Chapter VII
After breakfast Jeremy let Andrew get dressed--after a fashion. From just his pajama top, he was now allowed to put on a red-and-black striped pullover shirt with a white collar, also to put on white kneesox and tennis shoes, but no pants, not even his tight white single-seat cotton briefs.
This was without a doubt the most embarrassing state of all for Andrew. It made him feel more naked than if he had been completely naked. After all, there were lots of times when it was natural to be naked--every time he bathed and briefly when he undressed. There were times when he went around in just underpants or underpants and a tee shirt--he often slept that way on warm or temperate nights, and often lounged around the house like that on mornings when he did not have to go to school. Frankly he had never been self-conscious about being in underpants at home around his family--until Jeremy had not allowed him to get dressed when he wanted to. Having his underpants pulled down in the rear was indeed embarrassing because it was associated with the pain and shame of punishment. Going bare-bottom in just his pajama shirt was more embarrassing, but obviously a temporary arrangement.
But to be bare-bottomed, wearing his school shirt and socks and shoes--that was downright scary. It was like someone telling him: "You don't need pants any more; you're not going to be wearing underpants either. You're all dressed in your shirt and your socks and your shoes. You have to go around like that, so everyone can see your smooth, round little bottom, your pretty legs, and even your little _d_i_c_k_ and balls. You can't cover anything up, and since you have socks and shoes on, we can even make you go outside like that. We might even make you go in public. After all, you're just a little boy, so you don't have any right to privacy. Everyone should be able to see you bare, even pat your little bottom or spank it if they want to." Yes, that was scary!
The next surprising thing, though, was that Jeremy made Andrew finish his school assignment. It meant teaching him the Nines Table, but Jeremy succeeded where all else had failed. Since Andrew knew the Tens Table, Jeremy showed him how to multiply by nine by first multiplying by ten, then subtracting the given number. As noon drew near they finished the assignment:
"OK, Andrew, what's 9 times 7?"
"Let's see, that would be 70 minus 7, so it's 63."
"Right. Now, you've got it all done. Good work!"
"Thanks. Ah, Jeremy?"
"What?"
"Can I put some pants on now? Please!"
"No."
"Why not?"
"'Cause you're still my slave, remember?"
"OK, but let me put something on, please. I just feel so stupid walking around or sitting around with my wiener and balls hanging out."
'All right, you know that jockstrap you wore with your uniform in Little League? Well, you can put that on."
"But it doesn't cover my bottom at all."
"So, you can have your bottom bare or have everything bare. Which is it going to be?"
"OK, I'll wear the jockstrap."
This was choice, Jeremy decided. There ought to be some sport where nine-yearolds had to walk around in jockstraps. It made their bottoms rounder and fuller than ever. For the next two hours he simply could not resist swatting or patting Andrew's behind every time it was within reach, And several times when Andrew subsequently turned around to answer or follow some instruction, Jeremy could not keep noticing the "tent" in the front pouch of Andrew's supporter.
Still, Andrew kept begging to be allowed to put on some pants, and as three o'clock approached, Jeremy finally relented and let him put on some white soccer trunks. After all, Adam and Casey would probably be coming over soon after they got home from school, and they might suspect something strange if they kept finding Andrew undressed in the middle of the day.
By the time they did arrive it was almost four o'clock. Adam had had a swim practice and had come from there still in his Speedos--his bright red ones-- and team nylon jacket. Melody Jackson, a classmate of Jeremy's who lived down the block, had encountered Adam and Casey on the sidewalk in front of the Carters'. When Adam and Casey had passed by her, she had not only silently admired Adam's shapely legs and torso, but also yielded to the temptation of expressing this admiration by patting Adam on the seat of his Speedos.
"Melody!" he protested indignantly. "Leave my butt alone!"
"Oh, Adam!" Melody replied. "Don't get all mad and bothered. I was just showing you that I think you're cute."
"You girls are all sick!"
"You won't think so when you're a little older."
"Go play 'house' or something."
"Fine. Want to join me?"
"Buzz off!"
