teach them at their desks.  Her red and puffy winter jacket was almost an exact replica of my own, possibly because they had been bought from the same store.

There was a joyful gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. She waved.  “Morning, Tracy! Morning, Clark!”

“Hey, Miss Starke!”  Tracy waved back. Then she took a second and looked back down at me. “You guys know each other?”

“She’s my babysitter,” I said almost under my breath.

Jessica pranced our way. “How are you buddy?” she cooed down at me. “Ready to play and learn?  Still sleepy? Grumpy?”  Tracy reached down and gave my hand a squeeze.  Then Jessica said to her.  “Oh, sorry. His Mommy is my best friend. I’m kind of his honorary aunt. Ms. Grange. Do you know her?”

“Yeah…” Tracy nodded. “I do. We used to all meet up first thing in the morning and chat before work. Me. Mrs. Beouf. Ms. Grange.  Clark.”  This had all become incredibly awkward, and once again, the Amazon was the one who had no idea.

“That sounds neat! Maybe we can start doing that again once I’m settled in.” The tips of her fingers shot up to her mouth in self surprise. “Oops! I didn’t mean to invite myself. No pressure of course. No pressure. Just I love Janet, and I’ve really liked working with you so far and…”

“We?” I parroted. “So far? Settled?  Jessica…Auntie Jessica, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Jessica paused and then broke out in a mile wide grin. “I got the position!”

Tracy gasped and let go of my hand.  I did too. So many conflicting emotions roiled up inside of me.  Janet’s best friend was teaching my kids.  That meant that they were infinitely safe in comparison. It also meant I might get babysat less often. But it also meant I’d been replaced…again…by another giant.

A shrill harpy’s cry rang out.  “WHAT?!”  Raine Forrest leapt out of the receptionists chair so fast that it fell over backwards.  This was doubly impressive because being a wheelie office chair it shouldn’t have been able to do that so easily.  “MS. AMBROSE GOT FIRED?!”

All eyes were on us and Forrest as she stomped over to us, huffing and puffing. Aides, volunteers, teachers running late, parents trying to beat the school bus because their kid forgot to take something with them: every one of them was either looking right at us or doing their absolute best to not look at us.

“I don’t know anything about that,” Jessica answered sheepishly. “I was just told that the preschool teaching position was open and asked if I wanted it.”

Despite being within easy speaking distance of us, Forrest did not stop screaming. “THAT’S NOT FAIR! THAT’S NOT FAIR AT ALL!”

Tracy spoke up. “She hit a student. Multiple times. And me. What was supposed to happen?”

“HE ASSAULTED HER AND SHE DEFENDED HERSELF!” Forrest roared. “WHY IS SHE FIRED AND THIS LITTLE BASTARD GETS TO KEEP HIS FREE DAYCARE? HIS MOM ISN’T THAT GOOD OF A TEACHER!”

That lit a fire underneath Jessica.  “Excuse me,” she said, getting between me and Forrest.
“That is not how we talk in front of parents and students, that is not how we talk about our co-workers or their children, and that is certainly not how you talk about my friend and my godson.”

It wasn’t as forceful or as fuming as Janet’s previous dressing down, but there was a power to it.  In the way the two women carried and conducted themselves in that moment, Raine seemed like a tantruming toddler and Jessica was the adult firmly putting her foot down, telling her the behavior was unacceptable.

Fury in Raine’s voice condensed. Not as loud but just as angry. “Oh. So you’re one of them.”

Unbeknownst to us, another monster had entered the room.  “Miss Forrest.” A quiet, raspy, skeletal voice called out.  “Perhaps we should talk.”

And the volcano erupted all over again.  “FUCK YOU!” She shouted at Brollish. 

Brollish looked like she’d been struck  “I beg your pardon?”

“FUCK! YOU! THIS MANIPULATIVE SON OF A BITCH HAS CAUSED PROBLEMS ON THIS CAMPUS FOR YEARS! LITERAL YEARS! AND INSTEAD OF GETTING RID OF HIM YOU FIRE A PERFECTLY GOOD TEACHER!  HE SHOULD BE AT NEW BEGINNINGS RIGHT NOW GETTING TAUGHT A LESSON INSTEAD OF PLAYING IN BEOUF’S GLORIFIED DAYCARE!”

“See me in my office, Miss Forrest. Now.”

“NO!” Forrest stomped her foot.  “FUCK YOU! I QUIT! I CAN’T WORK HERE ANYMORE! I QUIT!”  She stormed out the side exit, slamming the door behind her.

Everyone else froze.  “That was unfortunate,” Brollish said. No one moved. “Get to your stations. Students are already unloading.  Have a nice day.”  The room sprung back into action as if Brollish had pressed the universe’s play button.

Jessica took a knee and knelt down to my eye level. “Sorry you had to see that, kiddo,” she said. “You okay?”

Tracy took one look at my awestruck face.  “Oh, he’s more than okay. Trust me.”  I was doing everything I could not to burst out in joyous maniacal, frantic, idiotic laughter; the kind of laughter that would risk me wetting myself even if my body hadn’t started slipping.  Both my newest and oldest enemies on campus had been removed in the space of five days. 

Bonus points: Ambrose had been replaced with someone who was as much her antithesis as it was possible to be and still count as an Amazon. Double bonus was this was someone who knew me and was inclined to humor me.  If I couldn’t look after my students directly, I could at least have the ear of the two people who were.  Tracy liked her too, meaning she’d stick around. 

Best. Grounding. Ever.

“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m very okay.”  I reached up and took both ladies’ hands. Tracy took the worksheets in her free arm and we walked out into the chill cold just as the final two buses were pulling up. “Hey Tracy?”

“Yeah?”

“Does Emiliano have any experience in telephone reception?”

If Tracy had been drinking coffee she would have spit it out. “It’s a good thing my hands are full or I’d smack you, you Little booger!”

Surprisingly, or not surprisingly, Jessica puffed out a bit of laughter.  “Okay. Yeah. You know Clark, alright.”