Well Wishes

Chapter 12
Just When Things Are Going Well

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Chapter Description: Shane is warring with himself, torn between his continued desire to enjoy a second boyhood, while at the same time looking forward to some very adult activities with Robbie's dad. Then, fate throws a curve ball...

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Shane, when he thought about it, considered himself one of the luckiest men on the planet.

He had deflected a confrontation with Robbie’s angry father into a dinner date a week from Monday. He would spend Saturday, Sunday and part of Monday as a 9-year-old boy, again, already having secured an invitation to spend the weekend with Robbie.

For good measure, he had decided to take Monday off from work, to give himself a few extra hours of boyhood before growing back to adulthood for his date with Steve Williams.

Thinking of that planned date, he got hard, and he fueled his erection with a mental recounting of his charged meeting with Steve a few days ago.

Having opened the door to find a hot-headed Steve on his doorstep, Shane found himself at a disadvantage, initially, when Steve recognized him.

"You! You’re Shane’s uncle?" Steve demanded to know as he shoved past the big man with the form-fitting bathrobe covering most of his body.

Shane laughed, sounding embarrassed. "I didn’t realize you were the father of the famous Robbie," he said.

Steve stared at him, as if trying to think. "But isn’t your name Shane, too?"

Shane remained cool. "It is," he said. "Uh, kid’s named for me."

Steve nodded, but still looked suspicious. He now looked awkward as he looked around Shane’s home.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Shane offered as he closed the front door now that he had moved farther inside the home.

Steve shook his head. "I am here to talk about your nephew," he said. "Do you really think it’s a good idea to let a 9-year-old boy stay home alone?"

He knew a lot depended on his answer. "I can see your point," he said. "But, you have to understand. My brother and I were raised to be very independent. I guess we treat Shane the same way."

He was amazed at how smoothly he formed the lies, how he wove an entire history for his child-sized alter ego. He was more amazed that Steve seemed to buy his story.

Steve grunted, seeming to accept the excuse, in a grudging fashion. "He got sick, you know," he said. "A bad case of strep throat."

"He told me," Shane said, and he reached out and touched Steve’s shoulder. "I appreciate you looked after him."

Steve didn’t flinch, and Shane left his hand on the big man’s shoulder. "Where is he?"

"Oh...Shane..." Shane said. "Well, his father picked him up. I suspect they’re halfway back to Chicago by now."

Shane squeezed Steve’s shoulder. "It’s good of you to be so concerned about him."

Steve’s eyes locked with Shane’s in an intense gaze, and he surveyed the other man’s body. Beneath the white robe, he admitted that he liked what he could see.

Shane felt his dick hardening beneath his robe.

"I’ve seen you at work," Steve said, trying to fill the silence.

"I’ve seen you, too," Shane said, and he leaned closer to the big man and planted his mouth over Steve’s lips for a kiss that surprised him as much as it did Steve.

But Robbie’s father didn’t pull back. Instead, he responded, with enthusiasm, and they soon were locked in a hot embrace. Groping led from one thing to another, and soon Shane tried to peel up the big man’s T-shirt and get it off his torso.

That seemed to pull Steve back from the brink. He planted the flat of a hand against Shane’s chest. His fingers pressed against his bare chest, but he kept the other man at bay.

"Look, I don’t go for flings and one-night stands," he said gruffly.

Shane took a breath, ignored his raging hard-on, and agreed.

"So, why don’t we make a date?" He suggested. "Get to know each other better, and see where this could lead."

Steve discussed his job schedule, and finally they worked out that he would be free in the evening the Monday of next week.

"I know a great place," Steve said. "Conley’s. They have the best steaks."

•••••

Once Steve departed, Shane rubbed his burgeoning erection through the robe. "A whole week!" He said aloud, thinking of the torture of waiting that long.

He used to have self-control and patience, but now waiting seemed like an agony for him. He suspected that was something left over from all the time he had spent as a 9-year-old boy, and one not blessed with a lot of restraint or the ability to wait patiently.

The next day, freshly shaved and showed, he showed up at the office in his best suit, hoping to salvage his job after his unexcused absences the previous week.

His manager made him wait in the receptionist’s outer office for almost 20 minutes before he asked her to show him into the office.

Shane had never before felt so intimidated in front of his portly 50-year-old manager

"Hello, Mr. Ferris," he said in a rather goofy-sounding opening line.

