The departure date finally arrived. We were taking a night train that would leave just after midnight, early Wednesday morning. My dad and Mr. Haston drove us to the Zymmers where we picked them up for the ride to the train station. Our luggage had to be coordinated carefully so that the suitcase containing the diapers the four of us would use on the train would be onboard with us and not get sent to the baggage car. Between the four of us our diapers and plastic pants accounted for two very large suitcases, not including the two backpacks that would serve as diaper bags during the day.

We were booked on a deluxe train. The Zymmers would all be together in a family-sized sleeping room while Billy and I would share a sleeping compartment with a top and bottom berth. Shortly after getting on the train Mrs. Zymmers said we had to get to bed. This is when the first surprise of the trip was sprung on us, or, I should say, sprung on Freddie and Timmy.

"I won’t have enough time in the morning or evening to diaper all four of you so, Tinker (Freddie’s sixteen year old sister whose real name was Theresa) will take care of you, Freddie and Timmy. I’ll take care of Billy and Marc," Mrs. Zymmers announced.

"What?" Freddie and Timmy objected. "Why can’t you or dad do it? We don’t want Tinker to change our diapers."

"Boys," she said firmly, "let’s enjoy our vacation. This is not up for debate."

She took a couple of nighttime diapers, plastic pants, and the rest of the supplies and led us to our roomette. The porter had already fixed up the two berths and, after examining them, Mrs. Zymmers declared that there wasn’t enough room for her to diaper us. We trudged back to the family’s bedroom. Freddie and Timmy both jumped when we entered (as they were just in their diapers and plastic pants) but relaxed when they saw who it was. Mrs. Zymmers explained the problem and began making preparations to diaper us on one of the open berths. I had already been feeling uncomfortable having Mrs. Zymmers diaper me but now everyone, it seemed, would see us. Maureen (Freddie’s eleven year old sister) commented that now we really were one big family. I remember laughing nervously.

In the meantime, Tinker was diapering Freddie and making a big deal of talking to him like a little baby. Mr. Zymmers intervened and warned her to get on with the business at hand. She complained that that’s how she always did it when she babysat. Freddie seemed to be on the verge of pointing out that he wasn’t a baby but I guess he thought better of it. After all, his only underwear was diapers and plastic pants.

Mrs. Zymmers had finished with Billy and me. We were standing there in our t-shirts, socks, diapers and plastic pants. It suddenly hit me- we would have to walk to our roomette like this because none of our pants would come close to fitting. By the look on his face, I could see that Billy had had the same thought. Mr. Zymmers also read our hesitation and he offered to accompany us to our berths. We nervously stepped out into the hallway and made a mad dash for our roomette. We made it without being seen. Mr. Zymmers came along a few seconds later to show us how to lock our door and to tell us that he would come to get us in the morning. Despite the late hour, I still had a strong urge to masturbate in my diaper before going to sleep. I didn’t know if the train noises would cover it up or not so I asked Billy if he would mind if I did it. When he informed me that he had already started, I giggled and got busy. As always, the release was magical.

"G’night, Marc."

"Night, Billy."

Billy and I woke up early the next morning but since neither of us had a watch we didn’t know what time it was. Finally, there was a knock on the door. Mr. Zymmers told us it was eight o’clock and that we had breakfast reservations at eight-thirty in the dining car. We followed him to the Zymmers’ bedroom and we were almost there when two guys about our age came out of one of the other roomettes and spotted us. I think they were too shocked to react as we ducked into the bedroom to get changed and dressed.

Later that day, just before dinner, Freddie, Billy, and I were in the observation car looking at the scenery when the two guys who had seen us in our nighttime diapers came up to us.

"Can we ask you guys a question?" the older one asked.

I felt my face flush and looked over to Billy to see that he was also turning red. We had told Freddie about the two guys who had seen us in our diapers and plastic pants so he probably put two and two together and figured out that these must be the ones.

"Yeah, OK," I answered.

"Do you really sleep in diapers every night?"

It didn’t seem that he was making fun of us, so I answered with a tentative yes.

"Oh, we just wanted to know. My mom and dad have been telling us for a long time that we weren’t the only teens to have a bedwetting problem but you’re the first guys we’ve ever seen who wear diapers, too."

I didn’t want to lie to him but I didn’t want to tell him why we were in diapers, either. Freddie saved me by adding, "I wear diapers, too."

This really shocked and pleased them and we began talking about lots of things but mostly about sports. It had gotten dark by the time Timmy came to tell us that we were supposed to go for dinner in the dining car in half an hour. He casually said that if any of us needed his diaper changed, his mom was in the bedroom waiting. Because the observation car was kept dark so that you could see the night sky he hadn’t seen the other two guys there.

This time the younger one reacted in shock, "You wear diapers during the day, too?"

