Yesterday, he was sure that he had pooped his diaper and not realized it. He had just zoned out for a moment- no more than a daydream- and when he came to, he was sitting in his own mess.
What was creepier; strange, alien thoughts were creeping into his head. Thoughts like: “What would that taste like if I put it in my mouth?”, or “If I cry loud enough, mommy will pay more attention to me.”
He kept most of this from Lysa as much as he could. She didn’t need to worry about this. She needed him for companionship, just as badly as he needed her for staying sane. She already knew he was looking for an anchor and hadn’t found it, yet. (She being as close as he got to an anchor right now.) No need to worry her with some kind of countdown clock
Oddly enough, immediately following breakfast, Dante and his friends did not get a bottle of milk. Instead they were taken directly to their playpen while the Judy in the nursery scrubs bustled around, making herself look busy. That was weird, normally right after breakfast was bottles and burping, following by trip time as the angel milk affected their minds.
“What’s going on?” Dante asked Lysa once they were set down in the pen.
“Must be communion day,” Lysa whispered back.
“Like with the wafers and grape juice?” Dante asked.
“No.” Lysa smiled. It was a sad smile, nervous too. “It’s where they take us to right outside the gates of Heaven and we visit with our relatives that made it in.”
Really? Dante would get to see someone who wasn’t in diapers that wasn’t a Judy? “Don’t get too excited though,” Lysa cut off Dante’s train of thought. “They still see and talk to us as if we were babies. Personally, I think it’s just another elaborate form of brainwashing.”
Meanwhile, the Judy was busy stuffing two diaper bags full of supplies.
“Let’s see,” the Judy said to herself, “Wipes? Check. Bottles of Juice? Check. Bottles of Milk? Double Check. Baby food? Check. Pacifiers? Check. Toys? Check. Book? Check. Changing mat? Check. Extra clothes in case of an accident? Check. What else? Oh my God!” The Judy laughed at herself. “Diapers! I almost forgot the diapers. How silly of me, they would have killed me if I hadn’t packed any diapers. Helllooooo Judy!” she smacked herself lightly in the forehead.
“It’s the closest thing a lot of these Judy’s get to a day off.” Lysa told Dante. “Not that they really need one.”
“Huh,” Dante remarked, “Why is she only packing two diaper bags, then?”
“Midori’s not going,” Lysa said quickly.
“She doesn’t have any ancestors that are in Heaven?” Dante asked.
“Well,” she thought for a moment, “she’s been dead for only a little over 11 or 12 years. Her parents are probably still alive. Her grandparents might be too.”
“What about other ancestors?” Dante asked.
Lysa shrugged. “For some reason, they never introduce you to people in your family who died before you were born. Same thing goes with family members that never knew you existed.”
Dante scratched his head at that. “I guess long lost relatives are too much of a hassle.” Dante chuckled at a thought. “Heck, if you take the Bible literally, we’re all descended from Adam and Eve.”
“Yeah,” Lysa allowed herself a smirk, “I guess there’s something to be said against extended families. Besides, wouldn’t it suck to find out that you and I were somehow distantly related?” She winked at him.
“Uh huh,” Dante nodded, starting to drool slightly. “Wait, we’re not related, are we?”
“No.” Lysa laughed. “At least you don’t look like anyone from my family.”
Speaking of which…“Wait, why are you going?” Dante questioned. “I thought you said your father killed your family.”
“Yes,” Lysa rolled her eyes, “and we all know that murdered people don’t go to Heaven.”
Before Dante could ask any more questions, their Judy came, scooped the two rugrats up, and buckled them into the twin stroller, diaper bags loaded. Midori waved goodbye from her playpen, as the Judy in the green dress wordlessly approached and they strolled off. As their stroller was wheeled around the corner, Dante and Lysa were pushed out a door that definitely hadn’t existed until right before that moment.
After weeks indoors, the blast of sunlight, tyrannical sunlight…barely did anything to Dante. It was actually surprisingly gentle. He wasn’t blinded at all. Dante winced from expectation, more than from anything else.
Dante looked around from the stroller. Below his feet, was what looked like smoothed blocks of paved concrete, like a sidewalk. It wasn’t very wide, either. Dante estimated that maybe two strollers of this size could fit on it, but not much more. The Judy was walking on the right side of the sidewalk, and since Dante’s baby blue half of the stroller was on the left, he was on the inside of the track.
Looking outward, on the left and right of the floating sidewalk, Dante saw a ten foot drop, and only clouds after that. No ground or sky below, only clouds. You couldn’t see anything else. It was like all of those cartoons of the afterlife, where angels walked on clouds as easily as if they were solid. Only difference here, no on was walking on these clouds.
“Where is this?” he finally asked Lysa.
“They call it the narrow path.” she said. Well named.
“Aaaand, what happens if you go off the narrow path?” he wondered.
“You fall.” Lysa told him flatly. “Very. Very. Far.” Dante didn’t need to ask any more questions on that.
