Story #174: Four-Eyes Blinded:

Story #174: Four-Eyes Blinded: (Content Tags: Surrealism, role reversal, messy diapers, mushbrains, symbolic thinking, karma) There's a certain image that wearing glasses can give off; in the relatively short time that they have existed to augment the damaged sight of our species, they have come to symbolize wit, insight, wisdom, and intellect. Whether positively to give a look of genius, or negatively to give off the look of a nerd. Politicians will wear them while on the campaign trail, commentators will put them on for the camera, and the accused will don them in court. All to look more intelligent. On the flipside, for someone who has long worn glasses, it looks strange to see them without wearing a pair. It can make them look like they're stupidly squinting, as if constantly having to turn the gears in their head. Exactly how far can these stereotypes be taken though? To what extreme end? Davis was about to find out. Davis was a clever boy; the pudgy bookworm was near the top of his grade, as he had been since starting his academic career, and he'd worn glasses since before he could remember. Just like the cliche would dictate, he was a real brainiac, and nothing so eloquently spoke to that than the thick glasses that rested up on the bridge of his arrogant, upturned nose. He'd never been one for being humble or modest about his intellect; he actually came across as more vain about it than some of the other smart kids in his grade. The glasses didn't just make him look smart, but they made him look more stylish too; he considered himself to be equal parts intelligent and handsome, so he dressed just as sharp as he believed his wit to be. And then on the complete opposite side of this paradigm, there was an unfortunate boy in his class named Harold. In so few words, Harold was an idiot and a buffoon. He was a slow-witted slob who just as strongly displayed his deficits through his appearance as Davis showed his positive traits. Harold suffered a serious lack of bowel control, which meant he'd been diapered since Davis had first seen him in Kindergarten, and he frankly always smelled like he had a fresh dump in his britches. Harold was intellectually impaired on a level that really should have seen him getting put into a different classroom, but he'd had inclusion with the normal kids for all these years, even though he was helplessly out of his cognitive depth. Every year would see him get a classmate to help him along, like a class pet, and that was essentially how he was treated. While all the other kids had mentally grown throughout the years, Harold had stagnated in place. Still a mouth breather, still eating his own boogers in the middle of class, still pooping in his pants at the frequency of an infant, still functionally illiterate. Most of the kids in their class had grown accustomed to Howard's presence; some ignored him, most teased him, and a few tried to treat him as if he was essentially a toddler in their class. Davis had never grown a tolerance for his presence. Davis found Howard to be gross and that it was demeaning to share the same class with such a disgusting dimwit. Davis always shrank in his seat whenever the teacher was announcing whoever would be given the distinction of being his 'tard wrangler' for the next couple of months. He'd done it once, in first grade, and that'd been whenever his hatred had first sown itself. Stuck babysitting the brainless idiot that kept fudging his Huggies. It was hard to even be near him, let alone right by his side as his 'helping hand' for such a long time. There was no peace to the nose, and not even to the ears, as Howard seemingly always had to pass gas. More than that, Davis had hated being seen with the embarrassment. Davis was obviously very smart, but he had a fear that people may not think so if they saw him next to Howard. It was irrational and vain, but that didn't change the reality of how he felt. One moment during that first grade job had stuck out the most. While helping Howard with his coloring, the drooly boy had taken Davis' glasses and tried them on. He'd giggled and pretended like he was Davis, while the blinded boy angrily tried to get him to stop. Then as if to add insult to injury, Howard had started grunting and had taken a fat, steamy dump in his overalls, all while 'pretending to be Davis'. Just dumbly grunting, straining, farting, and then the crackling exit of a massive turd into the cozy confines of his jumbo-sized Huggies. And then giddy giggling at what he'd done. Something about that had stuck itself deep in his head. He'd never been able to really forget how it had felt. The raw humiliation that resonated on a level he couldn't hope to understand. Fast forwarding to the present, it would come to be time for Howard to get a new helper. As misfortune would have it, it was time for Davis to once again get a turn as the wrangler. Davis was appalled and he of course tried to worm his way out of it, but his teacher wasn't willing to entertain his concerns. Davis couldn't exactly say that he was disgusted by Howard, or that he despised him, not without making himself look like an ableist monster. The die was cast and his number had come up, which meant he'd have to swallow his rage and just do it. The list of responsibilities had grown a fair deal