By
Douglas Greene
cabby456@yahoo.com
“Oh Jesse, you HAVE to appreciate the irony; big bad John, God’s gift to women, in THESE!” she giggled, holding up a pair of tiny training pants. “I wonder if he’s lost his tattoos? That would look pretty weird wouldn’t it, a baby with tattoos? He had them all over his arms…”
“I’m glad you think it’s funny, Sue,” I replied to my wife, trying not to look at the little underwear that she so enthusiastically displayed. “What do you have against him anyway?” I was sorry I asked the questions the moment it left my lips.
“Do you mean besides the fact that he’s hit on me and every other married woman in the neighborhood?” she hissed. “How about the fact that he also hit on Marsha?”
I hoped that wasn’t true. Marsha, the neighborhood babysitter, was barely 14. I knew that John was a pig, but I didn’t think that he’d go that far. “I can’t believe that,” I countered. “Besides, he was under a lot of stress.”
“This was BEFORE he was diagnosed AR positive, dear,” Sue sighed. “Quit defending him.” She took the tiny pants and folded them in a neat little bundle and put them back in the bag that they came from. “Janice told me that she found some computer files.” She stopped short; apparently thinking about whether she should continue. “I know he’s your friend and all Jesse, but this stuff that she found was sick. He could have gone to jail for it.”
“Well, that hardly seems necessary now, does it?”
“I suppose not,” she mused. “Are you almost ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, retrieving my car keys. “Lets get this over with.”
It had been months since we saw John. He was diagnosed with the virus in early spring; we stood by and watched, as he grew younger and younger with each passing day. I offered as much support as I could but when he told me that he intended on committing suicide, I had to tell his wife, Janice.
Janice had him committed immediately to an institution that specialized in dealing with Age Regression Virus patients; I was sure that my friend knew that I’d betrayed him. I felt awful about it, but there was nothing I could really do. The virus ran it’s course, and John was released nearly two weeks ago.
Janice answered the door immediately, and ushered us into the house. The first thing that I saw was the playpen set up in the living room in front of the big screen television. The playpen had a top, and looked more like a cage than a piece of baby furniture.
“He’s still threatening to hurt himself,” Janice whispered conspiratorially. . “I’m going to have to be careful for a while.” As we walked through the dining room, we couldn’t help but notice the oak high chair next to the table and a pair of tiny canvass loafers on the floor. “He’s back in his office. We’re doing some redecorating; please excuse the mess.”
The three of us stood in the doorway, peering into the room that used to be John’s office. Rock and roll music was playing loudly from hidden speakers. The walls were lined with shelving and filled with books. There was a dark leather couch opposite the fireplace and a matching chair; John sat in the corner of the couch, staring at us, ginning broadly.
Nothing could have prepared us for the sight. Jennifer told us that he’d bounced at a physical age of twenty-three months, but he looked even younger than that. He was dressed in white cotton coverall shorts and a blue t-shirt with a butterfly design on the front. The child raised a remote control, deftly pushed a button, plunging the room into absolute silence.
My wife was speechless, and I sensed that she was trying hard to suppress a grin. Searching frantically for the right words, I ended up with only: “Hi John, how ya doin?”
“Just swell Scott. Couldn’t be any better!” the tiny boy chirped sarcastically. “How about a beer?”
“He’s only joking, aren’t you John?” his wife interrupted nervously. “He’s always kidding around.”
The three of us shuffled into the room. I sank into the chair, never taking my eyes off the tiny figure curled on the end of the big leather couch. Sue seemed eager to sit next to John; the cushion sank as she took her place, forcing little John to grab the arm of the couch to keep from toppling over. Janice remained just inside the doorway, arms crossed, carefully observing.
“I just woke up one morning and they were gone,” John said out of nowhere.
“Excuse me?” I muttered.
“My tats! They all disappeared overnight. I bet I had ten grand sunk in body art, and they all disappeared in one night.”