"Hello, Mr. McIntosh," his manager retorted. "Did you come to clean out your office?"

"Please, Mr. Ferris, I can explain," he said, and he tried to sound contrite.

"Just decide to take a longer holiday?" Mr. Ferris leaned back in his chair and regarded him critically.

"I got sick. And, I guess, I forgot to phone and tell anyone."

"How old are you, McIntosh? Ten?"

He felt a shiver of fear, almost as if the angry man had uncovered the real reason for his absence.

"No," he said meekly.

"That’s a very lame excuse," Mr. Ferris complained. "Too sick to pick up a phone?"

Shane tried to speak, but found himself choked up. His eyes blurred with unanticipated tears. "Do you have to be so mean?" He finally managed.

Mr. Ferris looked caught off guard. He cleared his throat.

"Look, you’re a good employee, most of the time," Mr. Ferris said. "But you’ve been off your game. Whatever’s going on, I expect you to get it out of your system."

He paused, and gazed at Shane. The younger man found himself looking down at the carpet. "Yes, Mr. Ferris."

"Very well," he said. "Get back to work."

With that dismissal, Shane walked all the way back to his own office, humiliated and frustrated that he hadn’t put up more fight.

He did need to preserve his job. He reasoned that the need to remain employed had caused him to get nervous and fearful around Mr. Ferris.

Of course, it didn’t help when, the entire time, he felt more like a 9-year-old boy getting a reprimand from the principal instead of a grown man in a one-sided dispute with his manager.

•••••

His week didn’t get much better, but he held on to two thoughts to help him weather it. He had made plans, yet again, to meet Robbie at the park for a quick wish.

And he still had his dinner date with Robbie’s dad for the next Monday, which he would enjoy as his adult self.

After another bad day at the office on Thursday, he sent an email to Robbie, inquiring if he, or rather his 9-year-old alter ego, might be welcome for another weekend.

Only moments later, a chime signaled a return email from Robbie, who was predictably excited about the chance to spend time with his friend.

Shane was smarter this time, and he phoned Robbie’s father once he had secured the go-ahead from Robbie.

"You’re not calling to cancel our date?" Steve asked playfully.

"No, nothing like that," Shane said quickly. "It’s just I am in charge of the kid again this weekend, but I really have some conflicts."

"We’d be glad to have him stay with us again," Steve said before Shane could even make his full pitch.

"Thanks, man," he said. "I’m sure he’ll appreciate it."

"No problem," Steve said. "And I can’t wait to see you next week."

"Same here," Shane said, letting a wide grin form on his face.

•••••

From the start, when he and Robbie had made their wishes and dropped their dimes into the well at the park, time had flown far too fast.

The highlight of the weekend had been when Steve took them to see one of the latest Disney animated flicks. Theater seats were much more comfortable for kids, especially since he didn’t have to scrunch his legs.

On the other hand, when a group of teenagers took seats in the row ahead of them, they were tall enough to interfere with Shane’s viewing of the movie.

Even that didn’t really bother him. Steve bought them popcorn, Milk Duds and large sodas. By the time the movie credits rolled, Shane’s bladder felt ready to burst.

He raced Robbie to the theater restrooms, and then had to dance from foot to foot, waiting anxiously for one of the urinals lined along the wall to become available.

He was a little embarrassed to unzip, but fortunately no one gave him the slightest attention. He finished his business and quickly tucked his tiny dick back into his tightie-whities and zipped up his pants.

Shane felt quite dejected when Monday afternoon arrived and his latest adventure in boyhood needed to come to a close.

"I even took an extra day off from work, and it still didn’t last long enough," he companied to Robbie as they got ready to walk to the park.

"I don’t see why you want to grow up," Robbie said. "You have more fun like this, don’t you?"

Shane, as he retrieved the backpack with his adult clothes from Robbie’s closet, had to admit that he enjoyed spending time as a boy.

"But I have a life," he said. He almost added, but wisely censored himself, that he had a dinner date with Robbie’s dad later in the evening. He still didn’t quite know how he was supposed to break the news to Robbie that he was interested in Steve.

Whenever he thought of Steve, he flashed back to that unexpected kiss and fondle. He went hard think about it.

"Whoa, boy," he whispered. "Gotta calm down."

"You got the dimes, right?" He called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I got them," Robbie assured him.

"Good." He adjusted his pants. "Let’s go."