About twenty feet ahead, Dante could see another stroller, with a Judy pushing it. Ahead of that stroller in the distance, was another stroller. Beyond that was another stroller. Dante was pretty sure that behind them, soon enough, would be another stroller. They moved steadily for about 15 minutes of relative silent.
“So,” Lysa broke the silence, “who do you think you’re going to meet here? Why are you coming along for communion?”
Dante shrugged and searched his memory. “I dunno” he said finally. “My parents aren’t dead yet. I hope. Maybe they died in a car crash coming to try and save me. Maybe they committed suicide. Probably not, though. I hope.” Dante didn’t like the idea of talking about his mom and dad being dead. It felt like he were wishing death upon them. Then again, it wasn’t so bad if you ended up in Heaven. Limbo or Hell though…Dante shuddered.
“If they killed themselves and were older than us, they probably wouldn’t have gone to Heaven.” Lysa added. “But don’t’ worry. You’re young to be dead right now. So it’s probably not them.” Lysa was probably right. Who could it be though?
What must have been Heaven came into view in the distance. Tall spires and glorious palaces rose on the horizon. Bright lights and auras shone forth. There were two suns right now. Dante didn’t know how he knew, but this was Heaven. It’s like how one knows Disney World as soon as the giant Mickey ears come into view. There was something hardwired into his brain to recognize this place and know what it is. This though was the Taj Mahal, the Great Pyramids of Egypt, Disney World, and the Emerald City of Oz all rolled up into one and multiplied times infinity. Since the Tower of Babel, no human language has been able to accurately describe Its grandeur.
Just as it came into sight, the strollers ahead of Dante seemed closer. Just like at Disney, the line was starting to slow down and condense. Dante heard the crying of other babified Limbo inhabitants as the line grew more packed, their Judy’s doted on them as if they were just fussy infants, which most were- in mind if not always in body.
“Sooo…” Dante asked to break the silence. “You ever been in?”
Lysa smirked. “Nope. Never will either. They’ll let moms, dads, uncles, aunts, cousins, and grandparents come out and play with us, but we never get to go in. At least the walls aren’t too high so we can see some- Turn your head!” She cut herself off as her eyes widened. Dante immediately snapped his head around the other direction. Lysa was peeing.
A few minutes later, their Judy checked their diapers and declared both of them wet. She pressed a button on their stroller and their seats tilted back. Then she came around and changed them. Dante and Lysa held each other’s hands while the angel did her work. Proclaiming both done and “aaaalll better”, she balled up the used diapers and tossed them over the side of the floating sidewalk. Dante watched as the clouds swallowed them up.
“You know you could have told me you were wet too,” Lysa chided Dante. “I would have looked away while you were going.” Dante looked ashamed. Dante hadn’t even realized he was wet. “Typical boy,” she giggled nervously, “you’ll go anywhere in front of anyone.” Her giggle didn’t hide anything. She knew he was starting to lose it. She knew.
As they got closer, the clouds rolled up next to the sidewalk and were replaced by green grassy fields. Lush, green grass rolled around with big shady trees. It looked a lot like an old fashioned park. All around, Dante saw families playing with children. As expected, regardless of actual physical age, each “child” was dressed as though they were no more than a year old. Dante even saw some actual newborns being cradled. Sad to have died so young, but at least they were with their parents now.
“Let me guess,” Dante said turning his head to Lysa, “Elysian fields?”
“Got it in one.” Lysa confirmed. “Though I’ve heard the Judy’s refer to it as ‘The Garden’ before. Probably Eden.”
“Either way,” Dante added, “it’s the archetype of a natural paradise.”
“Yeah,” Lysa agreed, “I can think of worse places to spend time away from the nursery at.” Dante couldn’t argue with that.
The sidewalk ended at a patch of grass. The gates of Heaven were still far off in the distance, but Dante saw no further strollers. There was a small tent labeled “Limbo Stroller Parking” that Dante saw another Judy push an empty stroller into it. Looks like he was now at the front of the line.
Two figures walked up to the stroller. A man and a woman; vaguely familiar. The woman had her gray hair put up in a bun. She had laugh lines on her face and silvery gray eyes. Her blue blouse and ankle length gray skirt complimented her sandals and unpainted toe-nails. The man kept his white hair trimmed short and close cropped. His blue eyes didn’t match his red and white checkered shirt. Nor did the shirt go particularly well with his blue suspenders, gray pants, and black loafers. Still, he had a self-assured smirk that Dante had inherited and a nose that unmistakably belonged to his father.
He remembered! His Grandparents! It had been over a decade since he had seen either one alive. His grandfather had died of cancer when he was a little over two years old, and his grandmother had died from a stroke two years later. As a result, most of Dante’s memories of them weren’t actual memories, but stories that his parents had told him so often, that the stories had become the memories.
