Trailer Park Baby

Chapter 1: Dave

I had just finished college and was looking for a cheap place to live, when I saw the ad for a mobile home for rent. I had lived in the dorms and an apartment and was tired of either seeing everyone’s or having everyone see my comings and goings. I went to see about renting the place and was surprised by the owner. She was about six-two, I on the other hand was just under five foot and didn't weigh one hundred pounds soaking wet. Inside the office I said, "I'm here about the mobile home for rent."

She looked at me, and said, "Sorry, I can't rent to a kid."

"Wait, here's my drivers license, I'm 21 and just graduated college. I'm looking for someplace cheap to live. I know I look like a twelve year old, but I'm not. If you don't believe it you can check with state."

She looked me over again, "I guess that I can believe you, but there is a slight problem, I don't own any of the trailers here except my own and the one for rent. It was abandoned and I got the title from the state for the owed rent. The trailer is only partially furnished. There is a couch, dinette set, but the bedroom set was trashed before the previous couple left. There is a second bedroom set, but it was for their four year old daughter. I can't supply another bed or anything else, which is why I'm having a problem renting it. You, though, might be small enough to use the bed that's there."

I was unsure, but the rent was less than half that of anyplace else I had checked. "Let's go look at the place then."

We left the office and walked next door to the trailer. The trailer looked solid and seemed to be in good shape. I examined the bed and was worried about sleeping in what was a toddler bed, a pink toddler bed at that. I looked over at the owner, and sheepishly took off my shoes and got into the bed. I got comfortable curled up in the position I slept in and found that the bed was just big enough for me.

I got out of the bed and slipped my shoes back on. "I'll take the trailer," I said, figuring at worst I could either sleep on the couch or floor until I got my own bed.

“You do have a job, right? I don’t want to rent to you and find out in a month or two that you can’t make rent. That happened to me once.”

Yes, I do have a job, a good one too. I write for a magazine,” when I said this she got a look on her face like, ‘Sure you do, some crappy pulp magazine at a penny a word.’ I continued, “Here let me show you,” and I pulled a copy out of my car, thank god there was still a copy there.

She looked at the magazine, Historical Aviation Monthly, and flipped it open. I got up on my tiptoes, “See there I am, Dave Wilson.” She looked; the blurb said ‘Dave Wilson gives his usual insights, this time with the B- 17 Flying Fortress.’

“Okay I guess you’ve got a job. Let’s go get a lease, and you can go over the rules for the park.”

We went back over to her office and home. I looked around, everything looked neat and clean, and I could see some kids running around playing, no parents watching them though. If the parents trusted the safety of their kids without having to watch over them, it must be pretty safe here. The only that worried me was that I could hear a dog barking.

We sat down at her desk, and she gave me a copy of the rules, which I read, while she filled out a lease. As I read the rules, I found out that all of the dogs had to be on leashes. Good that dog I heard shouldn’t be bothering me then.

“Dave, I have a question for you.” I looked up. “Normally, I require that tenants keep their own lawns mowed. I pay someone; well actually discount his rent, to mow the common areas. A couple of others pay to have their lawns mowed also. I was wondering if you wanted me to have yours mowed too. I figured that because of ... ah, your size that you well, might want that. You don’t own a lawnmower do you?”

“No, I don’t. Sure, I’ll pay to have it done. I never did like mowing lawns and my father made me do it all the time. It was difficult.”

“Ten dollars a month, while they’re mowed. Okay?” When I nodded she continued. “I’ve got the lease ready, have you read all of the rules?” I nodded again; there weren’t many of them. “Good, if you’ll just read and sign the lease.”

I quickly read the lease, it was pretty simple. I pay this a month; she supplies that, blah, blah, blah. “No problems.” I quickly signed and pulled out my checkbook and wrote a check for the rent and deposit.

"Just make the check out to me, Sarah Johnson. I'll help move the furniture if you want," she said.

As we walked back to my trailer, Sarah asked, “So how did you get the writing job, it looked like that wasn’t your first article?”

“That goes back to my freshman year. Actually earlier, ever since I learned about the first supersonic plane, and rest of the X-planes and their designers, I always wanted to be the next great aircraft designer. Unfortunately, I was not a very good engineering student, I would have graduated and probably gotten a job, but I would have been help, not really a designer. Fortunately, one of my other freshman classes was a history class. One of the assignments was a term paper; mine was on one of my favorite airplanes. The Corsair, you know the one from the Blacksheep show.”

“I remember that show, with Robert Conrad right?” She interjected.

