"She what?" I asked, not quite able to believe what I was hearing.
"Sarah wet herself," Madison repeated. "First period yesterday. You didn't know?"
"She didn't say anything, but Mum seemed really mad with her in the evening. I guess... But how did that happen?"
"That's not been her problem?" This time, Madison seemed almost as confused as I was. "I assumed she was like me, she tried to go without protection because she didn't want people to see them in her bag, or something."
"No, it's... Okay, I can probably tell you she's had this virus that's been on the news. We think I did too, but I was lucky enough to escape the worst symptoms. But that's only when you're asleep isn't it? I didn't know it had happened in the day. That's like, is there anything that causes that?"
"Damage to some ligaments. The muscles too, I guess. But there'd have to be an injury there. I hadn't thought about this virus. But hell... I don't want her to suffer like I did. That's why after it happened, I've been looking up all different things that can cause it. Looking for an excuse she can use to say it was a one off. The bullies won't let it go, but then she could get some sympathy. I don't want her to be treated like... well, like I was."
I nodded when I heard that, but wondered if she'd thought so much about her own thoughts. She said that she wanted to help Sarah, and maybe she did. But at the same time, I had to wonder if in some way this was her attempt to cure herself. From everything she'd told me, Madison had regained control of her bladder a long time ago, but it still weighed on her mind that it had taken her so long. Maybe being able to find the answers for somebody else in the same position was a kind of substitute for the answers she hadn't found for herself a couple of years ago.
"Well, she's already got this book," I mumbled. "If she remembers to follow the instructions, it might help her get back to normal sooner. It's really hard to read, though."
"I think I know the one," she laughed. "It's amazing they can make so much money publishing a book where you have to go back and read every page a dozen times just to get what it's saying. But at the support group, I think everybody was on the same book. I mean, I guess there aren't that many girls our age who have that problem, so not many people want to write about it. But still..."
"Yeah," I said. "But there's another one too, you know? I saw it in Mum's room when she was talking to me this morning. Maybe... I think it's something like the one that Sarah's trying to read through is all optimistic, so reading it is like filled with affirmations. And the other one is for parents, and that one's more realistic. Like maybe it tells you how to work out how long this will take, and Mum doesn't want Sarah to look at it because she knows it will depress her if the book says it'll take her months to get better." I thought about Mum, sliding the book out of sight behind some stuff on her dresser when she saw me looking at it. There had to be some reason for the secrecy, right? If Sarah wasn't ready to face the truth about her own problem, maybe she thought the same would apply to me.
"Well, maybe that'll help. I mean, if we can take a look at that, it might give us a starting point. Some advice we can give her. I mean... I think your mum thinks Sarah's still a little kid, but she's pretty... You know, pretty mature. She might do better if she knew the whole truth."
"I'll take a look," I said. But I knew that Mum wouldn't want to talk to Sarah. This whole situation had given her an excuse to treat Sarah like a baby again, and I could see that she wouldn't want to give that up. Even silly little things like all those different wipes, and not telling Sarah which ones she was using. It was just a token gesture so Mum would feel like she was in charge, making all the choices for her baby. Like she hadn't been able to do when we were little because she was working a couple of jobs to make ends meet.
"You thought of something else?" Madison said. I guessed I didn't have such a good poker face.
"Not really. Just how much Mum is enjoying this. I don't think she would actually hide anything from Sarah if it would make a difference. But like, I think she wants to pretend Sarah's a baby again. Like she's bought these generic cleaning wipes for healthy skin. But when Sarah's not looking, she's got a separate pack that say 'Baby' on the front in big letters." I paused, and thought back to that morning, when Mum had swapped the pack of wipes in her dressing gown pocket for a different one. Like she thought I'd laugh and tease my sister if I knew she was using wipes that actually said 'baby' on, or that I might tell Sarah. Of course, that had made me curious enough to look at the pack in her dressing gown pocket just as soon as she'd left the room.
