I saw that madness come over her again. This was bad. Just like all the guests had before, Janet approached me on the couch. The only difference was I wasn’t in anyone’s lap. I was the complete center of attention. Janet’s. Beouf’s. The I.E.P. Team’s. Jessica’s. Fuck, even Renner looked up from his phone.

This would not end well.

“I ordered this late Thursday night and I was afraid it wouldn’t get here in time,” Janet said. She started ripping the box open.

I felt confused and disoriented. It was like the wrist rattle but without the euphoria. “What got here in time?”

“I thought that since you’re going back to school on Monday,” Janet paused and nodded towards Mrs. Beouf. “That it might help to ease the transition if I got you a special outfit for your first day.”

I felt numb. “Special? Outfit?”

The ensemble she removed and presented before the assembled crowd was forged in the very fires of my own personal Hell. The pants were simple and khaki, neatly pressed and pleated with an elastic waistband and a belt sewn in for show. The collared button up shirt was a onesie with plenty of room in the front and back for an expanding diaper. The tie was a clip on at the top and a pacifier caddy on the other. The slippers were fluffy recreations of leather loafers.

It looked…

It looked…

“It kinda looks like what he used to wear when he was teaching!” Mrs. Springfield laughed.

They laughed. They all laughed. And laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Real funny. Super cleverl. Great gift…

“So Clark?” Janet asked. “What do you think?” What did I think? What did I think?! “Do you want to try it on?”

I stood there, glassy eyed, jaw trembling. Saying nothing.

“I think he’d look cute” Someone said. I don’t know who. My ears started ringing. My vision was narrowing.

“He always did!” Another distorted out of focus Amazon agreed.

“This is perfect! Just perfect!”

“I need to get one for my Little!”

“Clark?” Janet coaxed me. “Baby? Do you want to try it on?” She reached her hand out, beckoning me. “Come on. Let’s try it on.” I wasn’t breathing. “I think you’ll like it. You’ll look super mature and grown-up in this.”

I don’t have the skill to put into words the exact onomatopoeia that erupted out of me in that moment. I started screaming. I started roaring. I started crying. I was screaming and roaring and crying all at once.

I reached up to my head and started yanking at my unnaturally curled and reddened hair yelling incoherently as I tried to pull my own hair out like stubborn weeds. Face itching I started clawing at my cheeks praying to draw blood from myself. Only saline and snot coated my face, however. I so wished for blood.

I was crying. Ugly crying. And roaring. I couldn’t see clearly and I felt unsteady and I wanted to stomp even though my feet would make no noise on the cushy couch. If the coffee table hadn’t been moved back towards the T.V. I would have hurled myself off the sofa in an effort to crack my head open on it and splatter my brains all over the worn out coasters.

“Clar-?”

“FUCK YOU JANET!”

The Amazons gasped like I was a grotesque demon. But they didn’t move. They didn’t dare.

“FUCK YOOOOOOOOOOOU!” Still there was shocked silence. “WHAT?! IS THIS SOME KIND OF JOKE TO YOU? A-HA-HA! LOOK AT THE LITTLE! LET’S DRESS HIM UP LIKE A GROWN-UP WON’T THAT BE FUCKIN’ CUTE?!”

“Clark!”

“YEAH! LET’S DRESS THE LITTLE FUCKIN’ BABY UP LIKE A GROWN-UP! HE WAS NEVER ONE OF US ANYWAYS AND NOW WE DON’T HAVE TO HUMOR HIM SO IT’S FUN WHEN HE WEARS SUITS AND TIES, BUT WE CAN’T LET HIM FORGET, CAN WE?” I turned on the crowd. “CAN WE?!”

“RENNER JUST HAS TO SHOW UP AND THAT’S GOOD ENOUGH! I BUST MY ASS AND NONE OF IT MATTERS! AND I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT WORK, I MEAN EVERYTHING!” Renner’s lip curled up in anger but didn’t say anything.

“AND I’M JUST THEEEEE FUCKIN’ BEST! I’M SO GOOD WITH KIDS!” I screamed at the I.E.P. team. I didn’t even have the self-control to make my voice go into a mocking falsetto. “I’M SOOOOO GOOD AT IMPLEMENTING THERAPIES AND CONNECTING WITH STUDENTS AND PARENTS AND FOLLOWING THROUGH IN THE CLASSROOM! GOOD LUCK DOING YOUR FUCKING JOBS WITHOUT ME!” I inhaled; out of breath. I wasn’t done. “NOW YOU’LL ACTUALLY HAVE TO DO YOUR JOBS! OR MAYBE NOT? MOST OF YOUR PATIENTS ARE LITTLES! YOU DON’T HAVE TO FIX LITTLES! YOU JUST HAVE TO BREAK THEM IN JUST THE RIGHT WAY!” The whole gaggle of witches looked distinctly uncomfortable. Good.

