With Friends Like These

Chapter 3
THREE

Four days had passed since they left that dentist office together, since Ben had finally been able to be open about his relationship with Hannah, since they had revealed their love to Greg. Not that he’d minded of course. He hadn’t even understood Hannah had been his partner before. As far as he was concerned Hannah was his adoring Mummy and Ben his Daddy. He’d left the dentist office holding their hands, swinging between them like all was right in the world. And for him it was. In the days since Ben had also grown more and more comfortable in his new role as daddy to a big toddler boy. He’d come to really adore Greg, to see him as his lovely little boy, to relish his cuddles and cute lisping voice.

Today they were taking another big step. It was time to go to the playgroup Hannah had learnt about through her friend Emily. That was how this had all begun, seeing what had become of Emily’s husband Jim, learning about the dentist with the special services. But it was Ben’s job to get Greg there, bring him for the playdate. Hannah was working and would have to join them a bit later. He had to get Greg dressed, get him in the car for a long journey for a toddler.

Of course it was only an hour and Greg would have thought nothing of it a week ago. He’d have plugged his ear-buds into his ears and listened to his music, or maybe just had a long nap. But the only music he wanted to hear now was Old McDonald and the like. Naps were for the afternoons only and not to be looked forward to or taken voluntarily. He had so much energy, he needed to fidget and squirm. He wasn’t made to sit still anymore.

That’s why Ben decided to stop at the supermarket before they hit the highway. They’d get Greg something to eat to keep him busy for a bit. He’d also been allowed to bring a few toys with him for more distractions. Ben couldn’t blame his buddy for his fidgeting, his squirming. They’d taken away his self-control, stripped away his patience, his maturity. It wasn’t his fault he had such a dramatically shortened attention span.

Ben parked the car and went around to the back seat. Greg was strapped into a specially made car seat that kept his feet from touching the floor. The front passenger seat was kept moved all the way forward to give him space to wiggle, to swing his legs. A baby blue dummy bobbed between his lips as Ben leant across the man’s six-foot frame to undo the buckle between his legs. Greg was wearing a green t-shirt with a cartoon monkey design, one he loved because he always giggled when Ben called him a little monkey. Complementing the shirt was another set of board shorts, these ones bright blue with flames designs down the sides. They were baggy enough to conceal the thick pull-ups he wore beneath them for now.

Ben gently pulled the dummy from Greg’s mouth, a line of spittle dribbling down his chin as he released it.

“You ready to be my special helper and do the shopping?” Ben asked his old friend brightly, tucking the dummy into the nappy bag sitting beside Greg.

The twenty-something man nodded eagerly. “Geggy hewp!” he agreed.

Ben mussed up the man’s short hair affectionately. “That’s right, you’re a good helper aren’t you?”

Greg giggled. “Uh-huh!”

Ben took his friend’s hand and helped him up out of the seat. Greg stepped out of the car, his bare feet settling on the warm pavement of the car park, his long bare toes wiggling a bit in delight at the sensation of warmth on his bare soles. His baggy board shorts fell well below his knees once he was standing. It was a very juvenile style, perfectly matched to his monkey t-shirt and bare feet. He didn’t mind it one bit, he was happy to wear whatever Daddy put him in.

Ben held his friend’s hand firmly, well aware how easily he became distracted. Greg had no sense of self-preservation, no ability to discern dangers and avoid them, no impulse control at all. He could see a pretty bird and dart out in front of a car while trying to touch it. The hypnotic treatment had been far more complete than Ben could have imagined. When Greg wiggled his toes in that dental chair he really did let every adult thought and ability empty from his mind. Not just a few select ones, but every bit of adult maturity and intelligence was wiped from his brain.

“You don’t run away now. You be a good boy and hold Daddy’s hand,” Ben instructed him seriously.

Greg nodded his head with wide eyes, chewing at his right index finger. Ben took that as understanding, not of the dangers around them in a car park, Greg was incapable of understanding those now. No he understood he needed to be a good boy for his Daddy, who did the thinking for him now. He needed to be good and hold Daddy’s hand.

If they were going to a mall or even a busy park Greg would have to be put on a big toddler leash so he didn’t run off. Ben didn’t like using the leash because it attracted a lot of attention, but it really was necessary and saved him having to constantly tighten his grip on the man’s hand. But for the supermarket the leash simply wasn’t feasible.