Robbie talked excitedly of future plans during their walk to the park.

"So, you are gonna keep doing this every weekend, right Shane?"

"Uh, I don’t know about every weekend," Shane answered, thinking about that fishing trip Steve had promised him. The thought of spending an "adult" weekend with Steve warred with the gentler pleasures he got from being a kid again.

"Dad said we can go camping one weekend!" Robbie announced. "That will be so swell!"

"Yeah! That sounds so cool!" Shane agreed.

Although there were so many reasons not to get lured back, the idea of camping sounded more awesome than anything he could think of...

"We’ll roast marshmallows!" Robbie exclaimed. "Oh, and catch fireflies in a jar. We can light up the whole tent!"

Shane sighed. "Well, if I decide to make another wish, I guess we could do that."

"Oh, and this is one of my favorite things to do when camping, we can tell ghost stories!"

Shane felt the excitement starting to overwhelm his desire to go back to normal.... Even with the motivation of his scheduled date with Steve, he found himself almost reluctant to grow back to adulthood.

Well, he reasoned, it only had to be temporary. He could spend another week as an adult, then shrink himself back down into a boy’s body for a fun weekend camping adventure.

As Shane got closer, he noticed a bronze plaque on the stonework of the wishing well. The officials at city hall must have taken his historical lecture seriously.

The city government had officially recognized the wishing well as a landmark!

"That’s cool, I guess," he muttered as he read the plaque.

While he was reading, however, Robbie noticed something more important.

"Hey! They’ve covered up the well!" Robbie exclaimed.

"Nuh-uh!" Shane cried and raced toward his friend. He was all set to take Robbie to task. "Quit playing the joker!"

"It’s no joke," Robbie said in a soft voice.

Shane saw that the work crew had boarded up the well. The wooded lid securely fit against the stone walls.

"Oh no!"

He saw the construction workers over near a new slide and swing set that they had just placed in the playground.

"But they can’t…" Shane stammered.

The large men seemed to be finishing up for the day.

"HEY!" Shane yelled in his most indignant voice. "What happened to the well?!?"

"Well’s still there, kid," one of the big, burly men answered him.

His buddy laughed when he saw the look of distress evident in Shane’s boyish face.

"Yeah, city hall said they had a lot of complaints, so they decided not to knock it down."

Everything started to look even bigger. The construction workers looked like huge, scary monsters.

Shane planted himself in front of the two men, determined to get his answers. "But why did they cover it up?  They can’t do that!"

"To protect little kids like you two. They filled in the well and capped it."

"Now little shrimps can’t fall in," the other construction worker said.

Robbie arrived at his side. "Wait - WHAT!"

"They filled it in!" Shane exclaimed to Robbie.

"Yeah, and it took nearly a ton of old rock and earth."

Shane felt like a ton of rock and earth had settled in his gut all of a sudden.

Robbie sneaked up closer to him.

"But...but it was the actual well... we need the water."

The men shrugged and started walking away.

"But....but…" He wanted to call them back, tell them of the mistake they had made.

Shane felt the tears well up into his eyes, getting panicky at the thought that he’s stuck as a kid. Nine years old! A little boy, when he is supposed to be a grown man.

"Maybe it will work without the water."

Shane grasped at his friend’s childish optimism.

"Yeah, you’re right," he said, although that feeling was fading fast.

It received another punch to the guy when he ran to the boarded-up well.

"Let’s try it," he said.

He and Robbie let go of their dimes, but the coins landed with a dry thump on the wood lid.

"I wish Sean back to being a grown-up."

Robbie’s words faded away.

"I wish I was big again," he said futilely.

His words sounded faint and anguished. There was no magic, no twinge of impending change.

He kept standing there in disbelief.

"What am I gonna do, Robbie?"

Robbie sighed. "Well, you saved the well," he admitted with his spotty logic. "You just didn’t specify that they not fill it in."

Shane gazed at the transformed wishing well, still numb from the shock.

"You can always come back home with me."

The men are heading toward their trucks. Leaving Robbie, Shane chased toward them. They were settled in their truck, but the man rolled down the window.

"What now, kid?" The man asked gruffly.

"Please, you’ve got to put it back…"

The men roared in laughter.

"You’ll get over it, kid."

His friend started the engine, and the truck’s wheels spit gravel as they tore out of the parking lot.

"Oh shit," Shane cried with tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes. "What have I done?"

 

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