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Claire's Place Synopsis: "Claire's Place!" The sign read across the top. Below it read: "Home cooking, and honey, if you leave here hungry, it's your fault." A cute sign on the side of a road hardly used since the new freeway. A perfect sort of road for a slow trip on a bicycle, and a perfect place to stop if you're hungry and Carl stopped. Starting off again, however, was going to be a lot harder. Players: Claire and Carla Simms; Sheriff Emmit Baker; Susan Day; Old Doc Sumter; Jack Casey, Mark Burns and Rodney Evans truck drivers; Old man Ben Brent. The layoffs, along with the sudden closer, when it came, shook everyone. No hints at all till the Securities and Exchanged people, along with four federal marshals, walked in to cuff and escort Mr. Brett out. Mrs. Brett, as generous as she always was, paid everyone that following day, shook their hands and shared a few tears over what had happened. Carl, along with everyone else, was suddenly out of a job. Unlike most of those now without jobs, Carl shook his depression off in short order. Actually he wasn't depressed at all. He'd wanted to go back to school and finish, and his chance had come. Besides, he was too young to see his professional world end this soon, and there was a whole bunch of that real world yet to be seen. Fortunately Carl was also frugal enough to have saved, and if he was careful his next real paycheck could be at least two years away. He had more than enough money, and thanks now to a crooked boss, all the time in the world to see some of his world, but at a much slower pace. It took him a week to take care of the links he had to worry about, kiss his aunt, and buy a decent bike to carry him, slowly, enjoyably, to wherever he wanted to go. He also carried dried food, water, two changes of clothes, a small amount of cash, and an ATM card when he rode off happily with the wind at his back. He would use Mail-R-Us for important stuff, and Greyhound to carry his extra two bags holding the rest of his things. It was his first real trip anywhere since graduating high school. Carl had worked his trip out as three months east, curving eorth, then continue in a wide circle that would turn him south. South and back home again after another three months. Six months to stop and literally smell the roses before winter covered them. Six months and that first day was almost literally filled with those flowers he kept stopping to smell. He'd kept an easy pace, pedaling steadily for two hours at a stretch before resting. He chose his stops for beauties sake, and started again only when he'd taken it all in. He was fit, free and alive, and that was as good as it gets. Carl could have easily made fifty miles a day without too much effort so he smiled over the twenty when twilight settled over him that second night. There had simply been too many reasons to stop, and he enjoyed every one of them. More so over the last stop he'd chosen for that evening. It was a nice place to watch a sunset he mused. He slept free, under the stars, and soundly. He rose, without an alarm clock, to a breathless sunrise, completely renewed. A little stiff, but his warm ups, a nice downhill descent and a slow first couple of miles would take care of that. He was back on the road an hour later. He was also hungry that morning as he stretched his legs before an easy coast back down the small mountain. Ravenous was more like it, and a good enough reason to decide on that restaurant instead of the dried eggs he carried. It was also that sign he'd passed going up the mountain, "Claire's Place: Home cooking and honey, if you leave here hungry, it's your fault." He'd seen that sign as he passed through yesterday towards the small mountain he wanted to sleep on. He saw that sign again when the road flattened, and immediately his stomach growled. He eased his bike onto the gravel parking area and stopped. It was a town of sorts. A half dozen buildings, none of which were new. Buildings that rose out of necessity with the lumber industry. They fell into disrepair just as fast when the trees were gone. All of them except for Claire's place. Claire's place was old, but clearly cared for. Tourists, or those few like Carl, and some locals were its life blood now. Carl was more than happy to leave a little something with Claire, whoever Claire was, for a country style breakfast. Carl entered and was immediately greeted to the aroma of fried bacon, hash browns and fresh brewed coffee. Morning smells that make you hungry even if you're not. People who eat here, he mused, didn't watch their cholesterol or those calories and neither would he. It was the kind of place that would give a doctor goose bumps knowing what food like this did to people. At least a doctor might pause because everything came off a large flat grill separated only by a constantly moving spatula. Although, as Claire often said, "if you want something healthier, go graze with the cows!" It was the kind of place that instantly made you glad you were hungry. The smells alone made you decide, without a moments hesitating, to ignore that doctor's warnings about your cholesterol level and any other risk. Besides, Carl was beyond hungry as he moved to a stool that was most likely older than he was. If butts could talk, he thought with a smile, as he sat. This clearly was the fifties version of fast food before fast food went corporate. Carl imagined a row of mid to late 1940 and 1950 sedans sitting out front. People drinking pop from glass bottles while an attendant in uniform, just next door at the old gas station, actually washed your windshield while pumping gas. People here had time to talk. People here knew people here! It was a meeting place because people had to sit and linger for their meal. There was a row of tables, covered in vinyl checks, sitting against clean windows. All lined neatly across from a counter and those row of stools Carl could chose from. Coffee, he decided first, as he picked out his seat. Carl also knew who Claire was or decided who she might be, as she moved in front of him and automatically poured his cup full. She smiled, said good morning, slid the silvery stainless steel creamer in front of him and turned away. Claire had to be this large matronly woman that most likely smiled just over waking up. It was also clear that she would cuff you painfully, and in an instant, if you sassed her. She was back at the grill as Carl waited for a menu. Her spatula scooping large servings of scrambled eggs and diced ham on a plate already overflowing with hash browns. Carl smiled at the woman who was most likely the center of what was left of the town. She was that sort of woman who would not hesitate to ask for that money you owed her, but in another instant, give you the shirt off her back if you needed it. A shirt, if it was her's, he noted, that would most likely fall below his knees. Carl had now joined a handful of people clinking forks and spoons against thick porcelain dishes. Dishes with a chip here and there, that matched heavy coffee mugs with their own chips and even thicker than the dishes. Carl was also the center of attention when he entered. Each person taking a moment to measure, size up, and go back to eating after their curiosity was satisfied. Carl was now, after that ritual of sorts, officially part of the scene. He was also now part of an eclectic, but classic, mix of middle America. An old man, sitting at the back, and most likely coming there since the restaurant was new. A woman with two kids fussing over the egg yoke on her son's shirt put on fresh that very morning. A couple obviously driving through and angry that there was no golden arches to eat under, and the local sheriff still watching him with a cop's eyes. A cop, Carl noted fighting against a smile. Carl