We filled the bike with gas and Meek had a brilliant idea. Inside they were selling those red one-gallon gas cans for $7.99. We bought one and filled it up too. You might think we were already over loaded on that bike but we managed to strap the tank to the front of the bike, where a headlight would normally be if it were a regular street legal bike.

There was one bad thing about that gas station. The bathrooms were being cleaned so I wasn’t able to go in and change out of my very wet diaper.

“We’ll find a place up the road.” Meek said as he climbed back on the bike.

While we had been there, we bought two hotdogs and a bottle of soda a piece. We had to eat the dogs and chugalug the soda before we could get back on the road.

“Where you boys headed?” this baggy skinned lady asked.

She was hanging out of the passenger side of a late model Buick. Though she wasn’t hot, she wasn’t a skank either.

Meek and I had already talked about this sort of question and were ready.

“Camping.” Meek said.

“Yeah. On my Uncle’s farm. A little ways from here.” I added, and not very convincingly, I might add.

“Well you best watch out riding a bike like that in these parts. The police around here love to harass kids for riding their off road toys on the streets.”

“That’s good to know ma’am. Sure do appreciate the warning.” Meek said almost sounding like he was some sort of southern hick.

“And what happened to you? You fall in a puddle or something?” she asked while pointing a long thin finger in my direction.

I looked down to see that the diaper Grandfather had taped me into this morning had not only sprung a leak, but also completely failed.

“Spilled some of his soda on himself.” Meek said for me.

“He did, did he? Well it looks more like that diaper you’re wearing isn’t doing the job God meant for it to do.”

I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. My entire head was burning and I had no doubt that my face was brick read.

“No need to be embarrassed. I’ve raised seven boys and two of them were in diapers until they went off to the army. The youngest still is.”

On cue this big, long haired guy, he must have been seventeen and stood at least six foot tall, came walking up to the car carrying two plastic store bags filled with stuff. My first thought at seeing him was that he looked like a walking mop.

“Did you remember to get my cigarettes?” the lady asked the fast walking mop.

“Yes Mom.”

“Everett, that boy wears diapers just like you do.”

The mop turned toward me, but it was hard to tell because the front of his hair was nearly as long as the back.

He pointed and laughed, “Hu-Hu-Hu! You’re all wet.”

I looked up at Meek for rescuing but he was looking at the mop and trying his best not to laugh. Granted, if I wasn’t so embarrassed, I might have found the guy comical as well. Like I said, he looked like a mop; however, he also seemed to have the intelligence of one also.

“Everett Nadder Junior! What have I told you about being rude?” She hissed strongly.

The skin of her face, the bit under her chin in particular, flapped and rippled as she yelled and shook her head.

“Not to be rude.” Everett mumbled.

“Now you get yourself in this car and drive Mommy home.”

She shrugged, raised her eyebrows, and said in an almost friendly voice, “You boys have fun camping and watch out for Bigfoot!”

The car sped away with odd urgency. It wasn’t until the gas station attendant came running out with a shotgun that Meek and I started to understand what had just happened.

KABOOOM!

The gun went off. A second later, we heard the tinkling of buckshot as it peppered the side of the late model Buick.