The Dino Den - Chapter 2

How had Bertie let it come to this? Two weeks ago, he’d barely known Arthur. Sure, they might have described themselves as acquaintances, but the two were no closer than any other two boys on the street. Today, the precocious thirteen year old was trundling Bertie down the street in a dinosaur themed stroller while he sat sucking on his thumb and cuddling Spike the Stegosaurus - all at the larger boy’s instruction.

It could all be traced back to that fateful Saturday morning when his mother had asked Arthur to ‘keep him company.’ At the time, it had felt like he’d been stuck in an inescapable current with no choice but to obey the larger boy’s increasingly strange whims, but now that he thought back he saw that he’d had plenty of chances to escape the situation. He could have told his mother about the photo Arthur had taken the moment she’d walked in the door. Instead, he’d let himself get distracted - and his mother had come home to him writhing around and giggling like an over-excitable toddler while Arthur doted over him like a favorite uncle.

If she’d arrived just five minutes earlier, she would have found him sat unhappily on Arthur’s lap sporting an award winning pout as he was forced to watch those old ‘Danny and the Dino Den’ DVDs that he’d outgrown a good seven or eight years ago. Just as Arthur had spotted her walking up the driveway however, he’d commenced a coordinated tickle attack on the exposed soles of Bertie’s feet. He’d laughed so hard, he’d almost peed himself for the second time that day - but Arthur had finally relented as his mother made her way into the living room, leaving the boy lying breathless on the couch, grinning goofily like some dopey toddler while the cartoonish Dino Den theme song continued to blare in the background.

She’d been so happy that he’d finally seemed to make a new friend, especially one that seemed to share his enthusiasm for all things dinosaur, that she’d jumped at Arthur’s offer to ‘keep him company’ more often. Now that Bertie thought of it, he could have escaped then as well. He could have just let Arthur do whatever he wanted with that photo and taken the consequences. At least then it would have been over and done with. But he hadn’t. And now it was too late.

From that day on, there wasn’t an evening that went by when Arthur hadn’t found some excuse to hang around his house. Of course, he toned down the worst of the baby treatment when Bertie’s mother was nearby, but that hadn’t stopped him from finding more subtle ways to coddle the smaller boy - tousling his hair, giving him surprise hugs from behind, even lifting his shirt to tickle his exposed tummy on occasion. School was no escape from the relentless toddlerfication -  where Arthur had referred to him as ‘Bertie-saurus’ so many times that even his teachers had started using the nickname.

From a certain perspective all of Arthur’s behavior might have been explained as innocent rough and tumble, a mutual affection shared between friends; but even when he was being discreet the larger boy seemed to know exactly how to communicate their true relationship. It was clear in even the finest details of how he spoke and acted with the boy, and in even the most abstract of assumptions between them. While Arthur was a fully fledged teenager, Bertie was still a very little boy. He might have been fourteen years old, but from Arthur’s perspective the tiny teen had barely graduated from babyhood.

Arthur had become such a fixture in Bertie’s family that one night he’d even convinced his mother to show him all her old photos of the boy.

“It’ll be interesting! '' he'd insisted “I’ve always wondered what Bertie was like back before we were buddies.”

The reference to the pair’s supposed budding friendship had been all that was required to win her over. Bertie had objected of course, but his mother had simply chalked it down to a typical teenage shyness - breaking out the old family photo albums without a moment’s hesitation. Some of the photos dated back ten years or longer, but given the boy’s minimal development in height it wasn’t too much of a stretch to believe that they’d been taken just a year or two ago. The album was a veritable cornucopia of embarrassment. Bertie playing on the beach, Bertie in a stroller,  Bertie on a potty chair - even Bertie pointing excitedly up at a display of dinosaur bones with the conspicuous papery waistband of a diaper poking out over his shorts. He’d almost died of embarrassment as Arthur had oohed and ahhed in admiration, much to mother’s delight.

Meanwhile, Bertie knew that Arthur had been developing a photo album of his own. Although the photos weren’t quite as embarrassing as his mother’s, and although he couldn’t know for certain if Arthur ever intended to actually show them to anyone, he did know that they were easily accessed, easily shareable, and most importantly were dated over the course of just the last few days. Bertie drinking from his sippy cup, Bertie pouting in just his undies, Bertie cuddling up with Spike as he fell asleep in front of the TV.