“Yeah, I always thought that was one of the coolest looking airplanes. Well a couple of days after I wrote and turned in the paper, I got a call from my adviser. In his office I saw him, the Dean of the Engineering College, my history professor and someone I didn’t know.” By now we were in the trailer and started moving stuff around. I waited until we finished.

“Well the other person was the Dean of the Journalism school. They talked for a while, I listened and nodded. The next thing I knew they had designed a new major just for me. I have a degree in Aviation Journalism and a minor in Aviation History, probably the only ones on the planet. Looking back it was kind of funny, I had no idea what was going on and just agreed, because I thought that they might kick me out otherwise.”

We walked back to the office, where she gave me the keys and I continued, “My class load was strange, I had Journalism classes, History classes, and Engineering classes. But I didn’t do the real engineering work. I had to write two papers a semester for the engineering classes summarizing what they were about. I found out later that those papers, cut down a bit, are used as syllabuses, syllabi, whatever. My junior year I was put in touch with the editor of the magazine, and he offered to buy a few of my papers to be published. He knew the Engineering Dean and they had been sending him copies of my term papers, well I accepted and have had around ten articles published already.”

“That sure was nice of them to help you that way,” Sarah said when I had finished.

“It sure was, and I don’t know why they did it. I mean it was a lot of work on their parts, all just for me.”

Sarah looked at me for a minute and shook her head. I left wondering what she meant by that. I went back to my apartment and started to load my stuff to move in. It took a couple of days, but I finished. Then the other necessities, I stopped at Office Max and bought a computer desk and chair. I arranged for it to be delivered the next day. A couple of phone calls and the utilities were all on in my name.

I sat waiting for my computer desk watching bad daytime TV, while working on the outline for a new article for the magazine I was writing for. Of course just as I decided it was time for lunch the delivery truck pulled up. I stopped what I was doing and showed them where I wanted the desk set up.

The two deliverymen quickly and efficiently got the desk set up. They finished and I signed for the desk. The whole time I was getting strange looks from them. I had completely forgotten that the rest of the furniture in the room looked like a little girl's room. Oh well, I wouldn't see them again.

I finished my lunch and got my computer up and running. I proofed the article I had already written and sent it off to my editor along with the ideas I had for future articles. Then I started web surfing, looking to see how much I would need for 'real' bedroom furniture. And checking out the news.

I'd been there about a week, sleeping in the bed, the floor was too hard and the couch just too uncomfortable, when I went out to check my mail one afternoon. I locked my door and started walking down to the mailboxes when this huge dog comes charging at me barking up a storm. I froze as the dog got near. My neighbor growing up had sicced their St. Bernard on me all the time. The St. Bernard had never really hurt me, other than some bruises and scrapes when it would knock me down, but it always scared me. Now it was all coming back, this wasn't a St. Bernard, but it was big enough to knock me over, and it was charging me, barking like mad. As I stood there, I could feel my pants getting wet. Shit I was wetting my pants; I hadn't done that in a long time, since that St. Bernard had scared me.

Fortunately the dog did not jump on me and knock me down, but instead just bounced around me barking up a storm. Sarah came out about then and chased the dog away. She walked up to me, as I stood there unable to move. I was still terrified, not of the dog any more, it was gone. If she was anything like my father she was probably going hit me. She didn’t seem like she was lazy, so she’d probably beat me for a while.

When she grabbed me and led me into her trailer, I started blubbering about how the dog had scared me and how the St. Bernard had scared me when I was a little kid and that it wouldn’t happen again. After a while she calmed me down enough, so that she could actually talk to me. Then she offered to help me clean up. I accepted not thinking about what it meant. I was still surprised she hadn’t hit me yet, maybe she was waiting to spank me after I was clean.

She pulled me into the bathroom and helped me pull off my wet pants, socks, shoes and underwear. I realized then that I was now standing in front of her wearing only a T-shirt. She left with my wet clothes and said, "I'll find something for you to wear, just stay there, Dave."

"All right." Like I was going to wander around half-naked. I got a washcloth and started to wash up, when she returned. Now once I’m cleaned up she’ll probably spank me, I thought.

"Here let me help you." She took the washcloth and started to wash off my legs and groin. I was so embarrassed that I just stood there not moving. "There you are all clean. I found something for you to wear, but don't be worried, it was the only thing I could find that would be near your size."

I looked as she grabbed a diaper from behind her. "I can't wear that. I’ll just put my pants back on and run home.” All thoughts of her spanking me had fled.

