At the end of a quiet street, in a cul-de-sac much like millions of others in America, is a house with only one dim light showing through the window. Inside, at the keyboard of my computer, I sit and work. The T1 line attached to my house gives me the feeling of being connected directly to the internet. I can be what I want, act the way I want, look the way I want when online.
That is the beauty of being “online”.
Nobody REALLY knows what you look like, how old you are or even your gender.
For me, that is a blessing.
At the moment I am in a chat room with other web savvy people that I have known for years. I have never met them in person, but we know approximately where each of the others live in the world and after this long of time, we have almost no secrets.
Almost.
In the way of introductions, I am Grant Jensen, web design wonk and Certified HTML and Javescripting programmer. I have worked with internet companies before, during and after the crash in the late 1990’s.
But for the last 4 years, I have done all my work from home.
That was when I was told I had the A/R Virus.
For those that do not know, I will give you an idea of what this terrible ailment does.
Anyone can contract the disease. Nobody knows where it started, or how it is transmitted.
It reduces you in bodily age over a period of 4 to 6 months and you don’t know where it will stop.
Bouncing…as we call it…the age your body stops regressing at.
Some people really luck out. Start at age 45 and go down to 22. Perfect body for the rest of your life. Or just stop getting older, say at age 17.
Most are not so lucky.
Take me for example. I had my diagnosis at age 37. In 4 months I bounced at the body age of 19 months. I guess it was not TOO bad. I can walk. I can eat anything. I have teeth. I even have bladder control. My only drawback is that I look for all the world like a toddler.
So, I spend my days at home and live on the internet. When I am not in the backyard, gardening.
My real life friends and acquaintances from before I got A/RV have stopped coming around, and the ones I have known forever online never knew the difference. I never told them about the diagnosis, and plan to keep that lack of information in place.
I can do most of the necessary work around the house. I vacuum, wash windows, do the laundry. My wife Carol only deals with food and things that need doing by someone ... taller.
It was really hard on our marriage at first but in the years following the Virus’s run, we have gotten a very good relationship built back up. She was very concerned at first that I might regress to someone needing 24/7 care and she is in NO position to give that.
Carol is the Vice-President of the Business Loan Division at our local bank. She is a whiz with numbers. I love her truly.
When I bounced at this size, she was ecstatic. We get out a few times a month. Dinner and shopping usually, but most of the time she is out alone. She wears her wedding ring proudly. She gets a lot of comments that people never see her husband and she just tells them I travel a lot. That usually works.
She does wear one of those necklaces with the little “person” on it. The ones with the body filled with the child’s birthstone. The ones mothers wear, showing how many kids they have… Never mind. Not important.
So I spend my days designing web pages and keeping the place looking good. I also work out mornings and late afternoon. My doctor is concerned that at the stage of de-development I could start to get frail so I keep up my strength.
I would do more outside but it would only attract unwanted attention. We have only lawn and a few things out by the road. Almost all the flower beds are in the back. Most any nice day I have a chance, you can find me out there in my usual sweats outfit, keeping the bugs and weeds from getting the best of my prize roses.
The lawn I leave to the neighbor kid, Jeff Reynolds. His family is the only one in town that sees me except on rare sightings.
They moved from out of state at the end of last year. Chuck Reynolds works out at the refinery, a management position. He was given notice last year, three days before Christmas that he had to move. The family moved in New Years Eve looking totally shelled.
We did what we could to help them and a good relationship ending up being formed. Nancy, chuck’s wife, was 6 months pregnant, Jeff was 13 at the time and his sister Morgan was 10.
Carol and Nancy hit it off well PLUS we scored a lawn mower that trades work for lessons in HTML. You can’t ask for better.
Although everyone else took my regressed size in stride, it took Chuck a while to get used to it. But even he has worked it and we have since gone fishing together a couple times. Took Jeff once as well.
Nancy had her baby, Amber, March 15. She is starting to crawl and I have been helping them make their house “baby safe”.
We figured I might as well make myself useful. I wandered into each room and gave my impressions of what was and was not safe. There are times having a body this size is advantageous; though not always pleasant.
So when I was once again called upon to help, at first I did not think there would be a problem.
Carol goes to one of those places where you cook a couple dozen casseroles in an afternoon, then freeze them and eat them over the course of a month or so. In that way, I can heat the oven with the dish, make salad and everything is ready when she gets home.
We were having dinner one evening. Carol had gotten home a little late so she was still in her work skirt and blouse. I had on my customary gray sweats outfit.
She looked up and said, “Nancy Reynolds was in to see me at the bank today.”
“Really? What for?”
“She is starting a home business. Have you noticed that quite a few delivery trucks have been going to the Reynolds’s lately?”
I nodded. It seemed like every day either UPS or FedEx was next door wheeling large boxes in or out. I had asked Jeff about it last time he was over for some coaching but he said it was stuff for his sister.
“What kind of home business?” I inquired, as I finished my plate and sat back.
“Turns out she got involved with a bunch of women online that make a new type of diaper, a cloth one.”
I sat listening.