Arthur had even gone to quite a bit of trouble in his attempts to recreate a few favorites from the family photo albums. One night, when Bertie’s mom had been working late, he’d gone so far as to dig through the garage in search of the boy’s long since discarded clothes, toys, and other babyish paraphernalia. He had been surprised at how much his mother had clung onto, but he supposed it was harder to justify throwing stuff out when the little boy hadn’t physically outgrown any of it. The most valuable prize from that night had been a dark blue dinosaur print stroller, still in good working condition and simply folded up behind a few boxes of similarly childish clothes.

It was a full week later on the first Monday of Spring Break when the time was finally right to take the thing out for a spin. Bertie’s mom was working that morning, and it had already been an emotional day as Arthur had negotiated the little boy first into his Brontosaurus undies, then into his favorite green and white polo, and finally into a pair of adorable dark green corduroy dungarees he’d picked out from the boxes in the garage - complete with a fuzzy felt triceratops applique on the bib in dark blue. The light up T-rex themed trainers had been another battle, but Bertie hadn’t really gone into full tantrum mode until he’d seen the stroller waiting in the corridor. As always however, the storm was soon calmed. Arthur bundled the little boy into the seat and secured the five point harness - giving him his thumb to nurse on and Spike to cuddle until he was “all tantrumed out” and “ready to behave like a big boy.”

Bertie still hadn’t quite calmed down when he popped his thumb out of his mouth upon the pair’s arrival at the bus stop.

“Feeling better?” Arthur inquired, smiling affectionately down at the smaller boy.

“No!” Bertie snapped, kicking his legs uselessly against the straps.

“Oh, you’re still an angry little Bertie-saurus, huh?” he chuckled. “Do you remember what I said about dealing with big feelings?”

Bertie stayed silent. Of course he remembered. Whenever he tried to object to Arthur’s ridiculous treatment, he always said the same thing. That he needed to calm down, that he needed to use his words, that he had to explain what was upsetting him rather than “throwing his toys out of his pram.” Of course, if he ever did try to explain himself, Arthur just retorted that all of his treatment was being perfectly reasonable. He was only supposed to be four years old afterall - and it was perfectly fine for a four year old to wear dinosaur briefs, or have their food cut up for them, or need a reminder to get to the potty on time.

“Big boys don’t throw tantrums, do they?” Arthur continued “Do you remember what a big boy does?”

Bertie grumbled. He hated conceding to Arthur’s way of doing things, but he figured it was better than going back to sucking his thumb. Besides, he was certain that this time he had found a hole in his logic.

“You said I was supposed to be four.” he reasoned, “Four’s too big for a stroller.”

Arthur looked entirely unphased by the observation  “I suppose some little boys might be too big for a stroller at four - but you get so grumpy when you’re all tuckered out, don’t you? This way you can just have a nice rest instead of having to tire yourself out following me around on your tiny little legs.”

“I’m not tired.” Bertie pouted, crossing his arms.

“Oh, maybe not now - but you’ll definitely be a sleepy little dinosaur later, and you’re gonna need to save all your energy for The Dino Den!”

“The Dino Den?”

“Right buddy, that’s where we’re headed. It’s gonna be just like in your favorite show. There’ll be tonnes of other kids to play with and lots of stuff to run and jump around on, and then when you’re all tired out you can just sit back in your stroller and have a nice little nap while I take you home.”

Bertie felt as if he’d just swallowed a paper weight. Other than it sharing a name and, he supposed, likely being themed around that old cartoon dinosaur show Arthur had been making him watch, Bertie had no idea what The Dino Den was supposed to be. Whatever it was however, it couldn’t be good. Just the mention of other kids seeing him like this was enough to make Bertie feel sick - and from the way Arthur was describing it it sounded like he was going to be expected to actually play with them.

“I don’t want to go.” Bertie fussed, kicking against his harness again as he felt another wave of tears forming in his eyes. “Let me out!”