since first grade. While many of the basic functions remained the same, it now looked like he was expected to spend the whole schoolday with his ward, and that he was somehow responsible for keeping the tubby tard in line. Most horrifying was that in the case of the usual changer being busy, then it would fall upon Davis to be the one to change Howard's dirty diapers. That was a line that Davis hoped didn't need to be crossed. So here Davis was in class, his desk conjoined to the one that Howard was seated at. He was just supposed to pretend like the moron was in a place where he belonged, when that couldn't be further from the truth. "Okay Howard, it's time to turn the page to the next problems..." He sighed, trying to coax the dimwit to keep up, though none of the prior problems had been adequately resolved. No surprise there. It wasn't like Howard was actually learning at the same pace as his peers; this was all a show, all just to make him feel as though he was a part of the group. To Davis, he actually thought it to be a cruelty; the school worked so hard for seclusion, that Howard effectively learned nothing, because he was never given an environment that actually made sense for his mental age. Doomed to be mocked for his stupidity, just to check off a politically correct box. Davis worked on his own problems, while Howard picked up a broken crayon and started to happily scribble all over the page of his own workbook. Howard didn't have to worry about grades; it wasn't like anyone expected a worthless imbecile like him to actually do anything other that crap his pants and eat paste. While working, a foul odor was slowly starting to waft up into Davis' nostrils. It was faint at first, but then it grew stronger over the course of the next few minutes. Davis smelled what he was really hoping to avoid for this class period; a terrible start to the day, all emanating from the drooly moron he was seated next to. Undeniably, Howard had pooped on himself. It must have been a less blustery affair than usual, because Davis hadn't heard any gas or the crackling of turds being pinched off. Davis wrinkled his nose and tried to ignore it, but it was becoming too pungent to simply look the other way. "Howard...Did you go?" "I did a poo-poo! Big poo-poo! Smooshy an' warm." The retard grinned widely, as if self-defecation was something to be proud of. "Maked pee-pee too." His loud admission got the attention of their nearby classmates, who began to giggle and whisper to one another. The exchange just made Davis groan and put down his pencil; why had he been stuck with this job? Why must a genius be the one to act as caretaker for someone so completely void of any wit? "Why can't you just use a toilet like everyone else?" Davis grumbled, to which Howard replied by ripping a loud, juicy fart and from the sound of it, splattering the inside of his diaper with a thunderous blast of soft, sticky stool. "Mrs. Avery, Howard needs to go get a change." Davis announced, hoping against hope that he wouldn't be made to take the boy. No such luck. "Okay, Davis. You go ahead and take him to the nurse's office." Davis sighed and got Howard to stand up. The back of his shorts didn't look any different, but the smell made it obvious that there was some poo smuggling going on back there. He took Howard roughly by the hand and made him waddle out of the classroom and into the hall. "Can't believe I got put on retard duty. This is so unfair." Davis bitterly whined as he stomped his way down toward the nurse's office. If Howard minded the crude way he was being talked about, then he didn't show it. He looked too busy using his free hand to pick his nose for any of Davis' complaints to click in his head. He was perfectly content to live a life of brazen stupidity, where dignity was a nonfactor and the greatest accomplishment of each day was nestled in the bottom of his diaper. Davis couldn't imagine taking any pride in living a life like that; it sounded like hell, at least to a normal kid who was looking in. Davis knew Howard was just too stupid to feel any differently, but that was still itself an unfathomable state to be in. It was like if he had never gotten glasses, and he had just spent his life thinking it was normal to not see anything. Whenever he brought Howard to the nurse, and she got down to the business of changing him, it was determined that he'd missed a special event earlier in the year; Howard had missed his hearing and vision test. Davis hadn't thought much about it, and he'd actually opted to wait outside the nurse's office, so he wouldn't have to see the filthy diaper being opened up, but it would be one of two events that changed the scope of his future. The other event came later in the day whenever he'd gone to take a shower after gym class. He hadn't gotten that sweaty, but he felt gross after looking after Howard all day, as if the diaper stench had clung to him, so he was in there for much longer than normal. Whenever he'd returned to his locker, his glasses were gone, as were his normal clothes. In their place were someone else's clothes, and something that sorta looked like underwear to his near-blinded state, but felt very different to the touch. It wasn't until he'd gotten dressed in the strange outfit, that he realized that the 'underwear' felt very thick and