Once they were inside the Carters' house, Adam would just as soon have forgotten the whole encounter; however, Casey would not let him. Alternately he would exclaim in a fruity voice: "Oh, Adam, you're so cute!" Then, mimicking his friend's indignant outburst, he would shout, "Melody, leave my butt alone!" Finally, when Adam turned his back on him and tried to ignore him utterly, Casey suddenly seized the legbands of Adam's trunks and made the entire rear of the Speedos disappear into Adam's bottom-crack.
"WEDGIE!" Casey shouted in ecstasy.
Normally sweet-tempered and gentle, Adam was now spoiling for revenge. "OK, that's it!" he declared. "Come on, Andrew and Jeremy, let's pants Casey!"
The brothers needed no further prompting. In an instant the three had tackled Casey to the floor and unfastened his short pants. In another minute both Casey's shorts and his white briefs were down to his knees. Then, with a heroic effort Casey managed to seize his underpants and pull them up again, at least in front. He lost his pants, which Jeremy pried from his grip and slipped over the shoes and off. After that it was a standoff. With Casey drawing his knees up and gripping the waistband in front, the other boys could not get the underpants down lower; with Adam tenaciously holding them down in the rear, Casey could not pull them up. Still, no matter how they tugged, no matter what else they tried-- tickling him, spanking his bare bottom and thighs etc.--Casey would not relinquish his underpants, and at last the other three gave up and let him keep them. However, they then played "keep-away" with Casey's pants for about fifteen minutes, before they tired of the game and finally threw Casey's pants out the back door onto the patio.
Now it was Adam's turn to gloat. "Come on, Case. Better go get your pants before someone else does!" he teased his blond friend, patting him on the seat of his cotton briefs now neither quite as tight nor quite as white as they had been a half hour ago.
Blushing at the thought of going out into the middle of the back yard in his underpants and possibly being seen by some of the neighbors, but faced with the alternative of going home without them and definitely being seen by both neighbors and strangers-- plus catching hell from his parents if he came home pantless--Casey resolutely dashed out the door, ran to his pants and put them on in a jiffy.
Today's pantless ordeals for Andrew and Casey now were over. However, they had given Jeremy an idea which led to the next, and final, part of our story.
Chapter VIII
At last Halloween was at hand. That morning Libby told her sons that she would have to work a bit late, but if she was not back by six-thirty, they should go trick-or-treating without her. She should be home by 7:00 p. m. and would stay home to treat the "goblins" who came to the door, and would be there when her sons came back from their rounds.
Naturally she had talked with Casey's and Adam's parents and determined that the boys were going out as a foursome. In those numbers, especially since Jeremy was twelve, the parents figured the boys would be safe. After all, they were not leaving the immediate neighborhood.
As soon as they got home from school, Jeremy insisted on washing their costumes. He talked enthusiastically about how he wanted them to look just perfect for tonight. Somehow this enthusiasm made Andrew suspicious, He remembered how their mother had beamed with pleasure and praised both costumes when the boys had put them on and walked around in them in front of her. But while Libby had praised both boys and both costumes, she had not concealed the obviously greater pleasure that she derived from Andrew's.
"Oh, Andrew!" she had exclaimed in delight. "Except for your red hair, that costume makes you look just exactly like Robin the Boy Wonder!"
She had sat Andrew on her knee, patted his bare legs, hugged him affectionately, and finally kissed him and remarked: "Oh, you're such a fine boy!"
At that moment Jeremy had looked daggers at his brother. Libby hadn't seen it, but Andrew had. What was wrong with Jeremy anyway? Was he jealous? Yeah, probably.
Well, so what. If Mom wouldn't let Jeremy sit on her lap because he weighed a ton and a half, whose fault was that but his own! Here was the perfect instance to throw up to Jeremy those very words his brother so loved and so oftem used to belabor Andrew: "Tough _s_h_i_t_!" But Andrew knew better than to do so. It would only have enraged Jeremy and caused trouble for sure as a consequence. Now, even with no provocation from Andrew, he knew Jeremy was up to something. Still, hoping it would pass, Andrew minded his own business, did his homework, and watched cartoons.
At twilight Jeremy announced, "Our costumes are all clean and dry now. Let's get changed into them."
Then suddenly his tone changed.
"Aw, gee, Andrew, that's a shame!" he declared.
"What?"
"Your trunks."
"The green Speedos? What's wrong with them?"
