A Comedy of AR's

Chapter 37
Going Someplace

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The following morning, I got up and started playing on my laptop for the first time since it was confiscated.  Sure enough, Sammantha had installed ‘parental controls’ to block out all the ‘naughty’ websites.  In addition, she could now review on her own laptop, a list of all the websites I had clicked on.  This didn’t feel like role play anymore.  She was literally treating me like a child … and I felt like a child when she did stuff like that.  I wanted to complain, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good.

Sammantha suddenly barged into my bedroom without her usual greeting of ‘good morning sunshine’ and she didn’t look happy.  I was startled and cried out, “Mom!  I’m not looking at porn.  I swear it.”

That turned out not to be what was on her mind.  She threw a red carry-on suitcase with wheels onto my bed.

She instructed, “Pack up your things, Derrek.  You’re leaving in an hour.”

“Mom, what?!”

Sammantha returned immediately to her bedroom.  Just when I thought that things between me and her were getting back to normal, she gives me an order that makes no sense at all. Now, she was treating me like an orphan.  No, I’m not just going to ‘pack up my things Derrek’.  I had a right to question her motives.

Even if I get punished, this is one order I would not obey.  I took the red suitcase, carried it back to her bedroom, and threw it on her bed … and yes, she looked surprised.

She responded, “I beg your pardon?”

I lashed out.  “Mom!  I think I have a right to know why you’re sending me away!  If it’s because I stabbed Chikon and got blood all over your room, then so be it.  I’m sorry.  If it’s because I got Putz’s semen on your dress the other night, I’m sorry about that too.  If I’ve disappointed you with my poor behavior last week and had to be punished, then that’s another thing I’m sorry about.”

Now, my crying started and I couldn’t help it.  “I’ve tried so hard to be a good boy for you, Mom, and I don’t know what more I can do.  I’ve always looked up to you as my hero but now I can’t understand what I’ve done that would make you want to send me away.”

I sniffed back tears.  “Maybe I’m not the ideal little boy that you were hoping for. Maybe you’re trading me for another boy … maybe Daniel.”

“Who’s Daniel?” she asked.

“No one.”  I began crying hysterically.  “I never thought it would end this way.  Where am I supposed to live now?  With Dr. Frumpy?  With the Crudup family?  How about with Margaret the furniture sales lady?  You kicked me out of my own bedroom.  Why not just kick me out of my apartment too?”

“Mom!” I continued. “After the babysitter left, you strip-searched me when all you really had to do was talk to me.  You want to strip-search me again?  Would that help?  Fine!”

I started ripping off every article of clothing on my person … even the underpants.  I faced away from Sammantha and bent over … spreading my butt cheeks with my hands.

“Don’t forget to check my butt hole, Mom … That was really important a few days ago!”

If Sammantha had taken the opportunity at that moment to tee off with her sorority paddle, it would not have surprised me.  But she did something else.

“Sweety, as long as you’re standing there in the buff, I’d like you to try these on.”

She presented me with what looked like a pair of Spiderman boxers.  I grabbed them out of her hand and threw them across the room.  I screamed, “No!  I won’t do it!  You can’t make me!”

She went to retrieve the item and commented, “Well, sweety, you can’t go scuba diving in the buff.  You’ll need a pair of swim trunks.”

My lungs were heaving in and out heavily and it took me awhile to process her last statement.  She handed me a box of tissues.  (I think I needed a box.)

My voice was almost hoarse.   I finally said, “Huh?”

“Tighty whities won’t work either.  These are your new swim trunks.  I hope you don’t mind that Spiderman is on the outside.”

“Swim trunks?  Mom, are we going to the ocean?”

“Nope … the sea.  We’re heading to St. Thomas in the US Virgin Islands to go scuba diving in the Caribbean.  It’s a US territory, so we don’t need passports.”

“Are we flying there?”

“Technically, we could swim there from Buffalo, but going over Niagara Falls would be the tricky part, so flying would seem to be more practical.”

This time I put on the trunks.  “They fit great, Mom … Thanks, but I’ve never done scuba diving before.  Is it scary?”

Sammantha removed a card from her wallet. “Let me show you something, sweety.”  

