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June Flash (double-length) #1 - "Bubble Brain"
🕑 Added 2023-06-02 13:40:28 +0000 UTCNgatea, New Zealand
February
Daniel has the nightmare again. He wakes up in a cold sweat, but he’s warm and wet around his groin.
“No,” he whispers. He pulls back the bedsheets. “Come on.”
He’s wet the bed. Pissed himself. The perfect ending to the dream. He thinks of his twenty-one-year-old brother, Oliver, sleeping peacefully in the room next door. Ignorance is bliss.
Daniel is weeks away from his 18th birthday. Is this the source of his bad dreams? If he thinks about his brother, then surely it is. Because Oliver was about to turn 18 when it happened. Some kind of breakdown, when they still lived in England, leaving Daniel’s clever, ambitious, inspiring brother a simpleton.
After much handwringing and appointments with experts, Mum brought her two sons back to her home country of New Zealand. Two final years of secondary school for Daniel, and a special school for Oliver that didn’t have graduation ceremonies. Oliver, who plays with toys a five-year-old would reject as babyish, would never learn to read or count. A forever mental toddler who their mother loves:
“He's innocent, he’s an angel. Our forever little boy.”
Daniel loves his brother too. But he also sometimes calls him, in moments of exasperation or teasing, ‘Bubble Brain’. A nickname that sounds cruel or playful, depending on the delivery.
Oliver has no problem with the name, of course, he adores his ‘big’ brother. Mum puts up with the nickname as well, although she also reminds Daniel how lucky he is.
“There but for the grace of God, I could have ended up with two ‘special’ boys.”
So, perhaps it’s reasonable for Daniel to have terrifying dreams of ending up in the same condition. Because couldn’t it be genetic? The experts said it was unlikely, and Mum hadn’t looked worried when Daniel had told her about the nightmares.
“You’re just getting stressed about finishing school. Probably worried about leaving home!”
She gave him something to help him sleep better, a herbal remedy that she sprayed on his pillow at night. Sure enough, he found himself asleep in seconds, but if bedwetting is the result, he’s better off staying awake.
What now? Daniel gingerly gets out of bed, pulls off his shorts. He imagines himself calling for his mother, reporting the news. Will she still be reassuring or will she decide that this is the start of something much worse?
Daniel imagines the morning routine for him and Oliver – two brothers getting dressed in their special school uniforms, getting taken to the school and given bye-bye kisses from Mum. From Mummy. Daniel knows what the school is like, he’s seen inside the classrooms. It’s not a place of learning, more a daycare for broken adults.
No, he’s not going to tell Mum. He will strip the bed, put the sheets in the washing machine. In the morning, it will look to Mum as if her younger son has matured in the night, taking care of his own laundry. And everything will be fine. Dreams don’t actually mean anything, and one little accident doesn’t mean he’s like Oliver.
If it did…Daniel loves his brother, but he’d rather die than suffer the same fate. He shudders. A twenty-one-year-old man, barely able to string a coherent sentence together.
He bundles the sheets and his wet shorts in his arms and opens the bedroom door.
“’Wake?”
Oliver stands right there, looking at him quizzically.
“I…I’m just…” Daniel feels caught red-handed. But then he remembers, he can run rings around his older brother these days. He returns the questioning look. “Why are you up?”
Oliver looks down at himself, fidgeting with his fingers, as if he can’t remember why he’s out of bed. Standing there in his thick training pants, underwear that Oliver is easily persuaded is for ‘big boys’ but really just are adult-sized toddler training pants, complete with red piping and decorated with racing cars.
His face brightens. “Can’t sleep!” he says.
“Okay,” Daniel says, making a hushing gesture with his hands, about to drop the sheets. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
“Story?” asks Oliver hopefully. Stoh-ee?
Daniel shakes his head. “It’s the middle of the night.”
Oliver pouts and then he has another question. He points at the bundled sheets. “Acki-den?”
Daniel sighs. “No…yeah…just…it was a one off.”
Oliver pats his brother’s hand. “Tell Mummy. Mummy fix.”
No chance. The very idea of their mother finding out makes Daniel’s teeth ache with anxiety.
“I don’t need Mum, I’ve got this, okay?”
When Oliver looks unconvinced, Daniel says, “We can have a little story. Just get back to bed for me.”