“Don’t throw a fit, buddy.” Arthur hushed, rolling the stroller back and forth soothingly “You can either sit still like a good boy or I’ll have to carry you like a baby. Is that what you want?”

Bertie ignored him, still struggling breathlessly in an attempt to find a way out of the devious restraints. Eventually, Arthur stopped trying to soothe him and simply let out a disappointed sigh - easily unhooking the harness, scooping up Bertie and Spike in his arms, securing both  boy and stuffie on his hip, before folding up the stroller with a click and tucking the bundle of fabric under his other arm.

Just at that moment, the bus arrived - Arthur heaving the boy and the stroller over the threshold and approaching the driver with an enthusiastic smile. Meanwhile, Bertie had begun to sob, hiding his red eyes bashfully behind his stuffie.

“One standard single and one under-six, please.” he requested - juggling his two heavy loads as he handed over a small collection of coins.

“Looks like someone’s in a bad mood.” the bus driver remarked, offering Arthur a sympathetic smile.

“He just decided he didn’t like his stroller. Sure he’ll be right as rain in no time.”

The bus driver gave a knowing look before Arthur continued towards a seat at the front of the bus - laying the stroller down on the floor and sitting Bertie on his knee, gently bouncing him up and down.

“Alright, bud. Let it out.” he reassured, directing the smaller boy's thumb towards his mouth “There’s your thumb. Doesn’t that feel better?”

Bertie didn’t even try to resist, beginning to nurse steadily as the bus got moving. It was a reasonably long journey, but his thumb remained firmly in his mouth the entire time - the steady sucking feeling beginning to feel strangely natural by the time they arrived. He could only manage a muffled moan as Arthur unfolded the stroller again, securing the boy in the straps and tickling Spike playfully against his face before wheeling him off the bus - exchanging a wave of thanks with the bus driver as he did so.

From there, it was only a short stroll to The Dino Den, which turned out to be a rather typical kids soft play area. Even the dinosaur theme seemed to be rather tenuous, and as far as Bertie could tell the connection to the TV show was entirely coincidental. He supposed that should have been expected, given that the show had been off the air for a good ten years and had never been all too successful in the first place, but somehow Bertie felt a strange sense of disappointment. He let out a short grumble as he was wheeled through the door,  but mostly contented himself with hiding his face behind Spike - not even daring to remove his thumb from his mouth.

“One to play, and one to watch.” Arthur announced cheerfully at the reception desk.

“Alrightie.” The reception enthused “And how old’s the little guy?”

“Oh - he’s over three.” Arthur confirmed “He can pay the big kid rate.”

The two exchanged a few more details before Arthur handed over the payment and Bertie was wheeled through a pair of large double doors - immediately entering into a cavernous room dominated by a large climbing frame filled with screaming kids and a number of slides. Near the doors were around a dozen or so picnic tables - a few of them occupied by small groups of bored looking adults. Arthur stopped the stroller in front of one of the unoccupied tables, leaning down to unstrap Bertie.

“Alright, bud. Are you feeling a little better now?”

Bertie shook his head obstinately, hoping that he might somehow be allowed to stay hidden in the stroller if he acted like he was still in a mood.

Arthur smiled patiently, “Well you can’t very well play on the climbing frame with your thumb in your mouth.”

He went to force the thumb out of Bertie’s mouth, but as soon as he had done so Bertie immediately popped it back in. It wasn’t rational, but somehow Bertie clung to the hope that Arthur couldn’t possibly make him get up out of the stroller as long as he kept sucking on his thumb.

“Bertie.” Arthur said sternly “Come on. It’s time to go play.”

“Don’ Wanna.” he mumbled through his thumb, twisting around to hide his eyes in the fabric at the side of the stroller. He held Spike up by his face, using the plush dinosaur as a kind of shield in a feeble attempt to stop any more interference with his thumb sucking session.

He heard Arthur sigh and open up his backpack before he felt some kind of pressure around his right shoulder. Regardless, he continued to press his face against the stroller, committed to his strategy. The next thing he knew however, he was on his feet - Arthur having plucked him out of the stroller and stood him up on the spongy floor. His thumb was pulled forcefully out of his mouth again as he looked down to see a white pacifier featuring a lime green Triceratops hanging from his polo shirt - seemingly tied through one of the button holes with a colorful orange and blue ribbon.

