Grow Down

Chapter 5
D@#% you, Supreme Court!

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Chapter Description: Sometimes we all wish for a thing called prior restraint.

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C5

In local news, following last week’s accident at Barron Co., Human Interests Labs, President Joseph Barron, who lead this and half a dozen other companies, has ironically been drenched with the strange, age-lowering chemical as his employees. He seems to have gotten the worst and best of it, acting more and more like the young child he now is, but at the same time learning about a talent in the arts that leading experts believed was crushed out of him by his parents at an early age. Doctors have discovered the cure for this strange ailment, and it will be distributed to all the regressed people whose guardians, thats right, GUARDIANS, wish it.

Due to last week’s Supreme Court hearing, the court has decided that all regressed or progressed people are to be treated as those of their chronological age class. There are many angry protesters who believe its the mind, not the body, that should count.

“Vell, vhat do ve do?” Helga asked as she turned the TV off.

“How should I know? Ask the boss!” Joey was playing happily with make-shift action figures, the dinning room table’s candle stick holder and a spoon.

“You got him into this mess!”

“So, you let her in!”

“Ich kann nicht dieses irgendwie l?nger nehmen! Solche Idioten!” Helga mumbled off, defeated.

“OK then, leave him with me!” Robbert fell down into a dinning room chair, defeated. Robbert felt the situation was hopeless. His boss was eight years old, plummeting into financial doom, and had nothing on his mind except for playing and eating. A soft sound knocked Robbert from his fuming daydreams. He looked over, and his anger melted as he saw Joey, fast asleep on the floor. Robbert carefully picked up Joey, and carried him off.

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“Can we see Joey again?” Syrus asked Ms. Regnoff as she was washing dishes.

“For the last time, Syrus, no. We’re too busy here at the preschool to drive you over. Besides, Ms. Farlow from the orphanage will be over to pick you up soon.

“I don’t wanna go there! Its dirty and mean!”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, dear,”

“You’re mean!”

“Maybe I am, but thats not going to get you what you want!” Syrus pouted as he walked off.

In an hour or so, Ms. Farlow arrived with her normal expression, making her appear like she was sucking on a rather sour lemon. Syrus begrudgingly got into the orphanage minivan and they drove off. It wasn’t too long before they reached the orphanage, but it seemed like ages to Syrus. As he exited the minivan, he gasped in surprise. The road, an overgrown, weed-ridden wasteland, connected straight to the road that went up to Joey’s house. Syrus would never forget it. The sun was setting, and so Syrus began to plan.

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Joseph Barron woke up on time the next day, with the morning sun playfully pouring into the room. He felt strangely energetic today, and bounced out of bed. Where he continued to fall and scrap his leg.

“OWWWWWWWW!” With in seconds, Helga came rushing into Joseph’s room, armed with a mop.

“Vhat is it! Vhat is it Joey!”

“Ow! I scrapped my knee! It hurts! And you know not to call me ’Joey’!” Helga stopped rummaging through the bathroom’s medicine cabinet when Joseph finished his sentence. Curiously, she responded.

“But you be telling me and Robbert to call you ’Joey’. That ’Joseph’ is a stupid name,”

“I like my name, thank you very much! And what happened? Why is everything so big?”

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Robbert also awoke to screaming, but it took two to get him out of bed. When he arrived in Joseph’s room, Joseph was gasping for breath on the floor, with Helga rummaging through the medicine cabinet. Joseph’s left leg was oozing sparingly with blood, and the eight-year old clutched it like a battle wound.

“What’s going on now?” Robbert yawned.

“’Joseph’ is apparently being back now,” Helga said with a dissatisfied tone, “And he be scrappin’ his knee up,”

“Oh,”

“Oh, I’m bleeding over here!”

“Yeah, its terribly fatal,” Robbert said wryly. He already missed hyperactive Joey.

“Phone’s ringing!” Joey sang. When nothing happened, Joseph replied, “Aren’t one of you going to answer it?”

“Fine, I’ll get it,” Robbert moved towards the door. When he got to the phone, he found a familiar voice waiting on the other end, and it was straight to the point.

“Have you seen Syrus recently?” Ms. Regnoff’s voice was filled with urgency and worry.

“Um, no. Why would you call here?”

“He’s been obsessed with seeing Joey since we left yesterday, He snuck out of his home at the orphanage some time last night,”

“Whoa, hold up. Syrus lives in an orphanage? I thought you were his mother,”

“How very flattering, but no. Syrus attends our daycare service. He’s an orphan,”

“I see, if we find out anything, we’ll be sure to let you know,” Robbert hung up the phone after bidding Ms. Regnoff adieu. He then ran up stairs to inform Joseph and Helga of this development. The phone rang again.

“Hello, this is Dr. Hinderly at Barron Co, we got your number, saying that Mr. Barron was affected by the accident two nights ago,”

“Oh, um, yes. This is his butler, Robbert.”

“Well Robbert, we’ve worked out a medication that should remove the regression, speeding up Mr. Barron’s aging progress.”

“I see,”

“Is he an adult?”

“Wha?”

“Is he acting like an adult or a child?”

“A little of both, I guess,”

“He’s acting like a teenager?”

“No, what I mean is, he has lapses. He was acting like a child all day yesterday, but today, he’s acting like his old self,”

“Dear me! Thats not good!”

“What! Whats wrong?”

“Well, the aging process we described could destroy the brain if it mentally isn’t ready for the age. If he flip flops, he runs the risk of destroying himself,”

“Well, what do we do about it?”

“Luckily, we’ve have experience with this case. With the chemical Joseph Baron was exposed to, the patient must mentally chose an age to take, and his mind will adept to it as his body does. He can stay a child, but he’ll have to grow up again without his adult maturity. He could also age up. You need to get his choice when he’s acting like an adult and get him to sign a living will stating his choice. It’s the only legal way we can do anything,”

“Alright, I understand, goodbye,” With one glance up at the celling, and a quick massage to the forehead, the only words that came to Robbert’s mind were . . .

“Damn,”

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