Chapter 20: Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend.

May 11th, 2023, Creston, California - Earth

Benjamin blinked as he stared again at the Blu-ray menu. He had been broken from his stupor when the front door had been kicked close. He felt like he had not slept, but he was confused. A minute ago, it was midnight, and now it was six thirty in the morning. Light was starting to come through the windows into the living room. The TV was looping a patriotic tune, but it was starting to hurt his eyes to look at the screen. The colors were wrong. Watchable, but not for long periods.

“This is like the worst food Earth has to offer that is still edible, please don't judge us on this we know it's bad. I got it because it is fast, and it is cheap, and we have delivery.” Oliver's arms were loaded with bags draped in 'M's. He carefully put the bags on the table and went back to the front door to grab several drink trays.

Benjamin watched the short man and was confused. Something was different here. Previously Oliver had a chunky aura, with a posture that could be blown over, and inquisitive eyes above a beautiful smile. Now he looked thin, bounded with energy. He was not taller, but he had gravity in Ben's mind. Not a man, not even a tweener, but not a baby. Definitely not a toddler.

Oliver could easily get in a fight with a goose and kick its butt. No three-year-old could beat up a goose. Oliver could catch a football if he tossed properly, maybe hit a thrown baseball with a bat, even skate on ice. If the boy was on a team of soccer players, he would not spend the whole time running after the ball, instead he might listen to what the coach wanted him to do and play a position.

Benjamin could not recall the last time he had seen one of these. He worked with littles, who were babies, and amazons, who were grownups, and his family was filled with adults, and his immediate peers maybe had very young babies and toddlers of their own, or in a few cases adult children. Oliver did not look like a baby. He saw babies every day. This did not make sense, Oliver was not something foreign, just unusual. Yesterday he had seen a puppy, and now in the morning light he found a fox.

Benjamin tried his best to start a conversation, “I, uh, sorry, do you need help with your garments this morning? I'm here if you need me.”

Oliver shut him down, easily. “Benjamin, I don't wear diapers. I haven't worn diapers since I was four.” He was placing recycled pseudo-foam packaging and the paper wrapped breakfast sandwiches in an organized pattern on the coffee table, each one with an accompanied fried potato wedge. He let the giant choose his poison. Ben quietly looked down at the boy, not wanting to believe it was true, and Oliver took a moment to slap his own butt to confirm he had normal underwear on.

“But you had damage from the war, right? I thought...” He thought he would get a chance to change the diaper today. He kind of needed that right now. He grabbed a coffee, unsure of the tiny straw. He removed the cap and slurped the whole thing in one long go. It was the greatest thing he had drunk in his life, a bold but simple dark flavor that had been prepared with hot water over espresso. It was not sweet, like most little drinks, instead it was bitter in a way that few foods on Amazonia were.

Oliver finished laying the feast out, “Sorry, the coffee's kind of mid, but whatever. Bad coffee is sometimes what you need to get up in the morning.”

Oliver stopped stalling and finally answered, “I'll be honest, I did need to wear them for a bit in the hospital. Fifteen years ago. Got a bit too close to a big old explosive, radiation does a number on the bowels.” He pointed at the Blu-ray case. “I see you found a copy of the documentary. I suppose it told you everything you needed to know.”

“I don't remember anything from your movie. I must have fallen asleep. Plus, the colors on your television are off.”

Oliver looked at the screen, everything was fine. He grabbed the remote and flipped to a news broadcast. “Looks fine?” Maybe this was a response to the hypnotics? Biofeedback? I.E.D.R was working with some advanced technology, and not all of it was understood.

“No. It's missing a color. What's the color after violet?” Ben asked.

“Indigo,” Oliver answered immediately.

Benjamin shook his head, “No, the other way.” How was it you could ask a little a question and they would find a way to give an answer that was both correct and absolutely the wrong one you wanted?

“Ultraviolet?”