smiled because that cop had long ago given up chasing bad guys on foot, and Carl grinned anew noting the size of his breakfast. Carl would be no threat, he thought, as the cop went back to his breakfast and newspaper. Carl was no threat because bank robbers don't often ride off on bicycles or wear spandex riding shorts and purple nylon tee shirts. "The menu is in front of you honey! If you're waiting for me to hand you one, you'll end up older than Ben over there before you get to eat!" The large woman said smiling and wiping her hands on an apron that was most likely pretty twenty years ago. Carl had chosen the stool by the register and picked up the menu. A register, he also noted, that didn't need electricity as he took the plastic covered card she'd mentioned. There were three truck drivers to his left as he read the hand written list under the word 'Breakfast: Served all day, or until I get tired of beating eggs, which ever comes first.' Carl noted the truck drivers again. Truck drivers didn't favor spandex on guys, nor shimmery nylon shirts as a rule. Truck drivers didn't favor any of what Carl was wearing and most likely the people that wear that stuff. Carl knew those looks. Their looks or rather that look on the two still looking suggested as much. Long hair and tight pants also suggesting something else to them. To them, anyone that didn't have a gut hanging over or covering their belt, wasn't one of them, and if you wasn't one of them then you was most likely one of those. Carl knew the type because he'd grown up around that type. Carl had always been a target for the guys who acted tough, but only proved it on those as small as Carl. A few, those that tried doing so, discovered that small wasn't always easy pickings and Carl had his mother to thank for that. Martial arts was an art, and he rarely had to exercise those skills more than once or twice or to the extreme. After a time most of the bullies found easier marks and stopped bothering with him at all. Carl had also learned other techniques as well. It's what made Carl, as he so often did with people like this, let his wrist fall loose in those seconds. A gesture he made before using a single finger to set a stand of long hair back behind his ear. A gesture made before he looked back at those guys. He nodded that nod you use for strangers when a nod is called for, but only for lines at registers, elevators and places like this. His obvious contact with them instantly broke off their contact with him. Set and match Carl mused. They went back to their breakfast and whatever topic was still active before Carl walked in. Carl looked back at his menu. Those rules, those rules unwritten, were hard and fast for men like that. Once you've made contact with them they can't keep looking. That was a rule. If they do keep looking, or nod back, or make it known they've done so, no matter how slight, they've lost. That acknowledgement, by default, left them vulnerable to the same judgments from their own peers. Too risky for men like that to keep looking past a certain point, and Carl knew that as well. It's tough being macho around other men struggling also to be macho. Carl had long ago given up that macho quest and most of those rules. He had to. He was five four, slight of build and wore his hair long. Long only because at first, he was just too lazy to cut it. After a time because he didn't want to and simply for the contradiction it posed. Carl liked looking less like a boy and more like a girl. He first heard the word sissy at seven and it had been with him ever since. A geek back then as well, and a geek now. Only difference now was that he was smart enough to be a geek and effeminate enough to be a sissy without caring about either word. Carl also knew that if he wore a sports bra under that shimmering shirt, and something more feminine than a rubber band to hold his hair back those men would have smiled back less confused. Carl's features were just this side of male. He could, with very little effort, make himself appear as either and he liked that as well. They would have thought him a girl had he worn a hair band, and the rules would have changed because of it. Such is the nature of nature, Carl mused, as he reached the bottom of the menu to that last line that read: 'No doggy bags! Unless you're a dog and willing to bark! So don't ask!' He ordered the number four which was a touch of everything which took extra plates for his pancakes and another for his bacon. It all tasted as good as it smelled which was a couple of dozen bites just past satisfying the hunger. It was so typical of that type of place. Claire hardly more than a mother cooking for an extended family, he thought, as he filled. A mother that defined her love by volume, he also thought, as he reached a third of what was on his plates while his stomach swelled. Claire smiled at first but to herself. She'd already guessed how much that boy would eat, and smiled again when she saw that she was right. She also smiled over her mistake when he'd walked in. Could have been a girl, she thought, and thought he was at first glance. Most likely wanted to be, she also thought, noting his nails. Too long, those nails, Claire noted. Too long and too pretty for a boy's, and clearly formed with a file. Boys, most boys, wouldn't notice such things, they were actually not that long, and men wouldn't have a clue unless color was added, but Claire noticed. Claire noticed and looked again. Claire was one of those people that, when she looked, she looked hard. Looking hard at people added information and lots of amusement in a seemingly routine life. It was one of the things Claire liked about running the restaurant her mother and dad built... besides cooking that is. Defining people, from those brief glances, as this type of person or that was an art and you become an artist by practicing. So Claire studied details. Details most people ignored, but shouldn't because it helped sum an opinion that, after this long, was most often on the mark. It's also why she suddenly frowned in that same span of time watching him. She noticed the blotchy redness forming. It wasn't there when the boy sat. It wasn't there when he started eating and now it was. Couldn't ignore it against his nearly pure white skin. Couldn't ignore what it was either. "Been up on Bare Ridge?" Claire asked casually as she filled Carl's cup. He didn't need a refill yet, but Claire needed a closer view. She got it and Carl didn't have to answer then. He had been on Bare Ridge. "Not sure? I was up on that flat rock overlooking the valley floor." Carl said. "That's Bare Ridge!" Claire said wiping the counter not so much to clean it but to continue that closer look at that redness. Bare Ridge wasn't a misspelling, because that ridge lost its trees forty years ago and none ever came back. Claire already knew the answer before he spoke. That redness was from the fungus that grew up on that one lone shady spot where the rocks went flat. It edged the rocks and trailed back to a small cave. It had eased out of that cave, taking hold after the lumber company cleared the mountain top of the growth that once held it back. A biologist identified that fungus in that first year after the lumber camp was built. That biologist had been called in after forty two men took ill so fast they blamed the food at first. When it wasn't the food they blamed the water, and after that even the chewing tobacco they all used. Nothing explained what brought those men down till all their steps traced back to that ridge and that odd yellowish line of fungus. It was only serious between spring and early summer, and rarely fatal unless you already had problems of one kind or another. It also didn't grow anywhere else but there until a few years later. There and some other remote set of caves further