The Vanderbilt's Delight and maybe you too?

Chapter 1
The Vanderbilt's Delight and maybe you too?

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Chapter Description: Michael and John meet Mr Handelsman at Grand Central. What followed, this being this site, gets less and less grand, in fact quite little!

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//The Vanderbilt’s Delight and maybe you too?

Sometimes on a Friday I’d meet Michael in the local diner after work. It was refreshing to relax in this little country diner and enjoy a beer or two with my neighbor from a mile away. So it is in rural parts. We’d often talked of many things, but never anything very personal. Halfway down the second beer, he passed a folded newspaper to me, and pointing to an ad said, "What do you think of that?"

I read, astonished at the ad, but more astonished that Michael had passed it to me.

"THE EXPERIENCE SPA

Spend a weekend with us to realize your dreams.

For the current summer, we will be showing our clients to joys of being young again.

We will take you back to your beginnings, safely and easily. See how good it feels again.

Satisfy your curiosity, the trip of a lifetime, and all in one weekend!

Just $120, including transport and accommodation and Spa facilities for the weekend.

Meet at the center of Grand Central Terminal, New York each Friday at 7pm sharp, with this ad and payment in cash.

Do not bring anything with you as everything is provided.

718-321-7654"

The ball was in my court now. I’d heard of weirdos and doubtfully OK passions for regression, but Michael seemed interested or he wouldn’t have circled the ad and shared it.

"I think it’s a bit unusual." I said, adding, "It would certainly be different from a fishing trip!"

"Well, we’re bachelors for the month while our partners are away with relatives. Why not give it a try?"

"It’s only a weekend," I conceded, "and if it is too peculiar we can always leave. It might even be fun."

"How about next weekend if that number checks out?" Michael seemed keen on the adventure."I’ll give you a call."

"Michael, prepare to have the crap beaten out of you at Chutes and Ladders!"

We finished the meal, and talked of many things, the town’s inability to cure an epidemic of street potholes, the evil and persistent rumor that a rival bait-and-tackle was coming and well refreshed left for home.

The drive home was full of questions, as to why only $120 cash only, surely some scam but less likely in a public place like Grand Central. The "bring nothing" seems less curious on reflection, as a total spa experience would be generally inclusive. Yep, Michael doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to Cops and Robbers.

Tuesday at work was the usual battle with nitpicking burocrats and regulatory frustrations. Sometimes it seems we almost forget were in the engineering business. Just a a range of attractive possibilities were coming to me like murdering the boss, hanging myself, planting a small thermonuclear device in the bosses toilet, Michael’s cheery voice on the phone quite rescued the day.

"I spoke with a Mr Handelsman from the Spa. He says it is just as in the ad. We meet at Grand Central and the Spa limo takes us to the Spa for the weekend."

"Where is it?"

"Upstate New York, but he wouldn’t say exactly where. Good to give it at least a little mystery."

"Why so little cash?"

"The Spa is owned by a well-heeled Foundation, and this weekend program is a new venture. If it proves successful, they plan to raise the rates later. I guess we’re guineapigs."

I had half hoped that the plan would be obviously a scam and would come to nothing, but it was now even more interesting.

"OK, kid," I said, "Two squirts for the Spa, then!"

"See you on Friday."

I went back to work but couldn’t concentrate. What would happen? Maybe some sort of hypnotherapy, or a weird Adult Baby thing that folk get locked up for. Hope not.

Friday came and Michael and I arrived at Grand Central with a couple of minutes to spare. We looked around and two couples were waiting beside a man holding a kid-style printed sign. "THE EXPERIENCE SPA", and under, "John Handelsman". We introduced ourselves and paid our money. Mr Handelsman welcomed us and assured us of a trip of a lifetime, just as in the ad. At 7pm , just as in the ad, he made a quick phone call, and led us to the street entrance. We were ushered into a black stretch limo, while Handelsman took the seat by the driver. We slipped off into the New York traffic, already just an anonymous limo going noone knows where.