“No... the color. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet...” It was on the tip of Ben's tongue. His mind could not turn over. Oliver shrugged; the giant was being stupid.

“Are littles color blind?” Ben had never considered littles saw the world differently.

“What?” Oliver did not want to hear he had a disability, “I mean, sure some of them, green and red or whatever. My eyes are perfect.”

“Amaryllis. That's the color. Roy – Gee – Biva.” The coffee was helping him think, focusing his mind, “Is that why it's called the yoU-Vee side of the tape? You can't see the, oh.” His face scrunched as he tried to avoid saying it. Lying to Oliver was no longer optional, “You can't see the warnings.”

Oliver put down his McGriddle on the coffee table. His hands were covered in grease. It was six thirty in the morning. It was not a good time to find out there was a whole new color to the visible light spectrum. Ben had to be messing with him, right?

Except, Oliver remembered he had given him the command not to do that. At least, he thought he had. Was Ben still allowed to make shit up, provided he was honest about it? Was there a term for that?

Benjamin tried some of the pancakes. They were flat. He would say tasteless, but it was offensive in abundance of starch and sweetness. Not even hot sauce would save this. He tried another coffee, downing the cup in three gulps, it was better than the first drink. He returned to the eggs, he was surprised to learn it was possible to screw up something as simple as scrambled eggs, but another mocha saved the day.

Oliver stepped away from the buffet, opening his arms wide to show the feast available, “Just eat whatever you want, I got one of everything. Don't eat something if you can't stomach it.”

Ben was now up to his fourth coffee, he needed to tell Oliver this. It was bothering him. “Oliver, why are you different today? I don't know how to describe it. It's like you're no longer cute. You were a beautiful boy yesterday, and we played airplane and I read you a story, and now, it seems inappropriate.”

Oliver snapped his fingers and jumped up with a frightful shout. He did a dance with excitement. “And they said it would not work. We showed them Benjamin. It's working! Yesterday I was a toddler. Yesterday I was three at most?”

“Well, except when you were a tiny, big person.”

“Ask me my age.” It was a bold challenge. No little ever invited a grown-up to guess their age.

Benjamin did not want to know. This monster had done something to his perceptions. “How old are you, Oliver?”

“Well, it's hard to tell, you know, I traveled to lots of dimensions off Earth, time doesn't always flow one to one. But I think from your perspective I'm six. One, Two, Three, Four, Five, and Six.” He held up a finger each time he spoke a number.

Benjamin had not seen a six-year-old in a while. Maybe in an ad or a magazine. Sure, Oliver was on the short side for a six-year-old, but he could believe this young boy was in … no.

“What did you do to me? Littles are babies. Forever. They don't grow up.” Benjamin asked the questions but also did not want to know the answer.

“See, today six, tomorrow nine, by the weekend eighteen. It'll be great. We can be friends again. Adult friends. You'll see me as I see myself. And if we can narrow down exactly what's happening up in that noggin of yours, we can make you see all of us the way we see ourselves. Dwarfs, Hobbits, tiny people, that's all fine, but we're not children or babies. Then if we do it to you, we can do it to your whole planet. We're going to save everyone Benjamin. Won't that be great?”

Benjamin tried gently hitting the sides of his head with clenched fists. This was a nightmare. He was being manipulated, tricked, and forced to believe a lie. The tiny ones became babies and then nothing else. They did not grow up. If they did, that would mean they would not need to wear diapers anymore.

“Oliver, you can't do this. It's not. Please. Stop. Just. You want to know what's up with us, right? We work together with the littles, we need each other, and they need us, but we also need them, and we can't help them if we think they're big kids, or adults. They wouldn't need to wear... I mean.” It sounded dumb, but it was essential, core to the experience.

“They wouldn't need to wear diapers. You're correct. No one wants to wear them, Benjamin, if they don't have to. It's humiliating, and the worst part, the shame isn't even their own. It's yours. They don't have a choice in the matter, you do. Choosing to shame others and humiliate them is beneath you, but you do it anyways. Like making fun of someone for saying the wrong word, what does that say about you when you do it?”

