The following day, which was Saturday, I had met up with Sean at the park as we had planned. My rash hadn’t totally cleared up yet but I was well enough that I was able to talk my mom into letting me go outside for a while.

When I arrived at the park, Sean was already there. He confessed that he’d been there since first light. He was flying a remote controlled blimp, and when he saw me coming, he let loose the controls to wave and nearly sent the thing floating into a tree.

We hung out at the park for over an hour and never once did the subject of diapers or wetting come up, even though I was thinking about them the entire time. Much to my anguish, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t figure out if he was wearing anything more than underwear under his pants.

When all of the battery packs for the blimp were drained, Sean asked if I would like to come to his house. I tried not to seem too eager, so I looked at my watch and acted like I was checking the time before I agreed.

Sean handed me a red plastic tank with a futuristic looking brass valve at the top and a sticker on the side that read, ‘HELIUM’. It was heavier than it looked and I guessed it had to be heavy to keep from floating away when full of helium. I also carried the remote control while he lugged the blimp. It wasn’t until we reached his house and he let the blimp go that I noticed it didn’t weigh anything at all. Now, if Mark had pulled something like that on me, I would have pounced on him, pinned him to the floor and tickled him until he cried uncle, or until he wet himself, whichever came second.

I must have appeared to be mildly disgusted because Sean said to me, “Hey you are bigger than me, and besides, I carried that thing all the way to the park when it was still full!”

“Still full?” I smiled and continued, “But it wouldn’t have weighted hardly anything when full of helium!”

Sean smiled, shrugged his shoulders and laughed, “What can I say?”

I laughed as I said, “Uhuh, I see how you are now!” and let it pass with no further comment, but I made a mental note not to fall for something like that again.

“Want to see my room?” he asked, “I have my own TV and computer.”

“Wow, you lucky dog!” I commented.

Sean laughed more than I thought he should just then, but then he explained why, “I have a dog named Lucky.”

“No way!” I said in disbelief.

“Yes way!” He assured me, “He’s out back; I’ll show you.”

There was a door inside the garage that led into the house, just the same as at my home. Sean stopped halfway into the house. I hadn’t been paying attention and walked right into the back of him.

“Watch it!” he laughed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…” I started to say.

“Sokay,” he said blending his words into one. I think he meant to say “It’s okay”.

“Need to kick off your shoes;” He said, “not allow shoes on the carpet.” For a brief instant my brain flashed back to my dream last night and I giggled to myself.

Beside the door that led from the garage to the inside of the house was a tall, narrow set of metal wire shelves with several pairs of assorted shoes. Sean and I added our shoes to the collection and then went into the house.

His house was spotless and sparsely decorated. I could tell right off the bat that at least one or maybe even both of his parents were neat freaks. He led me through the dining room, which looked as though it had never been used before. Without opening the sliding glass door, Sean pulled back the white shear fabric curtain and tapped on the glass with his knuckle.

You could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw his dog. Big doesn’t come close to describing it! “I’m sorry, that’s not a dog! That’s a fat horse!”

Not missing a beat Sean replied, “Would you believe he’s just a puppy?”

“No!” I answered.

“Good, ’cause he’s older than me!” Sean laughed.

Then, I asked the dumbest question, “Is he allowed in the house?”

Sean laughed again, “Yeah, but then my dad would use my head for batting practice.”

“What kind of dog is that?” I asked.

“Good old American mutt,” Sean said with an odd sense of pride.

I chuckled, “Must have some horse, or buffalo, or maybe both in him.”

“Is there a reason you named him Lucky?” I asked.

Sean closed the curtains again and was careful to make sure each pleat was perfect, “I didn’t name him that. He was my real dad’s dog before I was born.”

It suddenly dawned on me how quiet it was inside the house, “Is anyone else home?”

“Nope, mom’s working again this weekend and my step-dad is in Detroit for a convention.”

I wasn’t really interested, but to keep the conversation going, I asked him, “What kind of convention?”

Sean was leading me further into the house as he answered, “Don’t know. Something to do with work, I think.”

Just as expected, the living room furnishings were sparse and totally dust free.

Sometimes, things get said that in retrospect would have been better if they never were said and my next comment was one of those times, “How does your mom keep this place so clean?”

“She doesn’t, my step-dad does.” And I knew instantly by the tone of his voice that I’d just stepped on a landmine. I didn’t pursue it any further but the mood in the air had become noticeably strained.

He led me down an L-shaped hallway to a closed door with a red stop sign on the outside. It was smaller than a real stop sign and below the word ‘STOP’, it read…