The limo was comfortable, well lit and well stocked with refreshment, but the windows were so dark it was impossible to make out any detail of our surroundings. We soon found that with the Martini, expertly mixed by one of the ladies, we got to know each other quickly. One couple, Bob and Myra were in their forties and bored and wanted an experience to grab the attention, the other couple Ben and Anna were small business people who like us also wanted to try a really different weekend. All were outgoing and personable good company. Myra’s Martini mixing was so expert that we didn’t notice the time fly until the driver’s window slid open and a cheery Handelsman announced "Welcome to The Experience Spa!"

We were welcomed by spa staff in white uniforms, all with a logo "Experience Spa", interlaced with a monogrammed "2bya" Inside, the building was light airy and in the fading light of day seemed set in rolling hills, typical of upstate New York.

First came Registration. Bob and Myra went first, then Michael and then it was my turn.

A white uniformed woman in her early twenties ushered me into a a comfortable room, like a doctor’s office. I gave my name and age and brief medical history to a matronly woman, maybe fifty or so. Next I was shown to a cubicle to change into the Spa outfit. This turned out to be a zippered sweats, in powder blue with a bear on the chest. The underwear comprised a striped tee and Goodnights. White ankle socks and sneakers completed the outfit with a pale blue hat with the monogram on the front.. What was I expecting? This was the special spa weekend. Then my height and weight were measured and noted. and then I was shown to a comfortable room with many low soft chairs. Bob and Myra were attired in blue and pink and Michael sported a blue outfit like mine. Soon Anna and Ben joined us with a staffer we hadn’t met before.

"Welcome!" the elegant Asian woman started."I hope that you all enjoy your stay with us and that when Monday comes, your lives will feel renewed. Next we will go gradually down the years. Whatever your age now, after the next stage you will perceive that you are all really eighteen years old. The illusion will be complete. You will appear and act as your new age. As before, We’ll call you one at a time, then you’ll all be together again.

Bob, Myra, Michael went and then the door opened. It was a bit like waiting your turn at the doctor’s. I strode through the door into the next room, filled with much equipment, but mostly not gym-equipment, and many of the items were hidden with fitted covers. We went to an open space, where a large circular device lay on the floor. It appeared to consist of a red-colored rim supporting a circular sheet of black fabric. at the center, there was a small circular platform, about the size of a saucer.

"Stand in the middle." Her voice was soothing and that smile was enough to stop any guy in his tracks.

"Good" she said. "Now place your arms by your side, and look straight ahead. I am going to raise the apparatus over you. When it is clear of your head, you may step away. Easy as that!"

I stood. The ring slowly rose, powered by something unseen beneath. There was no sound or sensation, just the faint hum of the machine as it rose. The black cloth was elastic, and a circular central hole was being drawn up and over the sneakers, as the rest of the cloth formed a funnel from about the waist down. The ring continued to rise and as it passed eye level I lost sight of the room. The elastic fabric slowly slid up the legs, arms torso and finally head. Suddenly the device came free from the top of my head.

"How do you feel, young man?" she purred.

"Good, Much the same I think." The voice was different, truly like a late teenager. What else was different?

"This way, Handsome!" as she ushered me out of the room.

The new room was decorated like a teenager’s den. Magazines now included Seventeen, Cosmo and There was Michael, much the same, but much slimmer, a full head of hair and in general looking good. Good wasn’t the word for Myra. She was drop-dead beautiful, a glowing blonde with a figure you just had to hug. So that was how I got my eye blacked by Bob, who didn’t take any too kindly to my advances. Soon we were six way-cool teenagers hanging out and exploring how it feels to explore the world and its limits, despite raging hormones. Anna blew a playful kiss to Michael. He needed no second bidding but certainly restraint from his friend.

The Asian knockout entered the room. "Hi guys. There’s a games room with plenty to eat, and a TV room for quieter times. How d’ya like it so far?"

"Cool!"