"You remember how they were a little frayed at the seam on the left side? Well, now there's a BIG hole in them. You don't want to wear them if they have a hole."
"Let me see! Give 'em to me!"
Andrew snatched them. Jeremy did not let go. The ripping was audible.
"Jeremy, you ruined my Robin pants!"
"Nuh-uh! You made 'em tear when you snatched 'em. But they had a big hole in 'em already. Anyway, you can't wear 'em now."
"Then I've got to find another costume."
"There isn't time to do that."
"Then I'll have to go without a costume."
"No, you won't, either."
"What do you mean?"
"We all agreed to go as super heroes this year. I'm going as Batman, so you're still going as Robin."
"All right," Andrew said tentatively, not fully understanding.
In a few minutes Jeremy was wearing his Batman ski pajamas with the hems of the pant legs tucked into purple socks. He also had on his tennis shoes, black mask, purple latex gloves and the waist-length "cape" fashioned from a bath towel. Andrew had on his red and green shirt with the Robin logo, also the yellow belt and waist-length yellow cape, white tennis shoes, green socks, green latex gloves and black mask. He also had on the brown corduroy shorts he had worn to school that day.
"Uh-uh!" Jeremy declared. "The pants aren't part of the Robin costume. Take 'em off."
"What do you mean, take 'em off!"
"Just what I said: Take 'em off."
"Why?"
"Robin doesn't wear pants. He wears trunks that show all his bare legs. Now that you can't use the Speedos, the closest thing to 'em, in size and shape is underpants. So get those pants off. If the underwear you've got on now is old or loose or has holes in it, put on the best pair you can find."
Reluctantly Andrew unfastened his short pants, let them fall to the floor, and stepped out of them.
The underpants that he had on were almost new, quite clean and fit well. Forlornly he tried one more argument. "It doesn't look right. Robin's trunks are green. My underpants are white."
"Tough _s_h_i_t_!"
"Jeremy, I don't want to do this!" he whined.
:Jeremy was relentless: "Andrew, you better listen to me and listen good. You're gonna go out with us just like that as Robin and act like you enjoy every minute of it. Otherwise, if you're gonna act like a baby, I'll see that you go trick-ortreating as a baby. When Adam and Casey get here, I'll get them to help me: we'll strip you naked and pin a t-shirt on you like a diaper. That'll be all you wear when we go out, and there's a good chance that it'll fall off or get pulled off before we get home. So, it's your choice. Do you want to go as Robin or as a baby?"
"All right, I'll go as Robin. But Jeremy..."
"What?"
"You're gonna be sorry for this."
"Oh, I'm SO scared!"
* * * * *
At 6:15 Casey and Adam arrived, ready to go trick-or-treating. As planned, the two were costumed respectively as Aquaman and Aqualad. Since Sunday Casey had further improved his costume by consenting to a suggestion by his mother, namely that he replace the green sweatpants with green leotards. These in combination with the Speedos and the snug-fitting orange shirt made a really snappy costume. Adam's stunning Aqualad outfit was already drawing the anticipated reaction. Some of the neighborhood kids, especially girls and teenagers, laughed and pointed at his bare legs, a few even made wolf whistles, but for the most part the teasing was good-natured, and many, many people told him and Casey that their costumes were the coolest, with no ambiguity implied.
Of course when they saw Andrew in the new version of his Robin costume, Casey laughed loudly, and even Adam could not help smiling.
"What happened to my Speedos?" he asked.
"They came apart," Jeremy explained. "Hope you're not mad or anything."
"No," Adam said indifferently. "They were old and didn't fit me any more. So what's Andrew gonna do now?"
Emphatically, Jeremy declared: "He's all ready. As you see, he's still going as Robin the Boy Wonder."
"OK," Adam shrugged, "except now he looks more like Robin the Boy Under."
Not to be outdone, Casey commented, "You mean, Robin the Underwear Boy!"
"Shut up, Casey, you doo-doo-head!" Andrew yelled.
"Yeah, shut up, Casey, you doo-doo-head!" Jeremy and Adam chimed in together, and the effect was such that all four boys started laughing and, with no further ado, set out to do their trick-or-treating.