He had said it loud enough for several heads to turn our way. Now at least a dozen people on the train knew. I thought Freddie was going to kill Timmy. We said good bye to the two guys and headed to the Zymmers bedroom. It was only when I was getting my diaper changed that I realized that leaving the way we did had just reinforced the fact that we really were fulltime diaper wearers. We saw those two guys a couple more times on the train and they acted just as friendly as ever so I guess our diapers were not such a big deal to them after all.

I loved San Francisco even though it was really cold (for July anyway, I thought). Before leaving my mom and dad had made me read some travel articles and look at some maps relating to the San Francisco Bay area. Now I was glad that they had made me do it. We went all over the city and I knew an amazing amount of stuff. Even Mr. & Mrs. Zymmers commented on how much I seemed to know about Coit Tower, the San Francisco earthquake, the Ghiradelli chocolate factory, Alcatraz (which closed as a prison that year), and other points of interest. We also took a day trip to the Napa Valley because Mr. Zymmers wanted to visit with some clients he had in the wine business. (This is when I found out he was a consultant who helped businesses in trouble get back on their feet.)

After five days it was time to leave for Los Angeles. The hotel we had stayed at had taken care of our diapers (and other laundry) daily so it was not very difficult to pack. We would be taking a morning train, arriving in Los Angeles in late-afternoon. We had coach seats as we were not going to spend an overnight on the train. We were a little slow to get moving in the morning but we managed to arrive with enough time left over to check the baggage (except for a special diaper suitcase to take care of our needs). This train followed the coastline for much of the trip and we were treated to ever changing scenic views of the Pacific Ocean.

We had been so wrapped up in the trip that it wasn’t until after lunch that I noticed how wet I was. In fact, all four of us were finding our diapers increasingly itchy and uncomfortable. Mrs. Zymmers noticed this, too, so she asked Tinker to get the suitcase down from the overhead rack. We all followed the two of them to the other end of the car where the bathrooms were located. Shortly after boarding, Mrs. Zymmers had asked the conductor where she could change our diapers. He had said that it would be alright to use the ladies’ lounge. Tinker would stand guard while we were in there. The lounge was rather spacious so we all entered together and began taking off our pants and unpinning our diapers to speed the process along. Mrs. Zymmers opened the suitcase and began rummaging through it, a look of concern on her face.

"What’s wrong, mom?" Timmy asked.

"I’m afraid we’ve got the wrong suitcase," she answered.

"You mean there aren’t any diapers in it?" Billy queried, since we couldn’t see inside the suitcase from where we were standing.

"No, there are plenty of diapers and plastic pants, but they’re all nighttime diapers."

"But, we can’t wear those!" Freddie exclaimed, panic rising in his voice. "Our pants won’t fit over them."

"I’m sorry, guys," she continued, "but you’ll have to. I’m not letting you stay in those soaked diapers; you’ll get a terrible rash."

Our protests did no good. In another ten minutes we were all re-diapered. We begged to wear our pants over our diapers but, as desperate as we were, even we could see that it was impossible. We looked more ridiculous in bulging pants whose zippers couldn’t be fastened than we did with no pants at all. This was a lot worse than our "no pants" punishment in the neighborhood. The train was full and must have had about three hundred people on board, all potential witnesses to us putting on view our diapers and plastic pants. Worst of all, our seats were about as far at the other end of the car as you get, just two rows from the back. Mrs. Zymmers put our pants away in the suitcase and, with a giggling Tinker in the lead, we returned to our seats. I can’t describe the looks and stares we got. I’m sure most of the people must have thought we were retarded. Once in our seats Mrs. Zymmers gave us the jackets we had worn that morning in San Franciso to cover ourselves. Typically, Timmy didn’t use his and acted as if nothing unusual was going on. Later in the afternoon, just before arriving in Los Angeles, he even volunteered to go buy us some drinks in the club car, two cars down. (I was surprised that his parents didn’t stop him but I later realized that they simply didn’t want to argue with him- he really was very headstrong).

Getting off the train presented a new set of problems. If we tied the jackets around our waists at least we were covered from behind. (The girls offered Billy and me their sweaters to tie in front but as they were pink with embroidery on them, we obviously declined.) So, diapers and plastic pants clearly visible from the front, we walked off the train and into the station. The large station wagon the Mr. Zymmers had rented was waiting for us when we arrived. We hurriedly loaded the luggage on the roof rack with smaller bags placed inside the car. As cold as San Francisco had been, Los Angeles was hot. For comfort sake, Freddie, Billy, and I reluctantly took off our jackets and gave them to Mrs. Zymmers who stuffed them in the last bag to go up on the roof (Timmy was already gleefully running around in just his diapers and plastic pants). Traffic was stop-and-go and I felt like every truck driver on the road had had a chance to stare down at our exposed diapers and plastic pants. At the motel we were given adjoining second floor rooms. For some reason, Mrs. Zymmers couldn’t locate the bag our jackets were in so we had to haul our luggage up in three separate trips without pants on. I lost count as to how many people saw us at the motel, but lots of them were kids our age. We had only just arrived and already I felt that half the people in Southern California knew all about our diapers and plastic pants.