“There you go, buddy. Now you can have something to suck on and play all at the same time!”

As Bertie stared down at the babyish thing, his mouth hanging open in surprise, Arthur immediately seized it up and planted it between his lips. The boy gave it a few nervous sucks - more out of habit than anything else - before spitting it out, looking up at Arthur with a shocked but very much aggrieved scowl.

“Looks like you're feeling better after all.” Arthur commented, swatting Bertie on the bottom and grabbing his hand to pull him forwards towards the play area.

Straight away, Arthur made a beeline towards a pair of boys - one blond and one brown haired - laughing and joking with each other at the bottom of a large slide. The slide reached all the way to the top of the room and must have been around 30 feet tall, designed to undulate up and down and themed loosely around the idea of a Brontosaurus’ back. The boys both looked to be around seven or eight, but despite their apparent age they each had a few good inches on Bertie.

“Hey guys” Arthur greeted them. They both stopped talking -  looking at Arthur with the kind of rapt attention that could only be achieved when teenagers talked to younger boys as if they were equals “What are your names?”

“I’m Luke, and he’s Sam.” the blond boy answered.

“I’m Arthur, and this little fella is Bertie.”

Bertie resisted the urge to hide behind Arthur like a frightened toddler, instead busying himself with trying to untie the pacifier from his shirt; but it was a futile task. He had never been much good with knots, and it was practically impossible with just one hand - his other being occupied ensuring Spike didn’t fall on the sticky play area floor.

“He’s a little nervous.” Arthur continued, “Do you mind keeping him occupied for a while?”

The boys didn’t look particularly thrilled by the idea, but shrugged all the same - acquiescing to Arthur’s natural teenage authority. “Sure.”

“Great!” Arthur enthused, leaning down to give Bertie a final hug. He was about to stand back up when he noticed the flashing lights coming from Bertie’s light up trainers. “Oops!” he exclaimed “Almost forget, no shoes in the play area buddy.”

Bertie let out another little moan, but let Arthur pull his shoes off one by one - each trainer making another little flash as it left his foot. In the end, he was left with only his thin white socks between his feet and the horrible gummy floor.

“Have fun, Bertie-saurus.” Athur commented, pinching the little boy on the cheek before heading off back towards the grown-up area - leaving Bertie alone with the two younger boys.

The two kids looked down at Bertie in the same way that they might have regarded an annoying little cousin they had been lumbered with. He cringed with embarrassment. There he was, dressed up like a toddler, with a pacifier on his chest, being dumped on a couple of second graders in the hope that they might keep him entertained for a few hours purely out of pity.

“How old are you?” the blond boy, Luke, asked bluntly.

“Fourteen.” Bertie shot back - although he knew very well how implausible it must have sounded. All the same, he tried to put on his most menacing expression, hoping that the boys might decide to just leave him alone so he could find some solitary corner to sit in.

Sam just snorted. “No way. You’re just a toddler.”

“I am so.” Bertie insisted sourly, “I’m in the eighth grade.”

“You shouldn’t tell lies.” Luke lectured “The play area’s only for kids 12 and under anyway.”

“Yeah” Sam butted in “And what kind of teenager has a pacifier?”

“And carries around a stuffie.” Luke added.

Bertie felt just a little aggrieved by the last comment, hugging Spike a little closer - but he didn’t bother responding, not really having any kind of explanation.

“Whatever.” Sam shrugged, “I’m going down the slide again.”

The two boys began to walk off - blessedly leaving Bertie behind. The two of them were just about to turn the corner, when Luke looked back.

“Are you coming?”

“No.” Bertie answered simply.

“I told you.” Sam interjected “He’s just a baby. He’s probably scared or something.”

 Bertie narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to scoff “I’m not scared!”

“Oh yeah?” Sam retorted “Then come with us up the slides.”

“Fine!” Bertie exclaimed, easily folding to their weak taunts and marching haughtily up to join them as they climbed up the stairs that led to the slides. There might have been nothing he could do about Arthur pushing him around, but these kids were barely out of diapers themselves! There was no way he could let himself be shown up by a couple of elementary schoolers!

