To Ling Chin: Thanks For Nothing! Naomi Claussen by ARthur

Chapter 1
Chapter 1

Huddled in his cramped booth, the barely post-teen gas station attendant took his eyes off the televised wrestling match long enough to observe a large white van pull up to one of the pumps. He grinned with anticipation as the van’s side door slowly opened. But his adrenaline screeched to a halt when out jumped a redheaded 8-year-old girl wearing a multicolored dress with a very busy pattern.

"Where’s your teenage sister?" the pimple-faced attendant grumbled to himself. He continued to stare as the girl produced from her skirt’s inside hem a credit card, which she punched into the pump while standing on tiptoes. She then inserted the pump nozzle into the van’s fuel portal and activated the pump.

"Y’got a real lazy mommy, don’cha, girl," the attendant grumbled. "Nothing interesting going to happen there," he added, as he redirected his eyes to his compact TV, where lady grapplers Kat and Terri Runnels were ripping each other to shreds. "Now that’s entertainment," he chuckled.

The attendant missed hopping from the van another little girl, who briskly walked toward the station building. Young Naomi Claussen, with short blonde hair and sporting pen-loaded pocket protector, stared down at her short skinny legs with bony knees, carefully aiming at and kicking pebbles as she moved.

"Not the shapelier legs I had as a women of 35, but they work just as well," Naomi thought. "Things haven’t really been that bad since I was converted into an 8-year-old girl by the Hedweigian witches."

She and the other girls now comprising the Hedweigian-fighting American Association to Aid Age-Regressed Girls (AAAARG for short) may have lost something in rejuvenation, but are still able to apply old skills in the fight to restore other regressed women to their old ages, Naomi thought. Previously a communications specialist with the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), Naomi still applies her computer and telecommunications skills to the AAAARG cause. Zephyr Cassidy, the girl pumping the gas, gave up the power of running the security alarms business she founded, but was applying her organizational and leadership skills to AAAARG, which she also founded.

Ryoko Tenaka may no longer design and tune Indy race cars, but now uses her mechanical skills to operate the AAAARG van and design witch weapons.

Only Ruby Sliparr, formerly a top fashion model of exotic beauty, may suffer from becoming an 8-year-old. As a woman, she enjoyed the company of handsome men, who were more than happy to be in the company of somebody with her totally gorgeous and sexy body. But as a nearly boy-shaped 8-year-old, she is still attracted to men, but is frustrated that they only see a cute little girl, worthy only of a smile and a condescending pat on the head. Becoming younger, Ruby regained her virginity in more ways than one.

Arriving at the door, Naomi reached up, only to find the handle already clutched by the hand of another – a statuesque Asiatic woman who affected an amazed look as she stared at the 8-year-old girl.

Following a fearful interval for Naomi, the woman finally spoke. "You wouldn’t happen to have a mother named Naomi?" she asked. Naomi stood frozen. "Your family name wouldn’t be Claussen?" the woman asked once more. Naomi continued to not move a muscle. She knew this woman, but didn’t want to recognize her, especially since she had last met this woman face-to-face about two years ago, when Naomi was still a woman who had not yet fallen victim to the Hedweigian witches.

"No sprechen englaisch!" Naomi replied, as she turned and high-tailed it back to the safety of the van.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost!" Ruby queried her cohort. "Spook is the proper term," Naomi replied. Reacting to Ruby’s puzzled look, she decided to fill in the details.

"Outside, I ran into a person from my past that I’d rather not meet, especially as a little girl," Naomi explained. "When I worked at the CIA, I briefly made the acquaintance of this woman, when they assigned her to my department to get her out of the field, where she was causing more trouble than she was solving.

"Her name is Ling Chin, and there never was a more gung ho CIA operative. Against orders, she’d inject herself in assignments where she wasn’t needed, pursue her own ideas, and usually mess things up. You know we almost had Fidel Castro ousted in Cuba until she blew our agents’ cover when she tried to smuggle a bottle of Nair-laden beard shampoo into the Presidential Palace. She said after using it, Castro would be laughed out of office," Naomi noted.

"She’s done that and worse! So I don’t ever want her to find out about us and AAAARG," Naomi said. "Whatever you say, Naomi," Ruby replied.

At that moment, the van door slid open to reveal Ling Chin, still wearing a stethoscope. "So you are Naomi Claussen! But you’re no bigger than a girl," Ling said in amazement as she climbed into the van.

Walking around, Ling’s face lighted like a tree at Christmas. "I knew the CIA had some secret project going that only elite agents were invited to participate, but I never envisioned anything like this," she said. "You have a self-contained operation, computers, phones, clothing for all occasions." Staring at Ryoko, Ling added. "And even as little girls, you operate this vehicle with leg extension devices. Amazing!

"How did they make you younger?" Ling asked. "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you," Naomi shrugged.

"And these other little girls. Were they…?" Ling added. Naomi just looked perturbed. "Oh, I get it. So can you introduce me to your crew?" Ling demanded of Naomi. Feeling she had no alternative, Naomi did, noting their previous ages and skills. And if Ling blabbed later – with her reputation, people would only think she’d only gone further off the deep end.

"This is fantastic. You’re all small enough to get into any place to steal secrets and spy on people," Ling gushed. Pointing at Ruby, Ling noted, "Why you’re small enough to hide in Saddam Hussein’s laundry hamper." To which Ruby replied, "Make it Brad Pitt’s laundry hamper and you’ve got a deal."

"Now let’s not hamper this operation. I must ask you to leave," Zephyr added, as she grabbed Ling’s arm and directed her to the van door.

"But I do so want to join your mission," Ling gushed. "The CIA doesn’t assign me to field work any more. Yet this looks like fun. Where do I sign up and get – you know – shrunk?"

"Trust me! You wouldn’t want to be 8-years-old again," said Zephyr, moving Ling faster toward the door.

But on leaving, Ling turned around, "Oh, yes! I have news for you, Naomi," she said. "Just before you vanished, I read your computer message asking for help in locating some bit of contraband art – a Faberge cigar humidor. I found who might have it. But I couldn’t locate you to tell you."

"My age vapors," Naomi replied in utter delight toward Zephyr. Turning back toward Ling, Naomi asked, "Can you tell me where that humidor is now? It’s still very important."

"I can’t say right off the top of my head, but I think I still have notes stored somewhere," Ling explained, adding, "But if I get that data for you, you must let me in on your mission."

Naomi bit hard on her lip, scowled, then replied, "You can join our mission, but only if I get that humidor."

After Ling took off, Zephyr placed her arm on Naomi’s shoulder and inquired, "Why did you allow that overbearing creature who acts more childish than our ages into our private circle? You know we try to maintain secrecy." Zephyr then added, "And what about your age vapors. You’ve never told us how the Hedweigian witches turned you into a little girl. I think it’s about time you did."