Disneyland was going to be great. Ever since I was a little kid I had watched "The Wonderful World of Disney" on TV and I felt like I already knew the park by heart. The Zymmers had purchased us two-day passports so they advised us to concentrate on just certain parts of the park on the first day since we were going to be coming back the following day. The Zymmers allowed us to roam on our own; most of the time the girls went one way and us four guys went another. The only problem with this arrangement was Timmy, not that he was a pest or anything. It was because he insisted on wearing his very short European style shorts. Even when he was just standing up you could see the bottom edge of his plastic pants. When he sat down (like in a ride) his plastic pants and diapers were obvious. Even though we were in regular shorts, we felt that the stares he was getting were causing people to look carefully at us, too. We were convinced that people were noticing our own diaper bulges. In the middle of the afternoon, we decided to ditch Timmy and get some private time without people always staring at us. We found the opportunity when he started a conversation with a girl his own age. We rationalized that he was twelve years old and that nothing would happen inside Disneyland. When we met up with the Zymmers for dinner at a restaurant near Adventureland they were obviously upset with us. They lectured us and expressed their disappointment at our behavior. Nonetheless, we stayed through the fireworks show and returned to the motel exhausted.

The following morning at breakfast we got another lecture from the Zymmers and then Mrs. Zymmers took the car out alone. I asked Freddie what was going on.

""My mom said she had some clothes shopping to do for us."

"Huh?" I pursued.

"She’s still mad about what we did to Timmy. I hope I’m wrong about what I think she’s doing."

I asked him to explain himself but all he would say was that he hoped he was wrong. Forty-five minutes later Mrs. Zymmers came into our adjoining room carrying a department store bag. From it each of us was handed two pairs of very short shorts like Timmy’s.

"I think these colors will coordinate well with the other clothes you have with you. Take the labels off and put on a pair right now. We’re leaving in five minutes. By the way, these are the only pants you are to wear for the rest of the trip."

Timmy was sitting in a corner of the room laughing at us during Mrs. Zymmers’ speech. "OK, Timmy, come with me. Let the others get dressed alone."

I picked up my shorts and tried to decide which was better. They were exactly the same except for color.

"I’m sorry I got you guys in trouble," Freddie apologized.

"That’s OK," Billy answered, "Marc and I get ourselves into trouble all the time, even without your help. Right, Marc?"

I laughed at this and agreed. Despite the situation I had a momentary feeling of happiness about being among my friends.

Ever the practical one, though, Billy continued, "We’d better get changed fast, though. Who knows what we might be forced to wear, or not wear, if we’re late."

Fearing that he could be right, we got ready in under four minutes. Disneyland was great again. It’s funny, though, I didn’t think nearly as much about people staring at us now that our diapers were obvious. I just adopted the attitude that there was nothing I could do about it so I just put it out of my mind.

The rest of our time in the Los Angeles area was also exciting. For the last two days, the Zymmers decided to switch to a hotel in Los Angeles itself. This allowed us to do even more sightseeing, including Grauman’s Chinese Theater, Hollywood Boulevard, Griffith Observatory, and Venice Beach where we went swimming in the ocean. We wore bathing suits without our diapers and this caused the funniest incident on this part of the trip. We had finished swimming for the afternoon and the Zymmers had bought us some ice cream at a beachside stand. We were sitting on a beach eating it when suddenly Billy turned very red in the face. Mrs. Zymmers asked if he was choking and he shook his head no. I was sitting right next to him so I was the first to notice the dripping under him. He had forgotten that he wasn’t wearing any diapers and he had just peed himself! He was pretty embarrassed but this didn’t stop us from teasing him. Mrs. Zymmers decided that it was time for us to be diapered again so we were taken to the station wagon and put back into our diapers and plastic pants- with those very short shorts, of course.

The trip back was uneventful except for two bratty boys who kept taunting us when no adults were around. Since the Zymmers were still requiring us to wear our short shorts, it was obvious to everyone that we were wearing diapers and plastic pants. These two boys, maybe eleven or twelve years old, would make pissing and farting noises every time they saw us alone. In a style that was Timmy’s alone, he got them to stop.

On our second afternoon on the train, the four of us were in the upper deck of a relatively empty observation car when these two guys showed up making their now familiar noises. Timmy suddenly stood up in the aisle and, in a flash, removed his shirt and shorts.

"Here," he said, "do you want to see if my diapers are wet or not?" As he took a few steps closer to them, he added, "Let me pull down my plastic pants so that you can get a better look."

The two boys were out of their seats and running down the aisle as if a snake were after them. After that they didn’t taunt us anymore (nor did they allow Timmy to get too close to them). Of course, now that Timmy had his pants off he was very reluctant to put them back on. At least we got him to put his shirt on and to stay in his seat.