Oliver beams and trots back to his room that is filled with all the trappings of early childhood; clothing and toys for an adult-sized toddler, there’s even a mobile with fuzzy animals that dangles and spins lazily over his bed.
Daniel groans, holds the sheets as if he wishes he could magically make them disappear, and then puts them down on the floor. Get Oliver back to sleep, make sure all is quiet, and then he can get to the laundry room in peace.
When Daniel enters Oliver’s room, he’s dismayed to find that his brother has turned on the main light. Really? As if Oliver needs it, with the night-lights dotted around the room.
“Too bright,” says Daniel, reaching for the wall switch, but not before Oliver spots Daniel’s state of undress.
Oliver points and whispers urgently, “Nakie!”
Daniel nods. “True. So, what’s the story about?” He points to the mobile. “Piggy? Froggy?”
“Mummy says,” begins Oliver importantly. “No nakies! Gotta weh…” He points to his padded crotch. “Undees!”
Daniel is aware of the rule. In winter, it’s easy for Mum to keep Oliver dressed in his fuzzy onesies, but in the summer months, Oliver would sleep naked if they let him. He would be naked most of the time, in fact. The thick training pants are a hard and fast rule.
“I’m not-“ Daniel begins.
“Undees!” screeches Oliver, pointing at Daniel. And in this moment, Daniel understands that his helpful brother is about to wake up their mother, who will find the urine-soaked sheets, who will wonder for herself what that means for her younger son.
No way.
“Stop,” whispers Daniel, ready to put a hand over Oliver’s mouth if he has to. “Not another word.” He goes to the underwear drawer and pulls it open. Surely, there’s something not too juvenile. In fact, every pair has some kind of decoration, every pair is thick and padded, because Oliver has his little ‘acki-dens’, because Oliver is a bubble brain. So, what pair does Daniel choose? The puppy dog ones, the digger ones, the cowboy ones?
Daniel shakes his head.
Not a chance.
He goes back to Oliver’s bed and sits down. “I’ll wear my own undies, thanks very much.”
Oliver opens his mouth to protest – loudly, no doubt – and Daniel puts a finger to his lips. “Hush, it’s story time.”
And there’s no need to reach for a book. He’s seen how his mother does it, by simply getting Oliver to look at the spinning animal mobile, makes up the simplest of stories, and encouraging the mentally-reduced man to look, to really focus on the fuzzy animals, until he seems almost hypnotized, and so when Mum tells Oliver how sleepy he looks, that he’s ready for fuzzy dreams, the man appears relieved to close his eyes.
Daniel points up at the mobile. “What do you see, Oliver?”
His brother does as he’s told. “Fuh-fro-gee,” he says. “Pig-ee.”
“Good boy,” sans Daniel, well past cringing at talking to his brother as if he’s a real toddler. And for a bitter, almost spiteful moment, he’s tempted to ask Oliver to spell the animals names. Hell, even for Oliver to count the animals. But that would be cruel. His infantile big brother struggles to count the fingers on one hand.
“Pig-gee happy,” says Oliver.
Daniel looks up. “Oh yeah? Well, I can see him smiling, I suppose you’re right.”
“Pig-gee smile,” Oliver agrees. He sighs, visibly relaxing, and then produces a big yawn.
Daniel suppresses a laugh. Amazing, how easily it is to put Oliver to sleep like this. But of course, Mum has been doing this every night like clockwork. Oliver has essentially been conditioned.
Daniel looks up at the ‘happy’ pig, and he produces a yawn of his own. They’re contagious, of course.
“Sweepy,” says Oliver, sighing again. “Sweepy boh.”
Daniel nods. He lies down beside his brother, there’s no harm in just lying there for a moment. He looks up at the mobile, the pig spinning lazily around above his head. The sleepy, happy pig.
He should continue with the story, ask Oliver about the other animals. But when he turns his head, he can see that Oliver already has his eyes shut, is already breathing heavily.
Record time! Daniel grins, and then he spends a few more seconds looking up at the mobile. It works like magic. He can’t wait to tell Mum how quickly he got Oliver to sleep. Of course, he won’t tell her why he was up himself; he won’t tell her about the accident.
Yes, in a few seconds he’ll get up, gently so the bed doesn’t creak, and take care of the wet sheets. And in the morning, Oliver will have forgotten all about the night-time adventure, and Daniel will tell his mother that he had a great night’s sleep, no bad dreams, and he will remind her that he graduates secondary school in just a few short months, and that he’d love to spend the summer back home in England, working and having just a little fun.