The assignment seemed easy enough once they got to the top. Sam went first, and then Luke - each boy launching himself confidently off the huge wobbly slide towards the big ball pit at the bottom. When it got to be Bertie’s turn, he did feel a little twist of fear in his stomach given how high up he seemed to be, but he slid nervously forwards all the same. His technique left a lot to be desired however, the big dips in the material accelerating him at an alarming rate until he lost control of his trajectory entirely and found himself slipping sideways at a terrifying angle - finally crashing into the ballpit. He thrashed around wildly for a few moments before a hand dragged him breathless and panting to the surface. He only barely managed to maintain his grip on Spike throughout the terrifying journey, and he hugged the toy possessively at his side as he emerged.

“Is he alright?” Sam asked, watching passively as Luke helped him up onto one of the soft mats that surrounded the ballpit.

“I think he’s gonna cry.” Luke observed, looking discerningly at the exhausted, red-faced little boy.

“I’m not crying!” Bertie insisted.

“Yeah, but you were scared though, right?” Sam accused “He probably peed in his diaper!”

“I didn’t!” he denied - looking outraged.

Sam grinned maliciously, easily catching the boy in his trap “But you do still wear diapers, right?”

The boy looked from side to side, confused. “What?” he exclaimed “No I don’t!”

“Whatever.” Sam interrupted. “Let’s go again.”

Bertie followed the pair breathlessly back up to the top of the slides, huffing and puffing partly out of tiredness, but partly out of frustration. The two boys were whispering something to each other, but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Eventually, they arrived - both boys standing aside so Bertie could make his way past them.

“It’s your turn to go first.” Sam explained. “Unless you're too scared…”

“I’m not scared.” Bertie repeated. He approached the edge of the slide nervously, looking down at the huge drop below. He was just about to step forward, when Luke approached his side - placing both hands on his shoulders as if to adjust his stance.

“Here, I’ll show you how you’re meant to stand - if you want to do it properly.” he offered.

The smaller boy nodded his acquiescence, but just at that moment Luke quickly undid the clasp of his dungarees, unhooking the straps from over his shoulders just in time for Sam to come up behind him and pull the whole garment down around his ankles. Bertie barely had time to register what was happening before Sam shoved him directly forwards, sending him tumbling down the slide. He let out a terrified shriek, Spike tumbling out of his grasp as he hurtled front first across the undulating material, the back of his Brontosaurus undies on clear display as he collided head first into the ballpit.

A cruel cacophony of laughter sounded from the top of the slide as Bertie crashed around in the ballpit, dragging his dungarees behind his ankles as he crawled his way out. Looking up, he saw around a dozen kids, not a single one younger than around ten, all staring at him as he fumbled to get to his feet. He felt tears start to well in his eyes, hopelessly straining to pull up his dungarees, but only managing to trip himself up again. He sobbed, feeling a deep instinctual need to hug Spike for comfort, but finding himself empty handed. He looked around desperately, urgently searching for the toy, but he couldn’t see it anywhere.

Just then, he heard the sound of Sam and Luke descending the slide - whooping and hollering as they went. When he reached the bottom, Sam dug around in the ballpit -  eventually finding Spike before running off into the depths of the playground - holding the stolen stuffie high in the air for his ill-gotten prize. Finally, emotionally and physically exhausted, his dungarees still bunched hopelessly around his ankles, Bertie collapsed down bottom first onto the soft mat, letting out a single, long, piercing wail of despair.

Soon, but somehow not soon enough -  a comforting voice accompanied the feeling of a familiar hand landing on his shoulder.

“Buddy? Are you okay?”

Bertie twisted around to see Arthur, his face a wreck of snot and tears.

“Nooo-oh-oh.” he sniveled, his exhausted voice quivering wildly up and down.

“Oh, Bertie. It’s alright. What happened?”

“Those b-boys pulled down my pants…and..and they took Spike…” Bertie sniffed out, trailing off before he could go into any more detail. He covered his face in shame. What was wrong with him? He was supposed to be fourteen years old, yet here he was crying like a baby to a boy a full year younger than him, and all because a pair of kids half his age had stolen his favorite stuffed animal. And yet, as Arthur pulled him into a hug, it somehow felt as if none of that mattered.