“Anyway, it is really a fascinating system and she has sold honestly hundreds already. It is made in the form of a pocket, with soft inner lining and the outside is waterproof. Then you stuff whatever you want inside it that is absorbent, the way she described it.”
Carol’s face clouded as she realized she had no idea what she had just said.
“Like paper? Or what?” I asked, trying to understand as well.
“No, silly. Not paper…cloth. Cotton, or fleece, I think she said. I had never heard of anything like it. She said that it has really been a new thing. That way you pull all the insides out when you wash them and it is easier to wash and dry the diapers. She showed me one that she uses on Amber.”
“So why did she come to see you?”
“Well,” she began, as she set her napkin on the table and sat a little straighter, “Nancy had a couple of things to talk about. She wanted to know about a loan. With starting a new business and all, they don’t have the funds necessary to get the whole thing rolling. You should see her business plan. You know she sells over a hundred of these diapers a month?”
I replied, “Good for her. You said she had ‘a couple of things’.”
Carol looked a little bit more nervous as she started into the remainder of her story.
“Well, she also wanted to know if we would “help” her with part of the business.”
She watched for my reaction. I gave none.
“Amber is 6 months old now, you know, and Nancy has always gotten her measurements using Amber. She sells a small and a medium size through her online store and mail order.”
I placed my elbows on the table, listening.
“With them being so new in town and all, she really does not know a lot of the people here yet. So she has never been able to get any larger sizes cut and marketed. She needs that additional size to really get their home business off the ground.”
Carol spoke softly the last sentence, “If she does not have a Large size available, I can’t approve the loan.”
I have been described as a bit dense before, and it is an apt description. I sat looking at her without a clue what she was talking about.
“She wanted to know if you would be her model to use for the large size.”
It clicked.
My arms gave out and I almost smacked my chin on the tabletop.
“She what?
Carol held her hands up in an attempt to calm me down.
“Now Grant, honey. I know you have really prided yourself in being able to function basically as an adult. And you do a great job. You do the housework and you get dinner ready and all that.”
I was starting to get down from my chair, looking more than a little agitated.
“Please Grant. Hear me out.”
I sighed and looked at my wife. She had stuck by me through my regression and had been my best coach while the Virus ravaged my body. I could see in her pleading that this was something that she really was insistent about. I eased back into my spot.
“OK. I will hear what you have to say.” It was not very easy to hold back the emotions that were coursing through me.
“Tell me straight out what Nancy wants and I will decide if I will, or even can, be of help.”
Carol smiled. It was that sweet smile that I had grown to love. The smile of a woman that is totally devoted to her man, no matter his lot in life.
I could feel myself melt just a little.
“Nancy does not know anyone with an actual child of your size, and you are the size that would normally require a large…um diaper. All she needs is to measure your waist and legs. Is that too much to ask? You would not even need to take off your underwear.”
Thinking about it as I sat there, it was apparent that what Nancy needed from me would not really all that bad. Also, as I had always worn jockey shorts and we now ordered them from a mail-order AR Virus sympathizing company, I would not even be exposed to my neighbor at any time.
It must have been evident that I was giving this silly request some merit. She pressed her point.
“Look, Nancy says you can come over after Jeff and Morgan are in bed. They won’t even know you were there. Just to measure you, OK?”
I heard myself softly say “OK”, I know that it was my voice. Strange that I could not even remember deciding I would do it. I just looked into my wife’s smiling face, and it popped out.
She almost squealed in delight as she jumped out of her chair.
“I will call Nancy and tell her we can come over about 9:30. Is that alright with you?”
I nodded as I slid down to the floor and headed for the theater room. I decided to indulge myself with a comedy. I selected “What about Bob” and settled down on the couch to lose touch with life for a while.
About the time Bob got done “sailing”, Carol joined me on the couch. She patted my leg lovingly, then turned and we finished the movie in silence.
I looked at the clock. It was 9:15 already.
“You better go upstairs and put on some clean underwear, dear,” Carol said.
My head whipped around so fast it hurt.
“What in the world for?”
Carol blushed slightly. “You want to be sure your underwear is not dirty…if someone is going to be looking at you, do you?”
I had to admit that it would be rather embarrassing, so I took her advice and headed for the master bedroom upstairs.
Mine were the bottom drawers in both the bureaus due to the fact that they were the ones I could reach easiest. I dug out a clean pair or jockeys and took them to our bathroom. After removing my sweats shorts, I doffed my “used” underwear as well. They looked fine to me, but I would change them to make Carol happy.
I decided to take a moment to relieve myself while I had no encumbrances. After that I put the new shorts on, and then pulled on the sweatpants.
I heard the phone ring while I got ready and a short time after Carol came into the bedroom.
“That was Nancy. She said Morgan is in bed and Jeff is at a friend’s house for the night. Only the baby is up. Let’s go.”
She giggled, as if we were doing something super sneaky. Cloak and dagger stuff, you know. I acted like I was tiptoeing out of the bedroom and we both giggled as we headed next door.
The kids were out of the way. Get Nancy the measurements she needed then back home.
Piece of cake.
Right……..
To be continued