up north. Most likely that was where it also originated. Carl, Claire thought, hadn't seen the old weathered and worn warning sign when he made camp. Carl nodded yes, to her statement, as he handed Claire a ten dollar bill for his meal, adding that it was pretty up there. Carl said it feeling slightly woozy and sat back down again as Claire started to hand him his change. She never did. Carl felt odd suddenly and remained sitting to catch his balance. Claire watched intently. Claire wasn't a doctor but she'd been there when the first epidemic hit and again when a crew of government workers came back after a survey trip. Basically it was a fungal toxin that got to you. A toxin that took several paths in the body within hours of contact. The rash appeared right after phase one which was the latent asymptomatic period before the onset of that gastro-intestinal phase. What Claire was seeing at this moment was the onset of symptoms not too unlike hypoglycemia. Too much blood sugar causing an increase level of insulin which would drive this boy's blood sugar suddenly way too low and way too fast. Claire knew he was in trouble when she watched his eyes began to lose their focus. Carl's eyes were indeed beginning to glaze a bit, and his skin was moistening as he'd asked for the bathroom. He assumed he'd eaten too much along with the grease that went with it. Claire kept the change he hadn't taken, or even noticed and frowned noticeably. "Damn!" Claire mused to herself. Claire frowned and moved her hand to just under the register to press an old door bell button and a moment later, her sister Carla appeared. "What's up?" Carla asked. Claire nodded casually towards Carl as a question came over her sister's face before Claire explained why in a low tone. "That boy there! He's got Bare Ridge Rash," Claire said and added, "he's going to need a bed pretty quick here!" Her sister looked at Carl as well, and in an instant nothing else was needed to be said. "I'll go set up the guest room. You sure that's a boy?" "Well, I didn't pull his shorts open or anything like that, but yes, that's a boy! Go on and get the bed ready." Claire said. Claire also eased over to the sheriff, freshened his coffee after a couple of more beforehand, telling him the same thing in the same low tone. The Sheriff looked at the boy, nodded, wiped his lips and left immediately. He'd pay for breakfast later and have his pie with lunch he decided. "Most likely has a bike outside. I'll fetch it for her or him or whatever." The Sheriff also said in a low tone. Claire didn't correct the sheriff when he made his remark. Advertising this sort of thing wasn't good for business and people around there knew that. Sheriff Emmit also knew that the boy wasn't going anywhere soon. He'd keep the boy's bike at the jail house till he recovered, or push it out back to Claire's small garage. He already knew the boy wasn't going to care much one way or another. Claire eased back to the counter and told Carl that the bathroom was in back. Carl looked up slightly confused over why she said that, but rose anyway. He rose unsteadily with Claire behind him when he walked down the hall. Claire simply guided him past the bathroom doors right and left of them towards the door to the house in back. Carl never noticed that he'd walked past the old baked enamel white signs with Ladies and Gentlemen in black letters. "Bare Ridge Rash as sure as I am that I'm me!" Claire said to her sister as she guided the young man already starting to wobble. Her sister nodded. Bare Ridge Rash is a lot like the flu at its worse. Only it comes on faster. Three to six hours it sets itself and all of this without too much warning till it hits. That rash the only hint at what it was. Takes six hours, at most, after a few seconds of exposure for the fungus spores to go from the lungs to everywhere else your blood goes. Only minutes actually, but in six hours it's planted itself in place and already working. Your body starts fighting a losing battle right after it identifies those spores as alien. The rash came within a couple of hours after that incubation period. It had been eight hours or thereabouts as near as Claire could figure. This based on Carl's condition and responses as she talked to the boy. He was nearly out of it as she guided him to the guest room. He was going to be out of it for a while Claire decided as she eased him to the bed without so much as a protest. The Sheriff appeared then though the same door to the house asking, as the floors squeaked under him, "Bare Ridge Rash?" "Bare Ridge as sure as I'm standing here! Damn it Emmit, I thought we had that access road chained? This boy says he was camping up there on the flats which means right on top of that fungus!" Claire said in anger. "It is... was? I mean most times!" The sheriff said in defense of her accusation. He was picking at a piece of bacon that had set between his teeth before he added, "another survey team for the Department of Forestry was up there yesterday and most likely left the damn chain down. I'll check on that later." "Well, too late for that now isn't it? Anyway, you go get the Doc because in about another hour or so, this boys going to wish he had a will and not too long after that a reason for executing it." Claire said from the doorway of the guest room that Carl now occupied. Sheriff Emmit nodded still picking at his teeth as he turned to leave. Carl heard the voices as you might those in a dream in your sleep. He also felt very odd just before that walk down the hall, not sure what was wrong with him. It was his legs he noticed first. Legs feeling as strong as they ever did, just a short time before then, suddenly felt like rubber. Carl's back was hurting as well. He felt flush and warm, then suddenly he was cold and damp. Flu he thought, and wondered what he'd do if it was. If it was the flu he'd had no hint of it either. That was odd as well he decided then thought about his stomach that was rolling over what he'd eaten. He had asked where the bathroom was, or thought he had and got up to walk to it. He remembered that part or thought he did. That woman Claire was behind him, and he knew that as well. Carl had also felt her tug on his arm to a door down the hall. He was in someone's house, and not clear how he'd gotten there. Seemed only a moment before when he'd been in a restaurant. He was getting confused. Claire was feeling sorry for what that boy was about to go through. She had Tim the dishwasher who once in his youth, had cut trees, take over on her way to the back. The place would slow down from now till lunch anyway and Tim could fry an egg almost as well as she could. Her sister would help as well. For now Claire decided to worry over the boy and not breakfast. She looked at the boy deciding to try and explain what was happening to him, but she was sure he didn't understand most of it, as she helped him out of his clothes. Dreams often start this way Carl thought as the edge of his vision blurred. He wanted to ask the woman her name as she undressed him. Should at least be introduced Carl thought as his pants came off. He thought that without caring much over what she was doing. Carla, Claire's sister, came in with two blankets. "I'm boiling water." Carla said taking the other side of Carl to ease him down flat on the sheets. Either of them could have easily carried the boy, and with both there was no effort at all as they got him to lie down. There were a lot of lumber jacks back in those days that could tell you how strong them two girls were. Some with crowns on their teeth now and a couple with partials as a matter of record. You dated them girls on their terms or you did an ice pack later. If you were too forward it was a visit to the dentist or doctor that following day. "Get on the phone to Susan, and see if we