So Ben kept a tight grip as they walked across the car park, his sneakers smacking on the pavement with dull thuds and Greg’s bare feet making softer thwacking sounds. Greg would never have allowed himself to be seen without shoes on at someplace public like a supermarket. He saw it as the height of bad taste, of slovenliness. Now he smiled as he felt the cooler linoleum floor under his bare soles.

Ben noticed the bigger smile and asked, “Was the ground too hot out there buddy. Did you get ouchies on your footsies?”

Greg shook his head. “No boo-boos,” he said. He had only questioned why Mummy and Daddy wore shoes once. He hadn’t even asked why he wasn’t wearing any, simply why they were, like he couldn’t understand what shoes even were. Hannah had explained to him that adults needed to wear shoes because they were grown-ups and it was just expected of them. But little boys and girls didn’t need shoes, everyone thought they were cute going barefoot. And he’d accepted that completely, never even mentioning shoes again.

Ben pulled a trolley from the queue and helped Greg climb into it. He wasn’t very coordinated anymore. But he managed to get into the big bin and sit with his back against the front, feet pressed against the wire mesh of the back, facing his Daddy. Ben watched his buddy’s toes wiggling around the wires, noting the bare soles of his feet were indeed totally blackened after four full days without wearing a single pair of shoes or socks. His slender, long adult feet had the dirt layer befitting a rambunctious little boy. The soles were already starting to thicken too, he could tell. They were changing to match his new lifestyle, his new mentality.

Other shoppers glanced at the odd sight of a man sitting in a trolley, barefoot and in a cartoon t-shirt, but no one said anything. As Greg sat there sucking his thumb and pointing at sugary treats he wanted, babbling his desires to ‘Daddy’ it was obvious he was mentally challenged. No one wanted to be caught staring at the poor retarded man, so no one gave them more than a quick glance. Greg was oblivious to the looks anyway. He was enjoying his thumb, the motion of the trolley ride, the feeling of the metal wires sliding between his bare toes as he wiggled them.

At one point they stopped next to a woman pushing a trolley with another little boy in it. He appeared to be about three, a blonde-headed little tyke in a cartoon t-shirt, baggy board shorts and bare feet just like Greg. The little boy smiled at Greg and gave him a little toddler wave. Greg returned the gesture with his free hand.

“Mummy him suckin’ his thumb,” the little tot called out to his mother, pointing at Greg.

The woman frowned at her boy. “Danny, don’t point. Mummy told you that’s not nice.”

The boy lowered his arm and frowned.

“What do you have to say?” she asked him sharply.

“I sowwy,” he answered quietly.

She nodded then turned to Ben and said, “Sorry about that.”

Ben waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I think my little guy here and yours are on about the same level, mentally I mean. So I know how it is.”

The woman nodded and smiled again. “Danny is almost three,” she said.

“Greg is basically a two-year old,” Ben told her.

She nodded, a little less happily. “Well he looks quite happy,” she said.

“Oh he is. He’s really a very sweet little boy, though he can make quite a mess of himself,” Ben added.

Now the woman was smiling again. “Yes, toddlers are like that.” She lowered her voice and added, “This is about as dressed up as Danny ever gets. Mostly we leave him nakey so he can’t ruin too many outfits.”

Ben chuckled and nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. Greg here hasn’t worn a pair of shoes in days. No point in dressing them up when it’s not expected or required.”

“No I completely agree. Danny doesn’t wear shoes at all in the summer. Bare feet really are best for little boys. Let’s them really experience the world I think.”

“I gots bare feet Mummy!” the little toddler announced, hopping on those feet in the trolley, trying to get attention back on him.

“Yes you certainly do,” his Mum agreed, patting his head to his delight.

“Me gots bawe feeties,” Greg declared too, raising one right up to the rim of the trolley, displaying the dirty sole and long wiggling toes for them to see.

Ben knew Greg wanted the same kind of attention he’d watched the ‘other’ toddler get, so he obliged. “You sure do. You’re daddy’s barefoot little boy,” he crooned, leaning over and patting his head too. Greg luxuriated in the attention, beaming and lowering his foot back down.

The woman bid them farewell and both boys waved bye-byes to each other before Ben pushed their trolley away. Greg was absorbed with a sticker book for the rest of the trip and by the time they reached the cashier at the checkout Greg had a dozen stickers on his face, arms and legs. He looked innocently up at the cashier when she noticed him and said, “Got stickas,” holding up the book to show her.