Yes, fun. Daniel continues to lie on the bed, looking up at the mobile, and he could almost laugh out loud, because sure enough, it’s easy to make up stories when he looks at the fuzzy animals. Maybe he can go the zoo in England! Lovely stories about the future, and about all the wonderful adventures he’s going to have.
* * *
He wakes up alone. Still naked, still in his brother’s bed. Sunshine peeks through the curtains.
He can hear Oliver and his mother, through in the kitchen.
Daniel’s stomach rumbles. Is it breakfast time?
Another, much bigger question; why is he naked, and why is he in his brother’s bedroom?
For a few, horrifying seconds, Daniel wonders if the worst has happened. A mental breakdown, just like Oliver, leaving him with the mind of a toddler.
He looks up at the mobile anxiously, testing his intelligence.
How many animals?
One, two, three, four, five.
And can he name them?
His tongue sticks out between his lips as he concentrates.
Piggy…froggy…brown bear…panda… He scowls at the last one. What kind of animal is that? And then his face brightens; of course! “Jaff,” he says softly, proudly.
He grins. He’s not a bubble brain! He can count big numbers and knows the names and everything!
His mind flooded with relief, Daniel jumps out of bed, and he almost runs through to say good morning to Oliver and his mother.
Almost.
He blushes. He’s nakie!
Imagine, just running through without any clothes on. What would his mother think?
Bubble brain?
Daniel cringes and hurries over to the closet to pick out the first underwear he sees.
He smiles. Puppy dog undies. As soon he’s wearing them, he knows that his mother will be pleased. Daniel doesn’t run around nakie like a silly baby; he knows the rules.
He goes into the hallway and has a moment of uncertainty. Didn’t he have a bad dream? Didn’t he wet the bed? But he sees the floor is clear, and when he goes back to his own room, the bed is neatly made, perfectly dry and clean.
Daniel nods. He doesn’t wet the bed; he’s a big boy.
He runs through to the kitchen. Oliver is already seated, trying to feed himself and making quite a mess in the process.
“There’s my sleepy boy,” says their mother. She looks delighted to see Daniel. “Look at you, in your special undies. Are you a puppy dog today?”
Daniel looks down at himself. Why does he suddenly feel so shy? Has he done something wrong?
“Look at Daniel, Oliver,” their mother says. And she’s going to say that Daniel is a bubble brain, that he’s just a silly baby.
No. Instead, she says, “What does the puppy say?”
Oliver is happy to answer this important question. “Woof-woof!” He waves his spoon in the air, spraying himself with milk and cereal.
“Clever boy,” gushes their mother, and then she gives Daniel a wink. “Isn’t Oliver clever,” she says to him.
“Uh-huh,” says Daniel, grinning with relief. It’s like a joke for the two of them.
When Mum opens her arms invitingly, Daniel is happy to run in for a hug.
“There’s my big boy,” says Mum. And then she whispers, “I wondered for a second, in those special undies. Are you a bubble brain like Oliver?
Daniel giggles. “No-oh!”
“That’s good,” says Mum. “One bubble brain is enough for this family. I need my special helper, don’t I, to help with Oliver.”
Daniel nods. He’s got a job, he’s important.
“Such a good boy. You love your mummy, don’t you.”
He nods and giggles. How relaxing, and happy he feels.
“You’re always going to be Mummy’s helper, aren’t you, sweetie.”
Daniel nods. Of course. He gazes into his mother’s smiling face. “I’m a helper, Mummy. I help all the time.”
“Yes, you do. And I was wondering…” Mum taps her chin thoughtfully.
“What?”
“Well, I was wondering if you’d sleep in your brother’s bed, just for a couple of nights. He keeps waking up, you see. Could you be a good brother, could you help him with his special stories?”
Daniel grins. How funny, Mummy doesn’t’ know that Daniel did that last night already! He nods enthusiastically. “Yes, Mummy.”
He earns another cuddle. Mum pats his bottom. “Such a good boy. Such a clever boy.”
And then they sit down to breakfast.
THE END
Zach lives in Ngatea with his mom and special brother, but he's been having nightmares of becoming like his brother - Dean
Comments
Dean
Also a second thought, with that rule they are the best dressed boys in Ngatea
Dean
Loved it, something is sus about that mobil