can borrow a few things. Going to get messy otherwise!" Claire said as she worked Carl's shirt off. Claire tried taking his shirt off when he was sitting up but he was like a cloth doll and she quit after a bit of time passed. His pants also took a bit longer and Claire cursed spandex and her memories of an old open bottom girdle she once wore when things like that mattered. Carla had left, and returned bringing with her a bowl of hot water. In no time Claire was sponging him with fresh warm water hinting of lemon and still doing so when Susan's car crunched on the gravel out back. Susan came in without knocking, bags in hand. "So, is it the rash?" Susan asked coming into the bedroom. She knew the instant she saw the red splotches what it was before walking out with Claire and Carla. There was no need for an answer and, again, none was given. All three women were long time residents and only few words went past that diagnosis, or what to do about it as they joined up in the kitchen. Susan had brought two bags with her, and was emptying both. Carla began chopping up three different plants from old glass jars out of a large walk-in pantry. Herbs, Carla knew, would help, but not cure, what the boy had and would suffer from. Another car crunched on Claire's gravel driveway as the women went on with their chores. Old Doc Sumter walked in as easily and informally as Susan had. The Doc paused by Carla and nodded approvingly smelling over the tea Carla was brewing as he said, "smells about right! Where's the boy?" "In the guest room!" Carla said not taking her eyes from the pot. The medicines she was brewing came about in seconds after the water began to boil. Too little time or too much time and it wasn't medicine. "Hey Doc!" Susan and Carla said together as they went about their work at the table. Doc went into the bedroom, bent slightly and saw the rash on his neck, collar and down Carl's right side. His hand went to Carl's forehead as he nodded knowingly. Doc also knew that the best he could do was confirm what Claire already knew and give him a 'B' complex in the thigh before the diaper covered it. He was working out of his bag to do just that a moment later. A swab on the right hip at the fleshy part, and that shot a second later. Another followed before a second swab and that was that. He put the hypodermic needles into a bio hazard bag, closed his own bag, and smiled down at the boy now off where people go that are shutting down for a time. The Doc walked back in the kitchen. His thoughts on a piece of Claire's fresh baked pies on his mind as he said, "I'm done! Gave him a little 'B' and an antibiotic." "Anything else I got to worry about?" Claire asked. "Doesn't look like it! He's healthy enough so he should weather this storm fairly well." Doc said as he added that he'd stop back in a couple days from now unless that boy's fever went past 103. Some did, and spiked higher at times, and that was the only thing to worry about besides getting liquids into him. Claire already knew that part of it, and doc knew that as well looking at the old porcelain bowl now getting filled with chipped ice. Susan did her thing as well after grabbing some of the things off of the kitchen table. She was a nurse down at county three days a week. She refolded the diapers before gathering one of the pair of plastic pants she also used on her daughter. An old plastic soap container she used for travel held the diaper pins. Baby powder and oil followed from the bag. Susan hovered over the naked young man as she sat things nearby. There was a practiced set of moves she executed flawlessly after fifteen years of doing the same thing five or six times a day every day since her daughter's accident. Susan had moved to the bedroom as Claire followed with the ice right after the doctor came back into the kitchen. Susan sat the diaper and baby pants down, rolled Carl away from her laying the diaper down under him before rolling him towards her for the other side. A moment after that his legs were spread. Oddly enough that diaper was almost too big for Carl and Claire smiled. Two pink tipped diaper pins fixed the thick cotton between his legs and at his waist before Claire gathered the baby pants in her hands. Those panties were at Carl's thighs when Claire lifted him by his feet. "Hope he like's pink!" Claire said as Susan guided those pink panties over his diaper before Claire eased his legs back down. "It's going to be a couple of days before he even knows he's supposed to be wearing anything let alone wearing a diaper!" Susan said as she eased the elastic of his baby pants around the diaper so it wouldn't wick. Claire nodded as she pulled a wash cloth from the chipped ice and wiped Carl's chest, neck and face. Susan, simply because she liked the smell of baby powder added more to his chest before she finished. The cotton gown, Susan readied after the plastic pants was set in place and when she finished powdering him. It was a pretty gown and designed for someone on their backs a lot. Designed for her daughter obviously but that too wasn't going to be an issue with Carl. Susan had Carl in that gown and finished with that same look the doc had given him. She too returned to the kitchen with Claire when she was done. "I'm leaving you twelve diapers, four pair of plastic pants and two gowns, besides the one he's wearing. I'll get some more diapers pulled together after I give Julie her lunch. Haven't done the laundry in a couple of days!" Susan said when they joined up in the kitchen. Carla, at the sink, was filling the glass baby's bottle with the tea she'd strained and walked off towards the bedroom without commenting on what Susan said. It might seem odd treating a man like a baby but for these three women it was the path of least effort. Sheriff Roberts stood at the kitchen door, with a piece of apple pie on a napkin, when Claire looked up from the table of baby things. He said, "I put his or her bike in my car. I'll take it to the station if you want, and keep it till whenever. So he going to live?" "He's going to live, but for a time he's going to wish he hadn't." Claire said as she gathered the stack of diapers and plastic pants to carry into the room. They would go on a card table in a few minutes, and did, as Carl nursed the warm tea Carla was feeding him. Carl wouldn't have taken it awake. Not because of the pink bottle cap or because it was a baby's bottle but because it was a nasty sort of concoction. One of the plants Carla used would help keep most of what the boy took down, down. That was the good news. The bad news was it would come out, for a time, almost as fast as it went in. As it happens that happened within minutes of when Carl finished his first bottle. "He had just finished breakfast!" Claire said fetching another diaper as she pulled a couple of baby wipes from a container. Carla wasn't as good at diapering as Susan was but Carla was far bigger so it was much easier. They ended up using four diapers and two pair of plastic pants before lunch time and Carla was giving Carl his forth bottle when Susan returned that afternoon. Carl's dirty diapers and baby pants were already tumbling in the washer along with towels, wash clothes and his first gown. It was nearly two when Susan's car arrived once again. "Brought the larger diapers and soakers for night! You can use those over the others till things ease a bit. These plastic panties will fit over both. I'm washing the plain ones that snap on if you want to use them. I'll bring those by later. Thought you might need them. He's not going to mind the color!" Susan said as she unloaded another bag. Carla thanked Susan before she left. Claire was back in the restaurant having left her sister, Carla, to their visitor so she could start working for the dinner crowd. Tim can boil water Ok she often