“It’s alright. Its alright…” the larger boy repeated again and again, the calming mantra somehow soothing the boy's trembling body as Arthur carefully pulled his dungarees back up and secured them over his shoulders.

“Do you want your paci?” he offered. Bertie wanted to refuse it, but he couldn’t work up the energy to resist - instead choosing to stay silent as Arthur placed it tenderly between his lips. He started to suck, letting out a few more morouse sniffles as Arthur led him back to his stroller.

“Do you know which boys took your stuffie, Bertie?” Arthur inquired gently, helping the boy carefully into his seat.

The boy took a few more sucks for comfort before letting the pacifier drop on it’s ribbon, rubbing his eyes a little before sounding out the names, his voice still a little unsteady. “Luke…and Sam.”

Arthur looked surprised. “The same boys from before?”

Bertie nodded, just as the voice of a well-dressed woman on a nearby table butted in..

“I’m sorry, did he say Luke and Sam?” the woman inquired.

“Yeah.” Arthur confirmed.

The woman put down her styrofoam coffee cup, looking deeply embarrassed. “I am so sorry” she apologized, rising to her feet “Those are my two little terrors. I’ll go and find them for you.”

“No, it’s okay” Arthur re-assured, holding up his hands “Probably easier for me to head in there and grab them. Can you just watch him for me?” he asked, indicating the still shell-shocked Bertie.

“Oh, well if you’re sure - I’m not sure how I’d handle that floor in heels!”

“It’s no problem!” Arthur insisted, kicking off his own shoes and jogging off towards the play area, leaving Bertie alone with the lady.

“What’s your name, honey?” she asked affectionately, looking down at the boy with a sugar sweet smile.

“Bertie.” the boy mumbled hesitantly, hardly happy to be conversing with a woman who viewed him as a certifiable, bonafide toddler.

“Well don’t worry Bertie. Those boys will be back with your stuffie any moment. And they're going to be in quite a bit of trouble too!”

Bertie smiled weakly at the woman, but quickly stared back down at his shoeless feet - suddenly feeling very embarrassed about the whole scene he had made. Those two boys were definitely bad apples, but Bertie knew he hadn’t exactly reacted maturely. He bit his lip, slowly thinking the problem through.

It wasn’t long however before Arthur arrived back on the scene, Spike under his arm and the two boys following meekly behind. He delivered the dinosaur toy into Bertie’s lap, leaving the two kids for their mother to deal with.

“What were you two thinking?” she scolded “Picking on a little boy like that. He can’t be more than half your age!”

Bertie shifted awkwardly in his stroller, all too aware that the truth was quite the opposite. He decided to simply stroke Spike, trying to distract himself from the whole mortifying situation.

“We were just messing around.” Sam offered “We thought he could handle it.”

“He said he was fourteen.” Luke commented wryly, clearly looking for any excuse.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” the mother snapped  “Apologize.”

“Sorry Bertie…” the boys intoned, just a tad out of sync with each other.

“I’m so sorry - again.” she repeated - although Bertie noted that she was definitely addressing Arthur rather than himself.

“It’s no problem” Arthur reassured in a good natured sort of way. “All's well that ends well.”

The woman looked grateful, marching her two boys out of the room before Arthur smiled affectionately down at Bertie.

“You doing okay, little guy?”

“Yeah.” Bertie replied honestly. “But I wanna go home…”

Arthur looked understanding.

“Maybe the Dino Den wasn’t such a good idea after all.” he conceded “Can you give me a roar?”

Bertie looked embarrassed, but co-operated all the same.  “Roar!” he allowed himself to squeal, the silly noise even being accompanied by a little involuntary giggle. He had to admit it made him feel better.

“There’s my happy Bertie-saurus!” Arthur praised, starting to push away the stroller as Bertie laid back exhausted, hovering on the brink of sleep. He let Arthur push the pacifier back into his mouth, taking a few calming sucks as he drifted off into dreamland - a single thought echoing through his weary mind.

Maybe having Arthur around to look out for him wasn’t so bad afterall?