Their plan was to make a circuit of the block, clockwise, house by house, starting at Adam's house, which was next door. Adam's father answered the door, smiled when the four in unison chanted, "Trick or treat!" Mr. Pearson smiled amiably, produced a huge bowl of candy bars, and gave two large ones to each boy. All thanked him, and they went on their way.
In the next hour and a half the boys went to several dozen houses. Unfortunately not all were either as generous or as tactful as Mr. Pearson had been. Parents and grandparents by and large were amused and delighted by the costumes. Several even took slides or snapshots of the four side-by-side in their costumes. Women in particular tended to beam fondly, especially at Andrew and Adam and tell them how "cute" or "adorable" they looked. The boys accepted such "mushy" compliments with good grace, though Andrew did blush when a matron would pat him on the bottom when he walked out the door after thanking her for treats.
Worse were the bachelors and old widowers who, even if they gave candy, usually also ventured comments like:
"Did you forget your pants?"
Or:
"Ain't you kind of big to be runnin' around in your underpants?"
Or:
"Does your Momma know you're outside like that?"
Then there were the boys in their early teens who commented derisively:
"Look at the little fags!"
Still, Andrew could have stoically endured all the preceding treatment as he made the Halloween circuit with his companions, their bags of treats received growing fuller and more delectable at nearly every house. What seriously dampened his evening was encountering classmates from school. Even Bobby Boyle and Jimmy Jersyk, the two goys he disliked most in the whole school, somehow showed up on his block trick-or-treating that Halloween night. They would make sure that he would be teased about his costume for a LONG time. It might be years before kids quit calling him "Robin the Underwear Boy" or chanting:
I saw England, I saw France... I saw Andrew's underpants!
and many other similar annoying inanities. It might indeed have been so, but fortunately it did not turn out that way. Andrew certainly was teased a lot that evening, but something happened as they were finishing their circuit of the block, something that would turn the tables and shift the onus of embarrassment and ridicule away from little Andrew and onto the guilty soul who had contrived his discomfiture.
The Carters' next door neighbor on the left was Mrs. Rasmussen, an illtempered old woman who lived alone with her even more ill-tempered dog. From several houses away the boys could see that her lights were off. Either she was not at home, or she had gone to bed. As eight o'clock drew near, there remained but one more place for the boys to visit: Big Butch Baker's. The lights on his porch and inside shone brightly. Naturally he was home, with treats galore for everyone who came by.
Big Butch had probably passed out a carload of candy already tonight, but his reserves were far from depleted. Although he appeared delighted to see every soul who came to his door on this night, his face could not have beamed more brightly when he opened his door and saw Casey, Adam and Jeremy, and behind them Andrew. At the sight of him they chanted, "Trick or treat!" as though this were the first, not the last house on their rounds, and he joyfully responded by beckoning them inside with both hands. They quickly entered, and almost before they had shut the front door, Big Butch was filling with candy any remaining space in the pillow case that each boy had brought to hold his "loot" for the evening.
Big Butch obviously appreciated the kids' super-hero costumes and was telling them so as he filled their bags... when suddenly he fell silent when he noticed two details: (1) the embarrassed blush on Andrew's face, and (2) the tight, white underpants that the little boy was wearing instead of the green Speedos he had worn Sunday. A look of disappointment and sadness at once passed over his broad, kind face. Calmly, too calmly and very gently he said, "Aw, Andrew, my little buddy, your costume got spoiled, didn't it.?"
"Yes, Big Butch," Andrew told him forthrighty, "it did."
"Did Jeremy do that?"
"Yes, he did."
"Shut up, you liar!" Jeremy screamed.
"I'm not lying!" Andrew protested. "He ripped my Speedos and then he made me go around like this--in my underpants--around the whole block, in front of half the people I know. Jeremy thinks he can push me around and make me do anything he wants. Well, it's not right, and I can't stand it anymore!"
"No, it's not right!" Big Butch agreed. "And I can't stand it anymore either. Jeremy, you did a bad thing! We are going to have to do something about this!"
"Don't you touch me, you feeb!" Jeremy shouted in desperation. "My Mom will call the police! They'll put you under the jail!"