That was the worst part, Oliver was now old enough that Ben had to listen to him, and sometimes six-year-olds were actually smart and right about things. Like maybe one time in ten, but it wasn't zero.

Benjamin drank another coffee, a hint of caramel in a rich dark-roast espresso, steamed over milk. Incredible. He pat the couch, and hinted with his body he wanted Oliver to join him. Oliver walked around and sat next to the bigger man.

“OK, I think I know how to explain it. Let's start with basic philosophy. Which is better, unconditional love, or conditional love?” Benjamin needed to make things easy for the guy, but this was also kind of fun. He could have an 'adult' conversation with a little for once. He might even teach Oliver something here.

Oliver snapped off an answer, “Conditional love. Where are you going with this?”

That was wrong. No philosophy course taught conditional love was better. He needed to just make Oliver see he was incorrect using logic and deduction. He thought for a second about the best choice of words, what rhetoric would elevate his argument into an unchallenged position.

“Oliver that's incorrect, it's unconditional love. Anyway...” Oliver would not let him get a word in.

“No, it isn't. 'Man naturally desires, not only to be loved, but to be lovely; or to be that thing which is the natural and proper object of love’” Oliver had memorized that line. Smith was a philosopher first, seeking to understand morality and society, and became an economist to explain those systems.

“OK, well, just pretend I'm right for a second, we'll fix the propositions and assumptions that led to that mistake later.” Benjamin moved his hands out to emphasize his points, building into things. Oliver let him go forward without interruption.

“It's like this. When a little wears a diaper it's an act of trust. You go about your day, having fun, and you fill this thing up, it's growing and taking your burdens. And you bring it to a grown up and you say, 'here I am, take me at my worst, at my most disgusting and most vulnerable. I am the least lovely thing in the universe. I have literally pooped and need you to take my poop away.' And we go and say, 'Yes, we see you, we understand you, and you can trust us. We will still love you despite this. There is nothing you can do to break our love.'” His hands came together, fingers crisscrossing.

“See, it's like an affirmation ritual every day. The little is giving us a gift. Well, not a gift, but just the one thing he can make in the world, and it's entirely his accomplishment and the best he'll ever do. The grown-up, without any hesitation, takes this gift, wipes your toosh, and brings you into a new diaper. It's a fresh start every time. Like becoming a baby again, free of all sin or error, and that new diaper it's how you know our protection and love will be there for you. You know you are safe and secure.”

“When you told me you don't wear diapers anymore, you're breaking the trust, Oliver. You can't do that. The whole society would collapse if we couldn't help each other. We need to change you, so you know how much we love you.”

Oliver just sat there, not saying anything for about ten seconds. “Um, Ben, that's maybe how it is for you, and I can see and respect that. Conditional love is like the sun to us small ones, and unconditional love is like a candle. In the darkness you'll take a candle, but you'd rather have the sun. We want you to respect us for what we do, and who we are, not for being little poop machines. You could replace everything you said with like, a pet monkey or whatever and it'd apply just the same.”

Benjamin had never heard the argument put that way before. Maybe some small one had said something in the past, but that just went in one ear and out the other. Oliver had just performed a symbolic attack on one of the core assumptions of his being. Amazons were forcing littles to only experience unconditional love, misinterpreting their desperate latching, and cuddling as happiness. Littles did not turn to Amazons because they desired unearned love as their highest goal. Littles attached to Amazons because this was better than no love at all. The Amazons did not offer paradise, they offered a life raft that was barely enough to survive. To become a baby again was a worthless pathetic existence, their gracious attitude was the thanks of a drowning man, surrounded by sharks, who had been rescued by pirates.

Littles desired a higher form of happiness; one they could never earn if they were forced to crawl and drool and could not articulate their thoughts. Everyone wanted to be better, and the Amazons were breaking the trust, just so they could get their own unearned love from the small ones.