said, but he didn't know dip about battering or frying chicken. Carl's dreams, meanwhile, were wonderful. He was a baby in the one he was dreaming at the moment. A little baby and his mother or maybe his aunt was with him. He wasn't sure actually who the woman was but he loved her. He thought it might be his mother or aunt, because he wasn't sure who else might be taking care of him. He wanted to giggle a little, but was nursing a bottle. He didn't care for the cold wash cloth, but liked the baby oil and powder and really liked his diapers. Being a baby was great, he thought, and he wondered if babies knew that as easily as he did. Then he decided they must because he did and he was, after all, a baby. He didn't like that stuff in the baby bottle though. At first his tongue pushed at the nipple of that baby's bottle. It was nasty whatever it was, but, try as he might, he couldn't push the nipple out or away. He tried again later and wasn't any more successful then. He thought about using his hands to push it away but his hands were not listening to him. It wasn't something he was use to feeling in his mouth, but the lightly honeyed water in the next bottle took care of that and he nursed. He was fond of that honey flavored tea, but that was only four of his ten bottles he was getting a day. Tea, honey water and tea again before a little juice. Lots of liquids was the rule for this rash. The rest of those bottles he took were juice, sweetened. Sometimes just water with a touch of honey mixed in. Water, honey, that tea and finally baby formula on the second day. Baby formula thinned to pass through a nipple made just a tiny bit bigger. He'd get real food in a few days when his stomach settled. Carl didn't much care that his baby pants were pink and edge in lace. Claire did. He was cuter in those. Of course Claire was also now sure he wouldn't mind those more frilly baby pants. He might protest the fact they went on babies, but not the color and this, only because she'd found that bra. It was in his backpack. That backpack he'd sat next to his stool that Claire had fetched back to his room. A sports bra and those panties that went along with it. It wasn't something you'd expect to find in a boy's backpack and she smiled. Her young man with his slightly long nails and very long hair was more than likely a boy that liked being a girl at times. Claire didn't know the names of men like that other than cross dressers, but then again the boy laying there in his nightgown wasn't all that much of a man. Those girlish things made sense in a way and he did make a fairly cute looking girl, Claire mused as she fused with his hair. For Claire it only confirmed what she already knew. Unless that boy was riding with someone else, and that wasn't likely, those things were his. She showed her sister, and she too smiled. Made putting him into those girlish baby pants a lot easier she noted with a matter of fact sort of tone. Both women took on a different view of their guest. That view might seem odd if they'd had to explain it. Although Carla now knew enough that when she shampooed and fixed his hair, on that second day after his sponge bath, it made perfectly good sense to make two pony tails at the sides rather than one long one at the back. It'd be more comfortable for the boy as well. A pony tail at the back of his head would be uncomfortable she'd reasoned. The ribbons were added for no other reason than to hold his hair out at the sides. Although ribbons made sense as well. Logical if you could read minds. Although it was Claire who picked the pink satin she used. Susan was a little surprised when she came back that following day with a few more things. She already knew he was a boy but it was clear Claire and Carla were not treating him like one. Definitely not treating him like one as she watched Claire paint his nails. Susan couldn't understand the nail polish, but Claire's sister almost could, and smiled over her sister as she watched Claire draw the pink finger enamel brush along a nail. "That's not going to make him feel any better?" Carla had said after a minute. "I know but it might when he wakes." Claire said bending to blow on the nails she'd painted. Carla having also seen the bra and panties, was more sure than her sister on that part being true enough. A boy that wears girl's clothes is most likely going to like pink fingernails... and toes. Susan on the other hand thought it odd knowing when she'd diapered him she'd diapered a boy. Not much of a boy even when he'd reacted to the baby oil but a boy nonetheless. The bra and panties Claire showed her left any other questions Susan had no longer necessary. Painting the boy's nails was no longer that odd. Susan had been a nurse for a long time and understood such things. Susan had lived in the city for nearly twenty years before returning to take care of her daughter. Susan knew about men like that she noted. Although she didn't need to note that to Claire or Carla. Susan knew that as well as she knew those two women. These acts, were acts of kindness in the minds of those two women. Susan's motives the same when she brought over the nylon nightgown with Barbie on the front after watching his nails get painted. "Thought he might like wearing this when he wakes?" Susan said as she let it fall open. Claire and Carla thought so as well. Carl meanwhile was drifting in and out of sleep, but added that nightgown to his dreams that third night. Some of those girlish thoughts came from the light perfumed water they were now using during his sponge bath. Some of the other thoughts were images of his nails when he woke for those short periods of time he thought were dreams still. Carl had seen Barbie on his nightgown and his fingers and once, for a moment, his toes. Pink is such a pretty color he thought as he fell back to sleep. The nightgown matched the Barbie barrettes he now wore that he didn't see. It was three days of bliss mixing with the hell he was in as his body reacted to the illness while his mind cherished his care. He knew after a time that his dreams were a reality covered sometimes in that foggy version of things. He also knew that there were two women caring for him and perhaps a third. He was sure of at least two. He also knew that he'd liked most of what was happening right down to the thick diapers and those plastic pants his hands confirmed with a gentle touch more than once. One the forth day, he recognized Claire from the restaurant, but the second one he didn't know. He knew she was the one feeding him most times, and he liked that bottle he got when it was dark outside. That bottle he nursed when that second woman was covered in flowing layers of nylon. Carl had woked once to the creep of a door and saw Carla's silhouette back lighted by the hall light and smiled. He smiled because he also saw the baby's bottle she held. It was wonderful images and familiar movements flooding his senses when the bed moved gently as she sat. An awareness for a moment before he took the nipple she teased against his lips. She would rest against the headboard, move his head into the folds of her nightgown and arm slightly then, while he nursed, she hummed something soft and pleasing. A finger stroking his forehead as she did so. There were worse ways to spend your time Carl decided. It was five days before he ate something solid and that was just sightly so given it was still things from Gerber. Toddler size jars was what Carla or Claire were using and some of it Carl didn't like. He did get up to go to the bathroom once and Carla helped him with his shower before walking him back to bed. That first time fully awake was when he knew without a doubt he was in diapers and plastic panties. Carla had taken those off for his shower then pinned them back on again. Although Carl knew what he wore, he