Big Butch did not lay a hand on Jeremy. He did not have to. Like most bullies Jeremy was also a coward. Big Butch simply took one giant step toward Jeremy, and at once the fat boy turned and fled in terror--straight into Big Butch's kitchen and out the back door. Jeremy kept running. Big Butch's back yard was fully enclosed, but that did not stop Jeremy. When he reached the fence separating Big Butch's yard from Mrs. Rasmussen's, he scaled it at once.
Terror impelled Jeremy over the top, but then luck deserted him. His pants got snagged on a loose nailhead on the fence as he went over, and though Jeremy himself escaped injury, his fall, which pulled him free of the nailhead, also tore a large hole in the seat of both his pajama pants and his underpants. To make matters worse, his noisy arrival awakened Bozo, Mrs. Rasmussen's dog, who now set after him with bared fangs. Although again Jeremy somehow miraculously escaped injury, by the time the older Carter boy managed to exit through the gate into the front yard and to slam the gate shut on Bozo, the latter's jaws had closed on the torn cloth several times, finally ripping away every shred of the fabric that had covered Jeremy's bottom. Almost as soon as Jeremy had slammed the gate shut. His relief at his narrow escape was replaced with chagrin at the realization that his Batman pants now looked more like a pair of cowboy chaps--a pair of chaps with no jeans or underwear under them! That _d_a_m_n_ dog had even torn his cape away. There was no way he could cover his bare butt. Everyone was going to see it as he went home...
No! There were paople around him already. Pointing at him and giggling, that little creep Bobby Boyle yelled: "Hey, look, everybody! It's Butt-Man!"
Then here were Adam and Casey, and Andrew and Big Butch and Mom! What was he going to do? What could he say? It was all happening too fast...
Once inside their living room, Jeremy appealed to his mother: "Please Mom! Help me! I didn't do anything! Can't you see? Big Butch tried to rape me!"
To his amazement he felt a stinging slap on the left side of his face.
"Hush your mouth, Jeremy!" Libby demanded in indignation. "I know the truth, so stop your lying. It's bad enough how you've bullied and humiliated your little brother, been rude and disrespectful to our good neighbor, but on top of it all you try lying to me and slandering an innocent man! Jeremy, I am so ashamed of you. I don't know when or how such behavior got into you, but I sure know when and how it's getting out of you, namely right now becaused you are going to get the ass-beating of your young life: Andrew, go bring me the hairbrush please!"
Andrew's face lit up with a big grin. "Yes Mom!" he replied.
"Please, Mom, I'm too big to be spanked," he began, then sensing the need for some hedging, he modified his statement, "er, too big to be spanked bare bottom!"
"Sorry, buster," she declared, bending Jeremy over the armchair, but it seems Bozo has settled that matter. So, as I understand you like to tell your little brother: "Tough _s_h_i_t_!"
With that the hard, wooden-backed hairbrush struck Jeremy's soft, round, bare buttocks with a loud CRACK like a pistol shot.
"OOOOOHHH!" Jeremy wailed in agony. This was only the beginning. By the time his punishment was over, Jeremy's behind looked like two huge overripe tomatoes, and the chubby twelve-year-old was bawling like a baby. His wails and apologies were music to Andrew's ears.
Out on the street the gathering of people had dispersed, all having gone either home or elsewhere for later Halloween festivities. So that she would not be disturbed by the doorbell, Libby had turned out the porch light but left a bowl of treats for any stragglers.
The few stragglers that did come by after eight o'clock helped themselves to these treats appreciatively but not greedily, politely leaving enough for others. Yet what these stragglers remembered about the Carters' house that night was not the candy but the sounds: Though the smacks of the hairbrush against Jeremy's behind were not audible on the porch, the shrieks and howls that they evoked from Jeremy could be heard loud and clear.
"_d_a_m_n_!" one of two teenage boy remarked after taking some candy for themselves from the bowl. "I didn't know the Carters had a haunted house tape!"
Yeah! Awesome!" his friend replied, "That's the best imitation of a Banshee I ever heard!"
As agonizing as this punishment at his mother's hands was for Jeremy, at least it was over and done that night, and the next day family life at the Carters' could get back to normal, in fact to much more normal than it had been for quite a few days.
The worst consequences of his actions were realized when Jeremy got to school the next day, and he had no idea how long they were going to continue. The news of Jeremy's misadventure and Bobby Boyle's witticism had spread like wildfire, and in the wake of it Andre