"Tomorrow morning we have a choice of horseback riding and kart racing. Be assured, we have the best horses the best karts and the best facilities to enjoy them. See you in the morning" With that she shot a smile over her shoulder and slinked out.

The girls chatted and the boys played pool and air hockey on into the night. Maybe about midnight -nobody cared too much, the matronly woman announced that it was time for bed. She showed us each to individual rooms, each with our name. She would be sleeping at the end of the hallway if we needed anything. Just call for Mrs Blake.

The room was comfortable, with a a single bed and good basic furnishings. A small bathroom was all set up with toothbrush all ready! On the bed were pj’s in the kid’s style of elasticated lightweight sweats. I changed, showered and went to bed. Moments later, there was a knock at the door and Mrs Blake entered, tucked the bed, took the worn clothes and as she wished a good night, switch out the light. I was left to my thoughts. It was kind of good being eighteen again, though the black eye wasn’t so much fun. Michael played a mean game of pool, and Myra and the Asian chick were gorgeous. Yes, this is all very good. Horse or kart tomorrow? Not sure I can stand chattering girls as they’ll certainly go for the horses. Karts it will have to be!

Morning light arrived and Mrs Blake came in, opened the curtains and put out clothes for the day. She said to get up as there was breakfast ready as soon as I was ready. I went to the bathroom, and found that a ten year-old kid looked back from the bottom of the mirror. When I moved he moved. It looked a little like me, but very young. I took a leak. All very good, but the equipment of a ten-year-old. I felt light and agile, but not with the strength of yesterday. It had been a while since the day didn’t have to start with a razor; not so much as peach fluff anywhere now.

I put on the new checkered shirt, and then the boxers, and then the bib jeans and lastly the sneakers. A quick drag of the hairbrush and off to find that breakfast. In the breakfast room, Mrs Blake was organizing breakfast for six rambunctious ten-year-olds. Our high-pitched excited chatter made the decibel level seem even higher. I thought I remembered Myra being a knockout, but she and Anna were in matching pink velour suits, and matching pink polo neck tops, with matching pony-tails. They didn’t seem in the least attractive, in fact it was just not possible to talk to them. They wouldn’t shut up chattering to each other even for an instant.

"Who’s for horses?" asked Mrs Blake. An instantly approving squeal from both girls made the choice clear.

"And who’s for karting?" Four cheering boys made that choice clear too.

Soon Mr Handelsman and the Asian chick came to take us out for the morning. Still didn’t catch her name, but she looks so cool. Handelsman led us to a golf-cart outside and soon we were on our way across a big estate in the rolling hills of Upstate New York. The kart circuit was big, winding and surrounded by safety straw bales and tires. The karts were the latest, gleaming clean and with real racing-slick tires. Handelsman kitted us each out with a helmet which included a voice activated radio, and strapped us in to each of four identical high capacity karts, while he himself squeezed his enormous frame into an older somewhat beat-up lesser model.

"Hi! Can you all hear me?"

"Yes" we all squealed excitedly.

"First, follow me and I’ll show you the course. There’s lots to enjoy here for the best driver!"

Handels man carefully led the group out and round the bends and straights and hairpins and all the challenges of the circuit.

"Got it? Think you can catch me in my little kart?" Handelsman gauntlet was too much for Bob to let pass.

"Ok. Big man. Little old kart. You’re on!"

Handelsman chuckled.

Bob began to close on him, and then Handelsman almost invited him to pass, but there was not quite enough room, so Bob was badly place for the hairpin and going much to fast for the corner. Off he went to "inspect the hay bale", as Handelsman put it. Moments later Bob was back on the track and having another go.

"How do you do it, Mr Handelsman?" asked Ben, intrigued that the faster and lighter kart seemed no match for Handelsman’s skill.

"Ok you lot, you want the old man’s tricks? Try and catch me. I’ll talk you through what I do. Here we go."

"I’m coming!" shrieked Bob.