didn't protest. He was past that after she helped him into his nightgown first then right back into his diapers the instant he laid down. An act he hardly considered as he lifted his bottom for the soft cotton he'd fallen in love with. Or perhaps Carla's hands might be more accurate. You can't help but like a pair of hands slippery with baby oil. He also liked his silky nightgowns rather than the soft cotton ones. He was easing back into the world, but not out of that one he'd fallen into when Claire came in and sat at his bed's edge. "You up to working your care off?" Claire asked with a smile, and added, "you're going to need a couple of days to get your strength back and I need someone to cut up vegetables for my stew." Carl nodded and sat upright before easing his legs to the floor before pausing for a time. He was suddenly feeling very self conscious of what he was wearing, because he was in the baby pink nightgown this time. Nylon and two layers and as pretty as his Barbie one. "I've got a tee-shirt and jeans in my backpack," he said as he placed his feet on the floor. "You got a diaper on and plastic pants over that, and those stay until you start eating solid adult food again and it stays in for more than five minutes. You don't have the strength yet to make it to the bathroom if things turn sour, so this is going to be better for a time!" Claire said in a matter of fact tone as she laid a summer dress alongside of Carl. "I'm not that sick that I can't wear pants!" Carl said hoping he sounded like he was protesting. He was looking at a sun dress in a light peach and if he had to lose his nightgown to something else he'd definitely settle for that dress. Claire smiled and stroked his cheek lightly. "Honey, I've seen your sports bra and those panties, so don't go getting all macho on me. Besides, you don't look it anyway," Claire said nodding at the vanity mirror set off a bit from where Carl was. Carl didn't protest nor want to suddenly as he bent at an angle to see himself. His hair was parted down the middle again and ribboned into pig tails. That dream he'd had of lipstick wasn't a dream and his nails were still pink. Carl knew he wore ribbons but hadn't seen them till now. He knew because Claire was fixing his hair after his shower when he sat on the bed and while he'd seen the ribbons, and felt them, he hadn't seen them set in place. Claire's mention of that sports bra and panties also ended whatever protest he might have had. "OK?" Claire asked softly. "OK." Carl said softly with his face blushing as he raised his arms so Claire could pull his nightgown off. She followed that with a full white slip clearly not hers, nor Carla's, before the sun dress. There was a pair of white flats Claire moved to his feet before Carl slipped them on. Again Susan had come through, as Carl rose unsteady with Claire's help. The white apron Claire added a bit more femininity to this scene when he made it to the kitchen. Claire tied him into it as Carla entered and said, "well, she's up finally!" "He!" Carl said feeling flush over the exertion and Carla's reference. "Best we stay with 'she' for now!" Claire said before adding, "Sheriff thinks so anyway, and it's going to be a whole lot easier with you looking like you do. Might confuse the locals!" Carl nodded suddenly, and flushed again over the reference. This time his embarrassment smothered slightly with the joy of such a notion. Up to now he'd been in a closet over such things and no one knew. That had ended in the most wondrous of ways as Carl pondered his luck, both good and bad. That bad his illness still. That good their smiles matching his and what he wore. "We sort of favor Carol for now. Sort of matches Carl on your license and Carla and I? You got to have some sort of girl's name if someone should ask." Claire said. "Susan's the only other person that knows and she's just as happy to keep that secret as we are." "Doc does as well!" Carla noted as Claire nodded. Carl was taken back by all of this, and dipped his head down to break eye contact before nodding an embarrassed yes in agreement. Claire eased his face up with her hand under his chin and said with a warm smile, "we've already settled into you being female, like it or not and I suspect you like it, so all you've got to do is settled into it. OK?" Carl nodded and said, "it's just kind of embarrassing is all." "That's what I mean! You just work at getting better, and we'll help you work at that other part. Unless this isn't what we think it is. I mean that was your bra and panties wasn't it?" Claire asked. Carl hesitated a bit. He was five days past where he had been and miles past that closet as he nodded his yes. "Good! Then it's settled. Now my dear, how about working off what you owe us and start chopping up them vegetables for soup. I've got to get back out there and feed those hungry hordes," Claire said patting Carl on the knee. His dress ended a couple of inches above it. Carl nodded and sat there happily as Carla placed a chopping board in front of him before placing the vegetables on newspapers. Carla was peeling husk off of whole corn in the chair next to Carl as he started chopping. They talked of the town, the lumber industry and Carl's former job as they made their way through the vegetables. "So how's that boy?" The sheriff asked as Claire sat a large chicken fried stake and a giant mound of mash potatoes in front of him. "Girl!" Claire said and added, "she's getting there!" "Girl?" The Sheriff asked and added, "what girl?" "What Girl" Claire said sarcastically. "Thought that was a boy that was a bit prissy?" The sheriff said as his eyebrows knitted together. "And that's why I might not vote for you again next year. I think you're beginning to lose some of your faculties!" Claire said laughing as she filled his coffee cup. "Girl? I guess if you say so. Come to think of it when I first saw him... I mean her I was a might confused. Don't see many guys that look like she does? Anyway, so how's the girl then?" Sheriff Emmit asked. Sheriff Emmit wasn't nearly as dumb as Claire's teasing hinted at and he respected Claire a lot so if Claire said he was a she, then he was a she. Besides, that boy had looked a lot like a girl when he'd walked in that first time. Didn't change the way the earth circled the sun as he always said. "She's doing fine. Past the worse part, but she's going to need a few more days before she doesn't wabble," Claire said as she turned around and moved towards the grill. "She said what she was doing around these parts?" Sheriff Emmit asked. It was the cop in him that caused the question. "On vacation before school starts. Was going to work her way around this state and the next near as I can figure." Claire said from over her shoulder. "There was a time when girls didn't do that sort of thing!" Old man Ben said from two stools down as he added, "not in my day at least!" "Ben, girls in your days were still skinning bears and jerking beef!" Claire said making the rest of those people sitting nearby snort and chuckle. Ben joined in as well as he reached over for Sheriff Emmit's salt shaker. "So that was a girl then?" Jack Casey asked looking up at Claire when she moved to their table with her coffee pot. Jack was one of the three truck drivers that stopped there twice a day from their sawdust runs. Breakfast and dinner mostly. "If you think that was a boy that day, then you guys need to start getting out more!" Claire said as she turned back towards the counter. "Told you that was a damn girl!" One of the truck drivers said nudging the one sitting next to him and across from Jack. "Hey Claire! How old is she?" The driver that had just gotten nudged asked. "Don't even think about it you old pervert! She's under my roof and my care, and I so much as see you twisting that red neck of yours her way