"Or 'Babÿ' with two dots over the 'y'," I continued, thinking back to the picture in my mind. "I'm not sure how you pronounce that, I've not started studying German yet. Babÿ Star Wipes. Like... she really wants to imagine that Sarah's a baby. I wonder if she might be like... putting off telling Sarah something that might help. She wouldn't really want her to be upset, but I wonder if she wants a baby deep down, so she'll put off suggesting things that might help for a day or two. It's just how much she loves her."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Madison said with a shrug. "I mean, I'm sure I wouldn't have gotten back to normal so easy if Mummy hadn't babied me a little bit. And... it's pronounced 'babe-eeesh' I think. It's not German, but Mum got me some of those ones. They got a really catchy jingle."
"I don't think I heard it," I said with a shrug, and thought about how I hadn't had any wipes at all because I didn't need them. I knew even as it crossed my mind that it was the stupidest thing ever to be jealous of, but maybe that just went to show how good my life was. "Anyway, I don't want to put any more pressure on Mum. But I'll have a look at that book. If there's anything in there that could help her get back to normal quicker, I can tell Sarah. Or even give her a clue how long it might take her. I think she'd take it pretty well, she's not as fragile as Mum thinks."
"Good luck," Madison said with a smile. "And if she wants a friend who won't judge her, let her know I'm... Oh, looks like your ride is here."
I looked up to see that Jessie's Mum's car had just arrived, and ran over to join her. She'd give me a lift home today, and then Mum would collect both of us tomorrow. Jessie's Mum was almost family anyway; she'd been our babysitter when we were small, and had taken care of me after school almost more than Mum had in my first year.
"Have a good day at school, girls?" she asked, and got a couple of cheerful agreements before continuing: "Your mum's working late again, Alice. She asked if I can fix dinner for you. Is there anything you need to pick up at your house first?"
"I... uhh..." I mumbled, and tried to think on the spot. That was exactly the opportunity I needed. "I wanted to read over some of the stuff we learned today. Like... the poem we did in lit, I think it would hit so different if you're reading it slowly in a quiet house, with the little click of the central heating in the background, kind of thing. Can I put my bag down and try reading, then come over to yours after that?"
"You really enjoy your school work, don't you?" she said as Jessie laughed just a little at my enthusiasm. "Always so mature. Okay, you got a half hour before we send out a search party, so don't get up to any mischief."
"Can I do it too?" Jessie asked, her amusement turning into enthusiasm as soon as her mum praised me. "That sounds cool!"
"I don't think you can feel the atmosphere of an empty house when your friend is there," her mum laughed. "You can try it later if you want."
They talked about it a little longer. Jessie didn't understand my excuse, but her mum got it perfectly, which was all I needed. She let me out of the car at home, so that I could read myself a poem in an atmosphere like the one it described. And I did that, even if it felt a bit silly. It sounded like such a good idea when I said it that I thought I probably should. And maybe it helped me understand Mr Harper's lesson a bit better. But then I took my shoes off quick and ran up to my room. I changed out of my school clothes into something less smart and more comfy. And then I listened for a few seconds, to hear the empty house creaking.
"Sarah?" I called. But she wasn't home. She would be out with her friends; Bella and Sylvie, and a whole bunch of people she didn't really like. And then, sure that I was alone, I went into Mum's room again. I didn't have an excuse to be in there often, and it still felt strange. But this time I was here for a reason, and I was sure Mum would never know.
She'd moved the book. But I knew the colours on the cover, and I could find it on her bookshelf, wedged between two picture books that she had read to me when I was younger. I resisted the urge to think about why she would have those still, or what kind of memories they held, and pulled out the book I had seen that morning.
Training Your Teenager.
The cover showed a cartoon picture of a baby in a high chair, but the drawing had enough curves that I could tell she was supposed to be about Sarah's age. The kind of figure that most girls would kill for, but dressed up in a romper suit with 'Mommy's Girl' on the front, and clearly in diapers. The subtitle on the cover was "101 tips for encouraging your Little One to act her age". I could tell from the colours and the art style that it was part of a set with the one that Sarah had, Potty Training for Teens. But the art stood out even more on this one. Was this just for kids with a bedwetting problem, or for kids who had trouble with other grown-up stuff too? I wondered if there might actually be a few different "for Teens" books, to help with different developmental problems; but it still seemed pretty weird.