“I'm sorry Ben, if I had known how important diapers were to you, I would have peed my pants for you yesterday. I can't wrap my head around seeing the world how you do, but I respect and acknowledge it.” The way Oliver said respect and acknowledge, it was foreign to Ben, but it also sounded shallow and dismissive. Oliver had a trained polite voice, but the subtext was clear that he thought Ben's opinion was stupid. Oliver had given the giant space to humiliate himself in front of the boy, and Oliver did not even bother to shame him afterwards. Like he saw Ben as unworthy of the correct answer, some deeper truth Oliver had learned. He would let Benjamin continue his descent into being a fool.

“You still can.” Benjamin said it sadly, but Oliver laughed at the joke. His kid had gone from serious and dour to jolly and happy in seconds. No matter how big a six-year-old can be, they were still children. The giant joined him in a joyous roar.

“You going to be fine here today? Try to get some rest. We'll talk about what we want to do moving forward when I get back tonight. If you go outside, don't go past the road. I didn't tell the neighbors we'd have a giant here and I think they might freak out.”

“I'll be fine.” he whispered. His eyes glancing at the tablet. Oliver was already up, heading to the door. Now with the suit jacket, tie, shoes, and slacks, he was a completely different person. He could carry a ring at a wedding. Sing the Unification Day songs in a pageant. He could recite the Gettys Burger Address. He carried the clothing well, looking sharper and taller than anything Ben had worn. Benjamin looked down at his rumpled tee-shirt and wrinkled slacks. He had not even showered in two days.

Benjamin stopped Oliver at the door. “Hey, um, what do I do with the excess food?”

“Just throw away what you don't eat.” Trash food into trash. Oliver had not even technically paid for the meal; he did not care.

“Oliver! You can't just throw away food. There's starving children in...”

The boy cut him off. He had grown up hearing the same thing from his mom and dad. At the time he had not been able to tell them no. Finally, he was an adult, and he could respond as an adult should. “Where Ben? Where are there starving children? Itali? Hankokku? I have a portal gun, right here, I can go deliver our half eaten McMuffins and dump it right in their laps. That's how it works, right? If we don't eat it here, they get the rest, right? You're telling me I need to eat more of this so they can't have any? That doesn't sound either logical or right.”

It was the first time Benjamin ever had to deal with sarcasm from a small one. Not in all his years of teaching, or as a student, had anyone smaller than him disrespected him in that way. He was a fool and he had earned it.

“Benjamin, do you know why your planet has a food crisis? Why you struggle to feed yourselves? It's not because of war, or disease, or bad weather. It's because you take half your population and instead of letting them contribute to their fullest, you make them just another mouth to feed.”

The door slammed shut behind him as Oliver left. When he made it to his truck, he tilted the rear-view mirror and looked at himself hard in the face, his fingers and hands gripping in and out tightly. He needed thirty seconds to calm himself.

It was that stupid story about diapers. He had tried to let it pass, joke with Ben, but then the big had to bring up that shallow parental wisdom, that only served to shame children who were picky eaters but had no place in the world of adults.

It was not just what Benjamin had said, it was the hand movements. Captain Alder used to do the same thing in mission briefings. He just wanted his friend back and here he was talking about poop. Oliver promised himself he'd make it up to the tall one, he just didn't know what that would look like. Maybe Sea World? Could he get a day with just him and the giant? Or the ocean? How far would it be to the Grand Canyon? He needed something special just for the two of them.

Benjamin let the silence in the house wash over him before getting up and looking out the window. Oliver's truck pulled out just as he pulled aside the curtains. He made his way to the couch and pulled up the tablet. Twelve, Zero, Seven, Sixteen. The A to Z site was still there, still on the book he had read last night. He returned to the website's homepage; his eyes tantalized by the moving pictures. Everything he could imagine was available to him. Plus, Oliver had said he could use the credit card.