The cashier couldn’t help but chuckle and Ben shook his head. “Sorry, he got a bit carried away.”

“It’s fine,” she assured. “He’s a real cutie.”

Ben smiled. “You hear that buddy. The nice lady thinks you’re a cutie.”

Greg giggled and nibbled at his fingers shyly.

“Do you work for a care home?” the cashier asked him.

“Oh no, he’s mine full-time. There was an accident and, well, he’s a two-year old now basically.”

She frowned and nodded compassionately. “I’m sorry to hear that. But it’s so lovely that you’re taking care of him. He’s very lucky to have you.”

Ben nodded. “Thanks, but I’m happy to do it. I was big brother but now I’m Daddy and that’s okay with me. He’d have done the same if it was reversed.”

That always made him picture it, imagine what it would be like if the situation was reversed. What was it like sitting there in that trolley with dirty bare feet, playing with stickers like it was the most fun activity ever, sucking his fingers and babbling nonsense to himself? He couldn’t help wondering what made Greg give in and wiggle his toes for the hypnotist. What had that felt like?

Ben loaded the groceries into the boot and then helped Greg out of the trolley and back into his car seat. He carefully threaded the man’s arm under the seat belt and buckled it snugly over his crotch. He glanced down at the man’s feet dangling limp a few inches above the floor. He reached down and gave him a tickle, running his fingers softly along the length of those filthy soles.

Greg giggled and squirmed.

“Are you happy Greg?” Ben asked. “Are you a happy little boy?”

Greg was still smiling from the tickle and he nodded. “Yeff Daddy!”

“You don’t wish you were bigger, like me and Mummy?” he asked.

Greg blinked, looking a bit confused. “Eats bwoccowee so’s I be big,” he then answered, parroting what Hannah cooed to him when he shunned veggies.

Ben snickered. “Yes, that’s right. You do need to eat your veggies like a big boy. But what about being a grown-up. You want to be an adult like me?”

To his surprise Greg’s face screwed up and he shook his head.

“You don’t? Why not?” he asked honestly.

“Don’ getta pway. Don’ get methy. Gotta hab shoes,” he declared with clear dislike.

“And you like getting messy and playing don’t you?”

Greg gave a big nod. “Methy boy!”

Ben patted his mate’s bare feet gently, giving his big toe a wiggle. “And you like going barefoot.”

A giggle and a clear nod from Greg told him that was right.

He brushed his hand across Greg’s soft cheek. “I am so happy you feel that way buddy. Daddy just loves you so, so much and I want you to be happy. I’m so glad we did the right thing for you.”

Greg seemed awed by this outpouring of love and he eagerly reciprocated. “I woves Daddy,” he cooed.

Ben leant in and pulled his friend into a tight cuddle, feeling the man hugging him back right away. “I’m head over heels in love with you sweetie,” he whispered. And it was so true. He felt more love and care for Greg now than he even did for Hannah. He could feel Greg’s love for him, so pure and unadulterated. Greg needed him. His love was unconditional and complete. Being with him, caring for him was intoxicating.

They cuddled for a full minute before Ben pulled back and planted a big long smooch on Greg’s forehead. Then he slipped the dummy back into the man’s mouth and closed the back door, heading to the driver seat. It was an hour’s drive they still had to make but Greg was very well behaved for it, still basking in the love he’d just felt from his Daddy. He ate his crackers and cheese sticks and then played with some of his toys for a bit. When he was bored of those he took to pulling at his feet, using them as toys to entertain himself with.

Ben would glance in the mirror and be amazed at how easily entertained Greg was now. At one point he checked the mirror and saw Greg had those long dirty toes jammed between his lips, sucking away at them like his dummy.

“Are those toes yummy?” he called back.

Greg grinned around the dirty toes mumbled, “Yeth!”

“You’re daddy’s silly toe-muncher eh?”

“Mmmhmm!” came the happy murmur, toes still firmly in his mouth, tongue probing them.

What would Greg the uptight germaphobe have thought? Those filthy toes had been all over the ground, the floor of the supermarket, the park, everywhere. And now they were in his mouth. He would have been horrified. He probably would have vomited. Now he just smiled, he grinned and giggled and clearly thought there was nothing better than exploring his toes with his mouth, tasting them and nibbling at the toe-nails. What perfect innocence.

 

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