I spread it out on the dresser. I would probably have been more comfortable taking it back to my own room to read, but I wasn't sure how long I would have before Jessie's mum came to look for me; or before Sarah came home. If I heard keys in the front door, there would be time to put the book back on the shelf and leave the room. There might not be time to run back here from my room and still not get caught where I wasn't supposed to be.
I started reading, but it didn't make that much sense to me. The intro talked about how this book was designed to help your Little One to act her age. But then it used the words Teenager, Trainee, and Child as well. I got the feeling that the terms were deliberately chosen, like they meant different things, but there was no explanation of how the words were used. It talked about Objectives as well, with a capital letter, and said that it was important to choose some before starting the book. Would the objective be just to stop Sarah wetting the bed? That seemed like something that would be dictated by the problem, not something to choose. About two thirds of the way down the first page, I found a line saying that a teen with a bedwetting problem could easily start training, and even reach any goal within a year. That made perfect sense. But then it was qualified by saying that a teenager who didn't have problems staying dry could still be helped by LVX2, whatever that was, and that the book would be able to help her even more.
I started trying to look up words in the index, but every page I tried said things that didn't make any sense to me. It was like Teenager didn't just mean a girl in her teens, and Training wasn't about keeping the bed dry all night. There was some extra level of meaning there, that they book just assumed you would know.
By that point, I realised that it had already been half an hour. I should get going, anyway. This clearly wasn't teaching me anything, because it felt like I would need some kind of insight into how this technique worked before I could even start. I needed a dictionary to translate what it meant.
While I stood there indecisively, I heard the sound of the key in the door. Sarah was home. I quickly rammed the book back onto the shelf, as I heard her struggling with the wobbly lock again. At least that confirmed that it wasn't Mum home early again; it was only Sarah who had to jiggle her key around that much, after she'd managed to bend it ever so slightly by dropping something on it.
I should have gone right away. But while I was in there, something else came to my mind. Those wipes; and how much I wanted to know how it felt to be changed like a baby. Even if it was just wiping my butt down with a wet wipe before I put my diaper on tonight.
I lifted the pack of wipes out of the pocket of Mum's dressing gown, hanging behind her bedroom door. Unlike the ones in Sarah's drawer, this packet was open. And there was no way she would notice if I grabbed a handful and hid them in my school bag, ready to use later. These ones were extra childish, printed with a pattern of rockets and stars that looked like a watermark on the wipes themselves. And they smelled sweet, faintly reminding me of ice cream.
"Babÿ Star Wipes," I read the label with a little smile, trying to pronounce the name like Madison had said. And then the marketing promise printed across the whole width of the packet in a long curve: "Now with STX* to reduce diaper rash by up to 90%**". But it was the text on the other side that caught my eye as I slipped the pack back into Mum's pocket. It was a solid white box with the word WARNING at the top in block capitals. And then beneath that, an explanation "contains lysentripase: not suitable for use on teen girls" which raised way more questions than it answered.
As I rushed back to my own room, I had a hundred questions running across my mind. Was this some experimental treatment that wasn't approved yet, or something? Was that why Mum was still telling Sarah that she might get better, even though the news reports all agreed that bedwetting from the virus would have been gone in a couple of weeks unless it had caused permanent damage? Could it be that the hope Mum was giving her wasn't false after all?
I felt bad for taking the wipes, then. If they were some kind of medicine, I was sure they had to be more expensive than the regular ones. I shouldn't waste them for my own curiosity. But it wasn't like I could put them back now. I'd just have to wait and see. But I felt bad for Mum, not being able to tell Sarah about this experiment. I could understand that she didn't want to get her hopes up in case she had to let her down again, but it must have been so hard saying nothing. I'd have to do some more research, see if I could find out more about it, and then at least Mum would be able to talk to me about her hopes and her worries.
I loaded the coffee machine as I went out again, and set it on a timer so that it would be ready when Mum came in. Right now, that was all I could do to help.