Pru drifted closer until she was directly behind the distracted girls. Foot traffic slowed. Bodies pressed closer together as they neared the spook house line. Ahead, a toddler writhed on the ground in the middle of a tantrum fit. Her fists and feet pounded the pavement, her face red as she howled at the top of her lungs. Pru’s upper lip curled in a snarl at the noise.
She glanced around once. No one watched her. She stepped silently closer to the girls. Her hand dipped into Rosie’s pocket. Her fingers curled around a smooth plastic oval ring attached to something. She guided it out, hidden in the palm of her hand, then into her own pocket. She smoothly turned and walked away. All this occurred in the span of a few seconds.
She walked between two food stalls and behind a bounce house before she examined her latest prize. A pacifier. A large one. Too large for a baby or child. Perfect for an adult. Little Rosie was a raver? She didn’t strike Pru as the type. Rosie wasn’t a kandi kid or a tweeker. First impressions could be wrong, but Pru considered herself a good judge of character. Girls like Rosie didn’t get high. They stole the occasional beer or wine from their parents. Cut school. Broke curfew. Acts of childish teen defiance.
Pru turned the pacifier over in her hand, examining it. The shield was green. The button yellow with a cartoon turtle on it. The handle was blue. Colored more for a boy than a girl. A prop for a Halloween costume? There were some scratches on the plastic and teeth marks on the large rubber nipple. It was too realistic, too well used to be part of a costume. Could this belong to a diaper wearing, teddy bear carrying, anxiety prone, crippled doll maker?
“Only one way to find out. Besides, returning it is the right thing to do.” She grinned, revealing very sharp looking teeth. She tossed the pacifier into the air, caught it and put it back in her pocket.
Finding the boy was easier than she expected. Two fold up tables had been set up under a canopy in case of rain. A sign, hand written in sparkly, rainbow colored marker, read “Donations for Newton No-Kill Animal Shelter”. Beneath it were drawings of a cartoon puppy in a ghost costume and a kitten in a witch’s hat. Empty chairs were scattered behind the table. A few had purses or bags on them. Several half empty to-go cups littered the table. A big glass jar labeled “Donations” contained more air than money. Next to the jar was a plastic bowl filled with little packets of sugar free gummy bears for when the kids trick or treated later in the evening.
An older teenaged boy sat in a wheelchair a few feet back from the table with the sign. He was like a prettier, masculine version of Rosie. The two could be siblings instead of cousins. He gazed down at his feet and the footrest of his wheelchair. He clutched a teal and blue tiedyed teddybear to his chest. The bear wore a pirate dress. A white babydoll diaper peeked out from the ruffled skirt. The diapered boy diapered his bear. Cute. Pru’s lips quirked in a half smile. Every so often, a shudder ran down his thin frame.
Prudence hid in the shadows of a booth across the street, watching him. The boy had to be Lucas. He fit the description to a T. She’d put money on it. He wore a footed, fuzzy blue sleeper. His costume, like the pacifier, was too detailed, too realistic to be just a costume. It looked like a sleeper for an oversized infant. Not an adult sleeper from Target or Walmart. This one zipped up the back, like a baby’s sleeper did. It also had poppers in the crotch for easy diaper access. The sleeper was loose on his thin frame but puffed out at the crotch. The outline of a very thick diaper was visible through the heavy fabric. His diaper was just too big and bulky to be concealed. Two of the poppers on his crotch were open, showing off his own bulging diaper. The white plastic was tinged yellow, signaling his diaper was not just part of a costume.