“Clark,” It was Beouf. “You’re feeling some really big feelings, right now-”

“GO FUCK YOURSELF, MELONY!” She stopped, but her expression was passive. “YOU THINK YOU’RE SO GOOD WITH KIDS? YOU DON’T ACTUALLY WORK WITH KIDS! AND IF YOU ARE SO GOOD WITH THEM, WHY IS YOUR DAUGHTER KNOCKED UP AND MOVING BACK IN WITH YOU?! YOU SURE SET HER UP FOR SUCCESS!”

Everyone else looked shocked, disgusted, and distinctly uncomfortable. Beouf took my tongue lashing on the chin. I might as well have just said baby babble to her.

“CLARK GRANGE!” Janet leered over me, abomination of an outfit still in hand. “YOU APOLOGIZE RIGHT THIS-!”

“FUCK YOU, JANET!” I stared right back at her, defiant. Her teacher glare had no effect, and maybe, just maybe I had a little bit of my old mojo back in that moment. I was crying and screaming and had absolutely no ability to modulate my voice, but it was the most powerful, the most in control I’d felt in…well…forever. For once the Amazons were listening to me, really listening. No more mincing words. Time to speak my truth. My angry, angry, truth.

“IF YOU WERE FIT TO BE A WIFE MAYBE HUBBIE WOULDN’T HAVE SCREWED AROUND ON YOU! IF YOU WERE FIT TO BE A MOTHER- A REAL MOTHER-MAYBE HE WOULDN’T HAVE GOTTEN HIS NUTS SNIPPED! MAYBE HE KNEW SOMETHING YOU DIDN’T! MAYBE EVERYBODY HERE IS SO SUPPORTIVE OF YOU PRETENDING TO BE A MOTHER BECAUSE THEY ALLLLL KNO-!”

A blur. Impossible speed and I was taken off my feet. Impossible strength and I was laid out, belly side first, down over Janet’s lap. The infantile mock up of my old dress code was abandoned on the living room floor, the back of my purple shirt was lifted up and my purple shorts were hiked down to my ankles. I could feel the shadow of her palm preparing to strike me.

I had won. I had broken Janet, and gotten her to show her true, typical Amazon colors. And my reward, I knew, was going to be the public beating of my life. The first time I’d been spanked by an Amazon, the bitch had been just trying to get me to comply.

Janet? Janet was mad. Full fucking furious.

I started peeing, the second round of apple juice having more than caught up in my bladder. Even through the padding, I knew, this was going to be the most physically and emotionally traumatizing thing in my life. This was going to hurt more than the last spanking, more than the bug zapper, more than anything I could imagine. Too late, I found that my terror outweighed my own righteous fury.

“PLEASE MOMMY!” I begged. “DON’T SPANK ME! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I WAS NAUGHTY MOMMY! I’M SORRY!” I was lying and I knew it. Janet probably knew it too. “I’LL BE A GOOD BABY! I’LL BE GOOOOOOOOOD!”

Everyone else knew I was lying too. Through my own blubbering I saw distasteful looks and murmurs of “gotta learn”, and “consequences” and “discipline”. Only Beouf seemed to be in the minority. She stood there front and center, her arms folded over her chest. Was she staring at me? Janet? Both of us?

A roar of Janet’s own came screaming out. “GrrrrrrAAAAAAH!” I flinched and braced myself. This was the end.

But Janet’s hand did not strike me; any part of me. “Excuse me!” The world went into fast motion. Janet was carrying me through the crowd out of the living room and into the side hallway.

Into the nursery I was carried, holding my breath. Was she going to beat me in private? Gag me? Torture me? I was on my back, strapped down to the changing table. She squeezed the front of my diaper roughly. “Wet,” she whispered. My shorts were still somewhere in the living room.

Was she going to double diaper me and leave me to fester and stew in my own mess? Give me an enema? A suppository?

No.

She changed me. She just changed me. It was rougher, angrier, than the last few she’d given me, but it was just a diaper change. Just as quickly, she plopped me in the crib. I stared up at her through my tears and saw that she had a crop of her own dribbling down.

“You’ve hurt Mommy’s feelings, and she’s very upset right now!” she said. Then she said something that pissed me off even more. “But I still love youuu…” Her voice went up a note as she choked back sobs.

She left the room and locked the door.

In the immediate silence, and the stunned quiet of the house, I could hear her sobbing; her guests shushing her in comforting terms.

Good. Let her scream and bawl and shout and sob about how unfair everything was. That meant no one would be able to hear me do the same.