A Comedy of AR's

Chapter 70
Freaky Friday (16) – Sleeping With the Fishes

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Paul and I returned to the ‘self-defense’ scene in about an hour.  (I’m not going to call it a murder scene.)  We brought in one of the foot lockers and a bag of supplies.  Then Paul handed out latex gloves to everyone.

“Listen up, you guys,” Paul said.  “You don’t know if any detectives will be investigating this house, so you need to scrub the scene for blood traces, get rid of the murder weapons, and patch up the bullet hole.”

“Sam and I will stay behind in the house?” asked Daniel.

“Yes,” Paul agreed, “but I’m giving you two the job of collecting all her personal stuff … clothes, purses, bathroom supplies … everything.  Hey Daniel, did you used to fuck Yolanda here before she kidnapped you?”

“Oh yeah, Paul … a bunch of times.”

“Perfect, then if someone finds her DNA here, it won’t mean a thing … I’m also giving you a spray bottle of luminol.  After we’re done here, spray it on the living room carpet.  If there are any blood traces, you’ll see it turn a fluorescent blue and you need to scrub it out or cut it out.”

“Got it.”

“The bricks are in the other footlocker in the SUV.  It would be too heavy to put everything into one locker now.  We’ll do that on the boat.”

The next job was pretty gruesome.  Paul pulled the two knives out of the woman’s back and into a couples bags.  “The butcher knife goes in the lake.  Sam, since he twisted the fishing knife in the wound, you can run it through your dishwasher and you should be okay.”

“What about the area rug?” I asked.

Paul answered, “We’ll cut it up for garbage bags later and put it in a dumpster.  Okay, work as team here.  If any of you get squeamish and feel like throwing up … tough shit.”

The four of us got down on our knees and gently rolled the body face up.  Then Paul brought her feet up to her head and tied them off.  Rigor mortis had not yet set in.

“We’re lucky she’s not too big,” Paul said.  “Maybe 125 pounds.  Okay, together now.  Lift her up and place her in the locker … Great, I’m now going to ask the strongest woman in the world to carry the foot locker to my SUV … and don’t say you can’t do it.”

I wouldn’t dare say no to Paul now … not with the mood he was in.  I had never lifted 125 pounds before, even with two arms … maybe because I just never tried.  I grabbed the center handle like a suitcase and pulled.  It took me two efforts.  Jesus, this was heavy. The object put strain on the rest of my body, and I was well bent over.  But not as bent over as Yolanda.

But once that was done, Paul pressed the ignition and we were off to the Buffalo Harbor Marina.

It was 10pm when arrived at the beautiful facility that had space for over 1,000 boat slips.  As it was dark, there wasn’t too much activity going on, but people were still relaxing, dockside and chatting the evening away. 

We put the first locker on a two-wheeler and made the long walk down the narrow four-foot wide dock walkway.  Absolutely no one paid us the slightest bit of attention since people transport equipment containers on and off their boats all the time.

It was certainly more convenient than carrying something shaped like a wrapped up human being.  We lifted the foot locker together and got in on the boat.  Then we repeated the process for the second locker.

Paul’s fishing boat was certainly one of the nicer crafts at this marina … a forty-footer named ‘Adams’ Apple’ with bunks for sleeping down below.  He untied the ropes and turned on his front spotlight … and we were off, at the incredible speed of five miles per hour … a rule because no wake was allowed in the marina area.

Once we cleared the marina, Paul headed northwest at 25 mph.  The lake was calm, so the trip was quite smooth.  Paul handed me a life preserver.

“Did you bring your passport, Derrek?  We’re headed to Canada.”

“Really?”  I said with some surprise.  “How long is that going to take?”

“About ten minutes … You know, Derrek, I have to be honest with you.  Every time I look at you now, it makes me angry.  You stole my child.”

That remark made me feel terrible.  “Paul, I’m sorry.  I never expected something like this to happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he retorted.  “But the fact remains that if she had never met you, she’d still be living a normal life as herself with a distinguished career in psychology, instead of being a little boy with nothing to show for himself besides a dick and two balls.”

I was starting to think that maybe I should be the one to be thrown overboard instead of Yolanda.  I sat the remainder of the way in silence.

There was no sign saying ‘Welcome to Canada’ in the middle of a dark lake, but Paul knew where we were and he cut the engines and turned off most of the lights.

It was very quiet.  From the second foot locker, Paul pulled out two long chains and two padlocks.  He asked me to lift the edge of Yolanda’s locker so he could slide the chains underneath, crossing the two in a perpendicular cross.

Paul opened Yolanda’s box, and low and behold, she was still there.

“Now we fill it up,” he said, pointing to the bricks in the second locker.

We transferred as many bricks as we could, placing them around the woman’s bent form … and then placed some on top of her because the lid was tall.  Paul turned off all the remaining lights on the boat.