Suddenly, John sat up, and slid off the edge of the couch. Standing in his bare feet, he pirouetted in the middle of the room. “So, take a good look. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He raised his little arms over his head, and spun comically, until he got dizzy and tumbled to the hardwood floor. Janice was there in a second, placing her hands under his arms and lifting him to his feet. “Let go of me you stupid *****,” he hissed, pushing at her hands.
Shaking her head in disgust, Janice immediately let him go, sending him tumbling to the floor. “You said you’d be nice,” she reproved.
“Bite me,” John snapped as he glared at his wife and struggled to his feet. Returning his attention to the company seated before him, his smile instantly returned. “Is this un***** believable, or what?” he squealed, looking up at me. “You wouldn’t believe what it’s like!”
“So why don’t you tell us?” Sue asked solicitously.
Janice rolled her eyes dramatically and sighed as she leaned against the doorframe. “Yea, Johnny, tell the nice people about it,” she prodded. “Tell them how terrible your life is and how bad I’m treating you.”
“Bite me, *****!” he shrieked.
“Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea,” Janice said, looking at my wife. “I thought that maybe it was too soon, but he seemed receptive when I asked him.”
“She makes me wear a diaper at night!” John shouted desperately. “ And she hit me this morning; you have to tell someone!”
“I’m sure that Sue and Scott don’t need to know that you wet the bed,” Janice admonished. “And you know I only gave your bottom a couple of swats to get your attention when you wouldn’t eat your breakfast.”
“But I’m a man, goddamn it! I’m not some little kid!” He folded his arms tightly to his chest, and started stomping with his feet in traditional tantrum style. I was horrified at what I was seeing, and got even more upset when I looked across at my wife and saw that she had her hand over her mouth suppressing a laugh.
Janice took a couple of steps toward John and, grabbing his elbow, dragged him effortlessly from the room. “That’s quite enough for one day, John. I think a little ‘time out’ is in order.”
Sue and I sat alone, silently, in stunned disbelief. We obviously saw what had happened in front of us from starkly different vantage points. I was mortified to see an old friend transformed into a ghastly clown-like parody of his former self. My wife saw a philandering husband and probable pedophile receive appropriate justice.
“Let me out of here!” we could hear him scream from the living room. “You can’t do this to me! I have my rights!”
“You have the right to end up over my knee, if you don’t calm down,” Janice mumbled quietly, a remark that was obviously meant only for us. “Well, that didn’t work out quite the way I’d planned. He can still be quite a handful.”
Sue replied, “So we see.” Pulling out several bags, she continued, “We bought some things for him. I think they’ll fit.”
For the next half hour I sat numbly and listened to Janice and Sue make small talk as poor John wailed plaintively from the other side of the house, begging to be released from the wooden cage in which I assumed his wife had imprisoned him. Janice accepted the clothing that Sue had bought, and they both tittered over the little underpants.
“I’ll make sure he’s wearing these the next time you visit!” Janice giggled.
“It must be hard for you.” Sue sympathized, suddenly changing the subject. “You know, if you want to get out, I’d be more than happy to stop by and watch John. I’m sure I can handle him.”
‘Oh, I’m quite sure of that too! Actually, you remember Marsha, don’t you? She used to baby sit for some of the neighbors.” Janice shook her head up and down affirmatively. “Well, I guess you could say that I have Marsha on retainer. She’s more than happy to help out any time I need her. She stops by every afternoon.” Janice organized the little outfits as she spoke, arranging them in different piles on the table. “She can be a little heavy handed with John at times, but I keep an eye on things. Actually, I’m sure that this is a good thing for Marsha; I know that she has some issues to work out with John.
“It’s amazing how every thing seems to work out in the end, isn’t it?” Sue asked rhetorically as we got up to leave. The broad smile on my wife’s face sent chills though my body.
The screaming from the front of the house had subsided a bit. I couldn’t stand to look at John again, so I exited by the rear door. For some reason, my wife insisted on paying him one last visit before we left, so we met at the car.
“I sure he’ll adjust,” I said unconvincingly as we drove home.
“Absolutely.”
TO BE CONTINUED?