They looked almost exactly like they did in his baby pictures. Old, but fit, strong, and healthy. If there was such a thing as being “in their prime” and “elderly” at the same time, these two looked it.
As soon as he recognized them, Dante’s hands shot down to cover his diaper. “Don’t bother,” Lysa told him flatly. “It’s not like they recognize you as anything other than a baby, anyways.
His grandma ran towards the stroller. “My grandbaby!” she squealed as she repeatedly pecked his cheeks and forehead with kisses. She smelled of lilacs. His grandpa strolled up and knelt down; he smelled of tobacco and peppermint.
His grandpa took Dante’s hand in his own and said, “Well hello there, grandson.” before dramatically grasping his arm in mock pain. “Ow, ow, ow!” his grandpa said, withdrawing his hand and shaking it in the air as if it had been in a vice. Dante hadn’t even squeezed. “Quite a grip yah got there. Yer gettin’ strong, yessir.” Dante wasn’t sure what to do, so he just stared. “Hmm,” his grandfather said when Dante didn’t respond, “he used ta love that one. ”
“Frank,” Dante’s grandmother said to his grandpa, “he was two back then. Now he’s too young to get that joke.” So they did remember him being older. For some reason, they only thought he was a baby now. Did senility develop and carry on after death? Grandma unbuckled Dante from the stroller and hoisted him up on her hip with nary a groan or grunt. She shouldn’t have been able to do that.
Maybe the Judy’s weren’t actually super strong. Maybe something had been done to Dante and the other “babies” do make them easier to move and pick up. Or maybe this was all an elaborate disguise and attempt at deception. Who says that angels couldn’t shape shift?
The Judy handed his grandfather the blue diaper bag. She started talking to them. “I made sure to pack everything you’ll need for the day. Diapers, wipes, bottles, toys-”
“Thank you kindly, Miss Judy.” Grandpa said cutting her off. “But we’ve had yungins before, ma’am. We can handle ol’ Dante for a couple a’ hours.” The Judy smiled graciously and nodded. The three of them turned away and began to walk through the fields. Dante looked back and saw another elderly couple approach the stroller and pick Lysa up. They looked about Grandma and Grandpa’s age. They must have been her grandparents.
Grandma carried Dante as easily as any Judy. Grandpa was constantly shifting the diaper bag from shoulder to shoulder, never comfortable. “Geez Molly,” he joked, “I think they packed enough stuff in this baby bag to make a whole ‘nother baby.”
“I offered to carry the bag, Frank,” Grandma replied, “but you insisted.”
“I did.” Grandpa confirmed, giving Grandma a smirk, his eyes gazing lovingly into her eyes.
Grandma returned the smile and patted Dante’s bum. “His mother and I had just managed to get him out of diapers when I last saw him.” she sighed, “Now he’s right back in them.”
“Why do you s’pose they’re turned back into babies anyways?” Grandpa asked.
“Some things we weren’t meant to know.” Grandma answered. “Maybe it’s to lessen the pain from being separated from the Heavenly Host. Maybe things are just simpler at this age.”
“I’m not a baby,” Dante jumped into the conversation. “Seriously, I’m not. I’m just dressed as one.”
“That’s right, Dante!” Grandma cooed at him. “You’re just our little man, now. Oh but you’re soooo cute!” Great. They acted as though he were a baby too. Maybe these two really were Judy’s. The Judy’s ignored his speech and treated it as baby babble. Then again, the Judy’s refused to acknowledge that he was ever anything other than a baby. When he had first arrived in Limbo, one had looked at his soiled briefs and insisted that they were a ruined cloth diaper. Grandma remembered him being potty trained at one point. Fuck. It was getting harder for Dante to remember being potty trained.
“How do you think Bob and Julie are holding up?” Grandpa asked, continuing the conversation.
“Not well I’d imagine,” Grandma said.
“Nope. I reckon not. We’ll have to pray for them- see if we can convince an angel to watch over them for a while.”
They came to a shady oak tree. A checkered picnic blanket that matched Grandpa’s shirt and straw basket waited for them. There were even some backless benches nearby to sit on.
“Here we are.” Grandma announced. “And it looks like everything is where we left it.” She set Dante down in the middle of the picnic blanket.
“Course it is, Molly,” Grandpa chuckled, “who ’round here would steal anything?”. He set the diaper bag down by the edge of the blanket.
“Oh quit picking on me!” Dante’s grandmother slapped Grandpa playfully on the shoulder. “Anyways, it’s time for Grandma to play with her grandbaby!” She sat down in front of Dante and covered her eyes. “Wheeeere’s Grnadma?” she said. She uncovered her eyes. “There she is!” She repeated the game. “Wheeeeere’s Grandma?! There she is!”
Dante just stared at his grandmother and shook his head slightly. “Seriously Grandma? Seriously?”.
If she didn’t understand the words, Grandma obviously understood the tone. Her face drooped a little in disappointment. Then she tried covering his eyes. “Where’s Dante?”