"I've already thrown your clothes in the washer, and you really can't run around naked, can you? Besides I promise that no one will know. You can sit in the living room and watch TV till your clothes are clean."

I could hear the washer in the background and was stuck. I certainly could not go out naked and I guess as long as no one knew, I would be okay. "All right but make sure no one else knows." Maybe she wasn’t going to spank me. Now that I was calming down to where I could really think, I started to. She can’t spank me, she isn’t my mother or father or anything like that.

I lay down on the floor; she knelt beside me and proceeded to diaper me. I got up and went into her living room. Every step I took I could hear the diaper rustling, or maybe I just imagined it. Something weird was going on though, she hadn’t yelled at me or hit me or called me a big baby. My father did all three whenever I had wet pants because of the dog. Of course he yelled and hit me whenever I did something wrong.

As a matter of fact, I think she may have hugged me. No one ever hugged me before, except those cheerleaders and they were teasing me. I wish I knew what was going on.

She walked into the room, looking at me and asked, "Do you want anything? Soda? A beer? Milk?"

I shook my head and said, "No. Do you know how long my clothes are going to take?"

"Ninety minutes or so, why?"

"Shit. I'm expecting an important E-mail soon that I need to answer right away. I really can't afford to sit around here for an hour and a half."

"Well what are you going to do? Go out wearing that diaper?"

"If I have to, I have to get and answer that E-mail. Hey you don't have a computer that I could use do you?"

"Yes, I do, and I guess you can use it. Is it really that important?"

"It's for my job. My editor is doing a final check on an article I wrote. Where's your computer?" She got up and led me to her computer and I checked my E-mail. The message was there, but there were several facts that my editor wanted me to verify and I only had an hour.

After reading the E-mail and sending back a note that I would have facts back to him as quick as possible. God I hate deadlines. "I don't have a choice now, I have to check those facts and get back with him."

I logged off, got up and headed to the front door. As I was peeking out the window, she said, "If you’re leaving, I've got some errands to run. I'll drop your clothes off later when they're finished."

I couldn't see anyone or that dog out there, so I opened the door and headed back over to my place as quick as I could. About half way there I heard a car door slam shut and a car start. I turned to look and saw her pull out. I got up to my door and went to open it and realized that I had locked it. I went to reach into my pants pocket for my keys and there were no pants. I looked and I could see Sarah’s car disappearing in the distance. I was locked outside wearing a diaper and T-shirt and nothing else.

I looked around for a place to hide, but there weren't any. I ended up just sitting on the ground next to my stairs. I had been sitting there for five minutes or so when the dog came back. It bounded up to me and there wasn't anything I could do, I sat there whimpering in fear and humiliation. As dog started to lick my face, I realized that I had just wet the diaper I was wearing. After licking and sniffing me for a few minutes the dog took off.

I saw my landlady returning, so I jumped up and ran over to her trailer. Actually it was closer to a waddle, than a run, with the wet diaper. She walked up and looked at me, "I thought you didn't like the diaper?"

Blubbering, "You kept my keys, and the dog came back, and I couldn't get in, and I couldn't hide, and I was scared, and I had another accident, and you were gone, and I didn't know what to do."

"Well I'm back now," she said. "And we'll get everything straightened out for you. First let’s get you inside and into something dry." She unlocked her door and pulled me into a room, which I realized after a moment was a nursery.

She picked me up and laid me down on a changing table. There was a safety strap that she fastened over my arms trapping me on the table. "I'll be back I have to get some things out of my car."

I lay there waiting for her to come back. When she did she had a jumbo package of Size 6 Huggies. "I got these for you," she walked over and undid the tapes on the wet diaper I was wearing and pulled it off me. This time she cleaned me with some baby wipes and put one of the new Huggies on me.

She lifted me off the table, and I asked for my keys. With my keys clutched in my hand, I again went out into the open wearing only a diaper and a T-shirt. I got over to my home and went in. Over to the computer I quickly checked my reference material and e-mailed back the citations to my editor. Checking the time I realized that I still had fifteen minutes. Looking down at the diaper I was wearing I walked down to bathroom, took off the diaper and took a shower.

After getting dressed and sitting down to watch some TV, there was a knock at my door. I answered the door, it was my Sarah. "I see you've changed. Here are your clean clothes, and your wallet. I was joking about those diapers being for you."

"What? Oh that I wasn't really paying attention then. I got my e-mail off on time. So I should get my paycheck soon and then I can go get a new bed," I rambled on. "I want to thank you for the help earlier."

"Oh that was nothing," she answered giving me an odd look.