"Bet you are." said Handelsman calmly. "We’re coming for the straight now, and I give you space to pass, but don’t take it. If you do, you are all wrong for the bend coming up -too fast and the wrong side of the track. I’ll have you easily. Now we come to the wide turn, so easy to take it too fast with a heavy-engine kart. All your weight is in the back. All my weight -too much of it- is in the middle. If we both come fast to the turn, I will slide sideways a little, but the tail-heavy kart will spin out. There’s a start. This old driver needs the pits. See if you can catch Bob!"

With that primer we learned much about the art of track racing, and formed an admiring bond with Handelsman.

"Time to go for lunch." Handelsman announced. Reluctantly we parked the karts in the garage and took the golf-cart to meet the horse-riders.

Mrs Blake had a winning combination of burgers, icecream and soda for everyone. The girls excitedly told us of the horse adventures and we unsuccessfully tried to share the delights of motor-racing. Michael confided that it was fun being a kid again, but My! girls were hard to talk to. I agreed that so far it was a fine time, and would be hard to leave for work on Monday.

The afternoon was sunny. The boys went fishing with Handelsman, and Asia-chick took the girls to the mall. Handelsman had a fine fishing hold on a loop of the river, and a short walk away was the lake, so if the fish weren’t biting in one, there was always the other to try. The Spa had stocked both with rainbow trout and they were not too difficult to catch. We wanted to eat one, but the rules of the season were that they all had to go back.

The sun began to sink, and we made our way back. The girls had a great time in the mall. Mrs Blake said it was time for a shower and change for all of us. So I showered and as I was drying with an enormous towell, Mrs Blake came and took the dirty clothes. On the bed was a blue footy pajama. Nothing else. I expect the others are the same so we’ll look like a kids slumber party for supper, and so it was.

Six ten-year-olds in pink and blue footies enjoyed a fine dinner with spaghetti and jello and icecream. Then came an evening of cartoons on a giant TV. Ten o’clock was announced by Mrs Blake as bedtime. We trooped off to do teeth and bed.

I lay awake for a while, wondering what tomorrow would bring. I suspected that we all would be introduced to another age, probably younger. Hard to know, but whatever it turns out to be, we’ll enjoy it. Dreams of giant trout, heroic wins on the racetrack and plates of spaghetti rounded of the day and into the land of nod.

Mrs Blake opened the curtains and proclaimed a beautiful sunny day!

The bathroom trip was more interesting still. I couldn’t see into the mirror at all; I could barely stand high enough to pee over the edge of the toilet.

There was a small plastic standing stool in the corner. This was a great help. The teeth were scrubbed and the hair brushed, sort of. The day’s attire seemed to be blue stripe Oshkosh B’gosh. There were socks and sneakers and a blue zip-up hoodie.

Breakfast together was fun with colored cereal and fruit juice and toast and peanut butter. The girls were in pink stripe outfits, much the same. Anna and Myra now had hair in bunches with bows. What today, I wondered.

"We have lots of ducks on the lake, and we have boats to ride too. Anyone want to feed the ducks?" I didn’t feel too strongly about feeding probably overstufffed ducks, but the boats seemed fun. So we all zipped up in our hoodies, and Asia-chick took us to the lake. On the way I learned that her name was Jenny Liu. I really liked Jenny Liu, a lot. We fed ducks and we paddled the boats round the lake and tired from much walking and paddling went back for lunch. Michael said that he had forgotten that duck-feeding and paddle-boats were so much fun.

After lunch Mrs Blake insisted on restoom for everyone and then herded us to the room where we waited after registration. What could they have in mind now? There were six tykes only about fire or six as it is.

The door opened and as before Bob and Myra were ushered in. and a little while after, Michael and I were up for our turn.

Inside we saw the same ring and black stretch fabric machine as before, but half the size but now there were a pair of them. There was no sign of Bob and Myra.

"Let’s have you undressed" she said gently, and helped us.

"Stand here, Michael." she said kindly and then "Stand here, John"

We both stood on the platform at the center, and waited. Michael’s ring started to rise first, and soon it was up to his waist and then chest. His feet! His feet were now appearing from the black funnel, but so small!