cushioned. It felt more like he was wearing a diaper; like whoever had worn it before him had shimmied it down their legs without untaping it. "Hurry up, Davis! The bell is gonna ring soon." Came the voice of a classmate from afar, from someone who was already on their way out of the locker room. "N-no, wait, someone took my glasses and I need some help...!" He tried to call out, suddenly regretting the lengthy shower he'd taken. The bell rung before he even made his way into the hallway. Everything was blurry, and his gait felt too wide, so he was stumbling around like a buffoon. Everything was simplified into vague shapes of color, though if he squinted hard enough, he could bring back some definition to things very close by. A hall monitor finally took pity on his blind stumbling and asked him slowly where he was going. It wasn't phrased as a matter of him not able to see though, but as if he'd gotten lost in a school he'd spent the last few years in. The tone was condescending and syrupy, like the one used to address a small child, but Davis was thankful all the same to be led by the hand back to his classroom. His teacher greeted them at the door and the hall monitor mentioned something about her student getting 'lost' and needing a hand, to which Davis scowled at, but he didn't necessarily argue it. Instead, he pointed out the obvious: "Mrs. Avery, someone took my glasses! And my clothes..." "Come on in, Davis. We'll get you sorted out." She took him by the hand and walked him into the classroom. "Howard can help you with your work." Davis squinted again, though this time as a sign of confusion. How was Howard supposed to help him with anything? Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? Either way, he got walked back to his seat and helped into his chair with a crinkle from his newfound 'underpants'. "Hi Davis!" Howard chirped with a dumb little giggle. "Me smarty now." "Smarty? Huh?" He looked closer and realized something was on Howard's face... "Are those...My glasses? And my clothes?" Howard shook his head coyly, "Nuh-uh. They mine. Nurse lady said I needed glasses. Dat means I smarty now." The logic was spectacularly bad, but not altogether surprising to come from someone as dimwitted as Howard. Glasses might make someone look more intelligent, but they couldn't actually change the intellectual level of someone's mind! Especially not a hopeless retard like Howard. Besides, there was no way that Howard already had glasses, since he definitely hadn't had any during gym class! It was like all those years ago, whenever Howard had plucked the glasses right off his face, except this time it was like everyone was just going along with his buffoonery. Davis snarled, "Give them back, Howard. I don't want you getting your stupid drooly germs all over them." Howard shook his head, "Nuh-uh, they mine. I smart boy an' you not. Dat's why you got on dat diapee." He'd strongly suspected it, but his mind had been trying hard to deny the reality of what he'd slid up his legs. He was really wearing Howard's (thankfully fresh) diaper, and his outfit too; the two boys had completely swapped their ensemble! Davis got red in the face and he raised his hand, "Mrs. Avery! Howard stole my glasses! And my clothes!" There was some laughter from his peers and a small exasperated sigh from his teacher, "Davis, don't be silly. Nobody would steal your clothes. Howard, can you help him with the worksheet?" "Yes ma'am, I help the dumb-dumb." Howard beamed with a broad smile. "I-I'm not the dumb one here! Howard's not smart just because he put on my glasses!" Davis interjected, unable to believe what he was hearing. "If you don't settle down, then you'll need to go to timeout." Davis felt a pat on his back as Howard scooted his seat closer and he opened up the workbook on the desk. It was as if their roles had swapped with their clothes, but not their identities or their minds. Howard was still obviously a total moron, even if he wasn't being treated that way, and Davis was still as clever as ever, even if he was sitting there in a diaper and being treated like a retard. Nobody seemed to find anything strange with this development. His classmates and his teacher were acting as if the natural order had gone on uninterrupted, like it was any other normal day. To them, it was like Davis' entire identity as an intellectual had been tied to the corrective eyewear he'd donned since early childhood. Without them, he lost any credibility as someone with sharp wit, and instead it was Howard who got that benefit. Howard, the same kid who had crapped his pants and eaten paste today. The kid who still wore diapers and was only literate on the most basic level. As much as Davis' glasses conveyed intelligence as a symbol, Howard's diaper conveyed stupidity just as strongly. They were like polar opposites in how a person was to be perceived. Now that Davis had been tricked into putting the diaper on, that beacon of idiocy was attributed to him. A simple accessory, a simple garment, they could shape perceptions so utterly. So thoroughly that the truth was truly optional in favor of symbolic thinking. If Davis was unable to reclaim that component of his identity; if he was unable to put Howard back in the role he belonged...Then he would become the 'new Howard', whether it made any sense or not.