I looked at it and asked “What does PADI stand for.”

“Professional Association of Diving Instructors … Meet your new teacher.”

“Woah, Mom … There is nothing you can’t do.  You’re amazing.  But back to my question.  Is it scary?”

“It can be a bit scary for some people the first time someone tells you to put your head under the water and keep it there.  Try this … hold your nose shut and breathe calmly and evenly through your mouth.”

I tried it.  “Well that doesn’t seem too hard.  But what if we run into a shark?”

“Not to worry … I’m a shark whisperer.  Just don’t panic.  Don’t thrash around.  We’ll only be doing shallow diving, 20 to 30 feet, so we won’t have to worry about getting the ‘bends’ if we stop for three minutes at 15 feet on the way back up.”

“Will you stay with me?”

You’ll never be more than an arm’s length away from me.  We’ll be starting off in the sea, no swimming pools for us of course.  Oh, and can you swim? … fine time for me to be asking.”

“Sure, Mom … Before the curse, I used to swim a lot … And sorry about my tantrum.  I guess I’ve been kind of paranoid lately.”

“You did spoil the surprise, but you also have a very good point.  I should make you aware of what’s going on … Speaking of which, you were correct.  After we get back from this trip, I’m trading you for another boy.”

Before I could even say ‘huh?’, Sammantha grabbed me by my Spiderman trunks, threw me on the bed, and started tickling me.  I knew she was teasing and just wanted to get me laughing instead of crying.

She added, “I love my little boy soooooooo much!”

“Hey Mom, don’t we have a plane to catch?”

She checked her watch.  “Three hours.  Let’s get our butts moving.”

The Buffalo Niagara International Airport was located northeast of town and not too far from our apartment.  I’m not sure how many connections Sammantha has with doctors, lawyers or ‘sketchy’ patients who see her, but she was somehow able to create ‘adoption’ papers and birth certificates for a kid named Derrek Adams for any age from one through eighteen … And she packed all eighteen of them in her carry-on … and used the papers for a ten-year-old today.

After we cleared security, we boarded a large plane for a flight headed to Miami for a brief stopover before continuing on to St. Thomas.  We were situated in seats 27B and 27C.  I was super excited. 

“Middle or aisle, sweety?”

“Middle’s fine, Mom.  I’m smaller than you.

“If the window seat stays empty, you can take it.  I’ll stow our carry-ons in the bins.”

Two minutes before the doors shut, a plump elderly lady (gray hair, glasses) headed our way and pointed to the window seat.  (so much for the window).  Sammantha got up, but the lady told me to just sit. 

As the lady passed in front of me, she also passed gas … a fart bomb strong enough to rival Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined … (or if I were a seismologist, I’d have to rate it a 9 point 2 on the Richter Scale) … and there was no escape.  I wished that I could reach up and grab that little oxygen mask that they tell us would drop from the ceiling during an emergency … This was an emergency.

The woman commented, “Oh dear, my derrière liked you so much, it blew you a kiss.”

As we all buckled our seatbelts, she turned to me and added, “Do you know what one farting Pharaoh said to the other farting Pharaoh? … We have a Toot-in-Common.”

She wasn’t done.  The jet rolled down the runway, picking up speed.

“You know, I was so thrilled as I was walking toward the back of the plane when I realized that I would be sitting next to such a handsome young man.  I taught middle school boys your age for over forty years.  And the best part of my job was that I could fart as I pleased and then laugh as all the students blamed each other.”

I turned to my right.  “Mom, how long is this flight?”

“About three hours, sweety.”

“Do they carry parachutes?”

I felt a tap on my knee.  “Young man, do you know why it’s rude to fart in elevators?”

This time, I felt like answering her.  “Because it’s wrong on so many levels … I’ve heard that one.”  I hoped that would shut her up.

After awhile, we received our drink and little snack, and the plane leveled off at an altitude of about 34,000 feet.

That’s when Sammantha gave me a little nudge with her elbow.  “Sweety, it’s time.”

I was puzzled.  “Time for what?”

“For our first bucket list item,” she replied with a sly smile.  “We’re going to join the ‘Mile High’ club.”