I'll snap it like a twig! You hear me!" Claire said in a tone suggesting she was kidding but that could change in an instant. "Hey, I was just curious is all!" The man said getting nudged again. "Well, you just stay curious. That child in there been sick as hell, and she's going to need to work on getting better for a time, and I don't want no hairy old pervert scaring her witless!" Claire said. "Yes mother!" The driver said laughing before digging back into his meal. Claire was their mother in some ways, and that reference wasn't always just for the humor of it. Claire was loved and more than that she was the center of that small town. Meanwhile Carl was making progress with the vegetables as he and Carla talked. He was wearing one of Susan's daughter's dresses. A pretty girl that had gotten hit fifteen years ago by a logging truck that had lost its breaks. Chubby then as now, and not really in bad need of those dresses her mother often made for her. Carla asked the obvious in an odd way when she said, "so how long you been a girl?" It wasn't the sort of question Carl was used to answering since his little past time, as he thought of it, had been hidden up to now. He had never considered himself a girl or at least not in the way he assumed Carla was asking. He hadn't thought about it at all, or at least not until a few days ago when he had slipped into that side so completely and so easily. Of late, he had thought about it a lot. That nurturing, that sense of femininity as he drifted in and out of sleep, and those dreams. All wonderful dreams and much of it because of his feminine treatment. His past time dated back to those early days and a dress of his cousin's on Halloween. A party dress and its slip and a pair of panties he'd added when he had a moment and the privacy to switch those for his. "Since I was eight or so I suppose!" Carl said suddenly. Honestly and without the fear it might have caused once. "Long enough I'd say!" Carla said as she continued pulling the husk hairs from the corn as she added, "you ever going to do anything about it?" "About it?" Carl asked before it dawned on him what she was asking. He looked slightly stunned in those seconds and blushed as he added, "no! I mean no, I mean I haven't thought about it much. Sort of something that's a bit more complicated than I... No. I mean not yet?" Carl's eyes drooped slightly and Carla, thinking Carl might be getting tired, suggested a change and a nap. They'd shared the history of the town and restaurant some more and he'd given her his situation up to the day he'd taken ill. He also said, as a hint, that he'd most likely not need the diapers and plastic panties any longer. Oddly enough he didn't feel as uncomfortable wearing them as he might have and decided it was the length of time in them mostly. Although when he did hint at not wearing them any longer it wasn't what he'd actually wanted. There were four baby bottles sitting upside down and draining on a dish cloth. He would hate to give those up as well. Carla, as astute as her sister, sensed Carl's protest as something else and changed her tone instantly insisting that those diapers and baby pants might be better for another day or so. It wasn't going to hurt after this long arguing that a relapse was easily possible. Carl's relief was noticeable and Carla smiled to herself. Carla too hated the thought of giving up those nightly feedings. Carl stood slowly, slightly weak and happy as Carla helped him into the bedroom. Carla helped him out of his dress and slip and the bra he now wore. Carl laid down for his diaper change. It was like a dream only real making it even better than a dream. Although Carl did dream. It was dusk when he woke again. Carl was charged with cleaning the kitchen that evening after his meal and did before falling back into bed. He wore a light green cotton dress over his slip and that apron again. He wore his Barbie nightgown to bed after Claire diapered him. He woke later that night to find Carla holding another baby bottle and smiled as she sat next to him. He woke to his sixth day and his first big fright when Claire suggested he does a bit of work in the restaurant. He could bus tables for an hour, take another hour to rest and do that for the day. Claire wanted him moving about more and busing tables would get him that exercise. "I'm... I'm a guy..." Carl said softly as he held his arms up for his dress. This was a lighter cotton with cap sleeves that flowed around his full white slip as he added, "and I'm in a diaper besides?" "You are not a guy! At least not to me and my sister and, by the way, not to any of the regulars. We've more or less made sure they think you're a girl and frankly you are easier on their eyes as a girl. As for that diaper, might not hurt to leave them on till we're sure everything is going to be OK." Claire said and added, "besides, gives you a cute butt!" "Scary!" Carl said. "Scary? Why?" Claire asked. "Well, because I'm a guy!" Carl said sounding almost sad saying it. "Honey, only three of us around here, not counting the doc, know that. All my regulars believe you're a girl and frankly them finding out otherwise might raise a hair or two. Won't hurt you to keep that quiet till you're well enough to leave. Besides, I'm kind of getting to like the girl," Claire said. "You do?" Carl asked. "Of course! What's not to like. Been taking care of you for days now and in all of that time I've been taking care of a girl. I'm kind of partial to her so what's say she stays like she is till she's ready to ride off into the sunset again?" Claire asked. "I guess?" Carl said, but added, "just scary is all." "That won't last!" Claire said. "I... I guess so. But what about these diapers and baby pants?" Carl asked. "Those might have to end but between you and me, my sister is really enjoying that baby part. Any chance you can keep doing those for her sake? Maybe a day or two more?" Claire asked and added, "I suppose I like those on you as well. Never had kids!" "I... I guess I wouldn't mind that either," Carl said blushing crimson and fighting the smile that was tugging at his mouth. "Thank you! Now what say you get that puffy bottom of yours out there and I'll bet you settle into this in no time." Claire said. "Never waited on tables before!" Carl said smiling. "Didn't mean the restaurant part!" Claire said looking confused suddenly. "I know!" Carl said making a joke of her statement. "You sassing me?" Claire asked taking Carl by the shoulders in a motherly hug. "No ma'am!" Carl said. "Then get that bottom off that bed and start earning your keep!" Claire said tugging on Carl's hand as she rose. "Hey, she's back with the living!" Jack Casey said. "Now ease up on her you guys. She's still weak as a kitten and you scare even me at times," Claire said as she handed the coffee pot to Carl. "Just saying hello!" Jack said. "Well, just keep it at that!" Claire said. "Yes mother!" Jack said as Carl came up and started refilling their cups. It was amazing, this whole scene, Carl thought as the men looked on. They were smiling. "Thank you!" Jack said and added, "Miss..." "Carol. Just Carol!" Carl said in a soft voice he hoped was feminine sounding enough. It was. "Thank you just Carol!" Rodney added with a snort that he had for a laugh. "Give the sheriff coffee to honey! He's no good till his third cup!" Claire said from the grill. "Hi!" Carl said pouring coffee into the Sheriff's cup when he reached him. "Hello Carol!" Sheriff Emmit said and added, "so how you feeling?" "Great!" Carl said and meaning it suddenly. "Too pretty for the likes of this place!" Old Ben said as Carl poured his coffee full. Carl smiled as he moved back behind the counter. Carl wasn't ignored but those in the restaurant settled into their routines before long as Carl bussed tables. Several tourists came