"No!" I squealed, but the black fabric had now pinned arms to sides and the rising big ring was now blocking my view. The machine continues to rise and as the lower edge of the funnel rose, exposing bare flesh, the air felt cool. Soon the edge was up to my neck, and then over the face. Eyes free again! Standing a little unsteadily by the other machine was Michael. Dressed in a baby blue sleeper, and now sucking on a little blue ringed pacifier. As the machine cleared my head he saw me and smiled.

Just then I was up in the air, on my back powdered, diapered, a tee pulled over my head. No, it’s not a tee, its a onesie! I’m too big for a onesie, but moments later it was legs up again and I too was snapped in and then zipped into a sleeper like Michael. I looked at him standing beside the changing table, and a warm pacifier made its way in and touch the palate. The instinct to suck set in, and moments later there were two of us standing a little unsteadily staring unbelievingly at a similar binkied face.

The staff lady then bent down, cooed something at us and picked us both up together. She pushed the door open with her back and carried us down a hallway and into a nursery, where there was already a pink and blue infant. We were all in a big playpen.

"Michael?" I wanted to say, but it wouldn’t come out. "urrrgle?" Michael smiled anyway. So much had happened in the last minutes. Seems that this is what it feels like to be an infant, maybe about a year or so? The shrinking didn’t bother. The diapering and and onesie were a surprise, but it was kind of nice having someone dress you. The pacifier? Somehow that marked a milestone, but it is so primitively enjoyable.

Then there were all six of us in the pen. Jenny Liu came in with a big case of baby bottles.

"You feed, and I’ll label." said Mrs Blake.

It felt so good to lie in Jenny Liu’s lap. She gently held the bottle to the lips and the reflex to suck was uncontrollable. Half way through, Mrs Blake placed a plastic id bracelet round an ankle. I wonder what it says. The warm milk felt so good and relaxing. In next to no time I had dozed off in Jenny Liu’s arms. Heaven!

I awoke, among five other dozy infants. Someone was talking...

"One more good feed or two and a couple of changes and they’ll be ready."

Well one half of the deal was on the way. I now had no control at all. I badly needed a change. I tried to call, but all that came was an infants lust wail.

"Coming right away" and Jenny Liu scooped me up and had me quickly changed. I had shrunk a little more, so we had a new size onesie and a new sleeper. This one had a hood that buttoned under the chin and enclosed hands and feet. A little elastic kept it close to the face.

Returning to the pen, Michael was similarly attired, with his little mitt clutching the pen bar for steadiness. A his binkied face framed by the baby blue hood rising to a point at the back completed the notion that we had indeed arrived as babies. What did it feel like? Mostly very good and comforting, but soon I lost sight of my companions as we were all put in a row of bassinets for the night.

I don’t remember the morning much but looking up out of a baby carrier, one of a row, anchored in the back of a big stretch limo.

"Six infants, four male two female should land quite the fee at the agency? It was a better batch this week." That was Handelsman, surely, though something was causing my little brain to have difficulty with following conversation. We were up for adoption? Who? and ...

"Here, young man," cooed Jenny Liu, as she gently held a bottle to my lips. "I hope you enjoyed how it feels to be a kid and baby. This will make it all good again."

Good again? Does that mean that we’ll be adult again and I misunderstood. The milk felt so good. and Jenny Liu.. wow!

The milk went down, and after a burp and a change I felt so sleepy. Thoughts of yesterday had faded, Jenny chatted with Handelsman but I couldn’t follow the words any more. Slowly my mind was settling in its now appropriate age. The binkie feels so good. I can’t stand any more but kicking and waving in this sleeper feels fun. The delight of being held, of feeding and sleeping all feel so so good.

"For-month male child, believed in good health, for adoption by the Vanderbilt family."

"Oh he’s so adorable. Can I hold him?"

"You’re his mama now. Sign here please."

 

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