When her box was filled, Paul flipped the top down, turned the latch with a key, and then threw the key into Lake Erie.  The chains were next.  One went around the length of the locker and one went around the width, or center, of the locker.

“Hand me the padlocks, please,” Paul requested.

The locks were large enough to not only connect the ends of the chains, but also to interconnect the two chains where they met at a ‘cross’ (or plus sign).  This now reminded me of a steel chest that Harry Houdini would try to escape from.

“Ready to lift, Derrek?” he asked me.  “It probably weighs about 250 pounds now.”

“Ready,” I acknowledged.

“Okay, get a good grip.  And here we go … One, Two, Three … Heave HO!!”

We each lifted one side of the foot locker and managed to loop it over the side rails of the boat.  A sizeable splash of water came back and hit me in the face.  But fortunately, the box quickly disappeared under the dark water.

Paul tossed the butcher knife into the lake and pronounced, “It’s time to head home.”

“Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” my voice called out.

“What’s wrong?” he asked me.

“Uuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”  Somethings not right!

“What is it, Derrek?” he asked with more alarm.

“Uuuuhhh!”  I’m having contractions!  This isn’t supposed to happen to this body!”

“Contractions?” Paul queried.  “Are you having a baby?”

“NO!” I hollered.  “These are the contractions of age regression.  My bones and organs are getting smaller!  I’m getting younger!  This is horrible!

“Is there anything I can do, Derrek?” he asked.

I moaned, “No, but you may have to buy diapers on the way back.”  I brought my head up.  “Paul, tell me what I look like now.”

His eyes bulged,  “Holy shit!  You look like Sammantha when she was fifteen!”

“Ohhh crap!” I moaned.  “I’m like the Wicked Witch of the West when they poured water on her … I’m melting!  My boobs are disappearing!”

“When does this stop?!” he yelled.

“When the contractions stop … Oh god, this is so awful.”

“You look about thirteen now.  Your clothes are falling off.”

“Ooooohhhhhhhhhhh,” I moaned in a high voice.  “I don’t want to be a little girl!”  My pants had dropped off and I looked below and noticed that my pubic hair was gone … and so were my boobs.  I was flat-chested now.

“I think you’re maybe nine now, Derrek.”

I cried like a little girl because I was a little girl now.  I sat under my shirt as the contractions continued.  I felt down below and realized that my pussy was now just a tiny slit between my legs.

“This horrible curse followed me into a new body!  How can I face Sam now?” I wailed through a preschooler’s squeaky vocal cords.”

As suddenly as they started, the contractions stopped, but I continued to cry like a baby.  Was I a baby now?

“Paul, I think it stopped,” I squeaked through my tears.  “How old do I look?”

“Derrek, you might be able to skip the diapers.  You look like Sammantha when she was four.”

I did some more sniffing and added, “At least I’m not a baby, but it’s still going to be hard to face Sam.  I was supposed to be the mom taking care of him.  I’ve failed him.”

“Don’t talk that way, Derrek.  Sam’s got a good heart, and I can see that you two always manage to help each other no matter what.  And if this is the same water curse, won’t you grow back into an adult pretty quickly?”

“I guess so, but this is still a horrible feeling.”

“Alright,” Paul concluded.  “Let’s get a blanket over you and head back.”

An hour later, Paul carried me in a blanket through the front door of Daniel’s house.  Both boy’s jaws dropped and could have hit the floor.

“Dad!  What happened!” Sam blurted out.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” I stuttered through my babyish four-year-old voice.  “It’s the water curse again.  I failed you.”

Sam immediately rushed to take me from Paul’s arms, and he carried me to the sofa.  “There’s no way you failed me, Derrek.  We’ve gotten through a lot, and we’ll get through this to.  You should be back to a grownup again soon.”

I blubbered, “Sam, maybe you should test yourself with water.”

“Oh yeah, let’s do that.”

The boy ran to the kitchen and brought back a bottled water.  Then he poured a little on his hand … Nothing happened.  Then he splashed a bunch right in his face.  Still, nothing happened.

Daniel proclaimed, “So now we know that the curse lies inside a person’s brain and not in their body.  What part of the brain controls involuntary actions?”

Sam said, “Let’s Google it.”

I said in my tiny voice, “Not now.”

Paul said, “I want all three of you kids to come back with me and sleep in my house tonight.  We’ll sort all this out in the morning.”

“But Dad, what about the Porsche?”

“Sam, I’ll have to get a friend and come back for it tomorrow.  You can’t drive it.”

“Christ!” the boy yelled.  “Now I’ll have to wait five years before I can drive!”

“You got a penis,” I reminded Sam in my squeaky voice.

Daniel asked, “Where’s Yolanda?”

Paul quipped, “Sleeping with the fishes.”