and went and two groups of two men each arrived after parking their phone service trucks. Claire's place went through a busy time and Claire had been right Carl mused. He had settled in with hardly a thought save for the diaper and baby pants he wore. Doc came in and greeted Carl as he might a girl, not acting at all surprised over how Carl looked. He smiled as Carl served him an almost too large piece of apple pie with his coffee. It was going to be hard giving all of this up, Carl mused as he bussed the sheriff's empty plates. Carl's saddest moments came when Carla mentioned, in passing, that Susan was going to stop by and pick up her daughter's things. For nearly a week now he'd been wearing his diapers and baby pants and every night going to bed in Carla's arms for his baby bottle. All he could do was nod his understanding that at least this part had ended. Carl was helping serve dinner when Susan came and left. Carl had also nearly worked the entire day and was exhausted by the time Claire turned the open sign to Closed. "Susan had left the dresses, a couple of bras and nightgowns till those too were no longer needed," Carla noted when Carl came into the house part. Carl had his own panties and carried a pair into the shower with him along with the Barbie nightgown. Things, he decided, were coming to an end as he twisted the water on for his shower. "You still awake?" Carla asked after knocking once on Carl's door. "Yes," Carl said from his bed. It was the first night without his diapers and that baby bottle. His door opened and standing there in her long flowing nightgown was Carla again. Carl saw the baby bottle instantly and his heart leaped. "I was wondering... I mean I was sort of hoping that maybe I could still sit with you for a time." Carla said. Carl was having trouble breathing when he also saw the diaper and pair of baby pants in her other hand. "I'd like that," Carl said without a moments thought. In the light of the full moon Carl got a hint of a smile from Carla as she came fully into the room before closing the door. Carla gave Carl his baby bottle after laying the diaper and baby pants down. She quietly lifted his nightgown and easily removed his panties with Carl cooperating. He cooperated just as easily for his diaper and again when she eased his baby pants on. This time, instead of him resting his head in her lap she climbed into the bed next to him and, as he nursed his bottle, she cuddled him close. "Trying to figure out a way to keep this going for a bit?" Carla said softly near Carl's ear. Carl, while still nursing the bottle, nodded a yes. That yes was clear in his eyes as well as Carla moved close to kiss his cheek. "Me too." Carl said after lifting the bottle from his mouth and added nervously, "luckily, I'm on vacation. Don't have any real plans." "I was hoping you'd say that," Carla said moving the bottle so she could kiss him fully on the lips. They kissed for a long moment before Carla teased his bottle back into his mouth. "Good morning sunshine!" Claire said as she came into the kitchen from the restaurant part. It was twenty minutes to six by the clock above the stove as she added, "going into town after the breakfast rush. You interested in a little outing?" "Yes!" Carl said stretching happily. Claire had been up an hour already. "Great! Why don't you get dressed and start coffee out front. I've got the get some potatoes started for lunch." Claire said. Claire came into the kitchen from the bathroom dressed, and smiled at Carl who flushed but smiled back. Things had changed dramatically last night when Carla had eased Carl's baby bottle he was happily nursing after exposing an ample breast. "Well? We've got about fifteen minutes before the locals start banging on the door!" Carla said happily. "Right!" Carl said thankful to get past the awkwardness of that moment. He turned and went back to his room for his clothes. He eased himself out of the diaper Carla had pinned him back into after one of the most enjoyable nights Carl had ever had. You would have thought Carl was a long time resident of Creek Side as the locals started shuffling in. Only the salesman passing through took a menu as the rest started ordering their usual. Carl caught a smile from the man as he thanked who he thought was a very pretty girl pouring him his first cup of coffee. It went like that for the rest of the morning as people came and went before the breakfast rush ended. "Good morning" and "how have you been" or "how are things going" were passed back and forth like it had been going on for years before Carl slipped into the passenger seat of Claire's van. There were cases of frozen foods, some fresh vegetables and dairy behind them when Claire eased the van out of the city. There were also three new uniforms suitable for a roadside dinner hanging in plastic behind Carl as they merged onto the freeway. Those uniforms came right after Carl had said yes that he'd really like to stay for awhile longer. Not sure how long he'd stay but yes, he'd like to stay a bit to Claire's request. She'd pulled into the restaurant supply house soon after that part of their talk, and surprised Carl when she said he'd need something suitable to wear waiting tables. Choosing pink didn't surprise either of them when they walked to the women's uniform section. Carl would wear support hose when Claire suggested it given the hours that 'Carol would be on her feet'. They had laughed over that as they hunted for a suitable pair of flats as well. Carol greeted the truck drivers happily as if she'd known them for years and it was clear her uniform was a hit as the men settled into their usual booth. Surprised the sheriff as well when Carol came up to fill his dinner coffee and take his order. "Twenty six dollars!" Carl, as Carol, said after counting his tips from dinner as she counted out the ones and change. Five of that was from the salesman who said he was leaving in the morning. That came with a "Thanks doll" as Carol bussed his dishes. Carl's blush lasted for a good five minutes after that comment. "So, you think you can live on that since most of what I'd be paying you is going to be going for room and board!" Claire said happily. "I think I can make do if this is just from dinner!" Carl said just as happily. "It's that little apron that got you the tips!" Carla said sarcastically "It's that cute little bottom of hers!" Claire noted. "It's my skill as a waitress!" Carl noted with a laugh. "Fat chance and I should dock you for that plate!" Claire noted. "OK, so I need to practice a little!" Carl noted with a snicker. "Definitely need more practice!" Claire said as she yawned and added, "I'm turning in." "Me too!" Carl said looking at Carla who was smiling as she got up after her yawn. Carl stood leaving the money and his little white organdy apron on the table. "My room tonight?" Carla asked as she moved closer to Carl as he came around the table. "I'd like that," Carl said letting Carla take his hand. "Me too sweetheart!" Carla said as she guided him down the hall towards her room. Carl saw the ruffled baby pants and that pink top instantly causing him to pause for a second to savor the surprise. "Borrowed those from Susan," Carla said as she turned and moved close to Carl. Carl's waitress uniform buttoned down the front from the Peter Pan collar as Carla started there first. Post Script Carol started city collage in the fall taking Restaurant Management courses along with the basics. She was two months past living legally female after the doctor approved her hormone treatments. Her new driver's license and social security card got her past any questions although no one at the time she signed up for classes would have asked. Ebay became a popular past time for Carla and Carol and Carol's closet would give you the impression that it was a litt