Original Son

Chapter 5
Part 5

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Chapter Description: A new ally.

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“I haven’t seen you in church before.” Matt struggled to make the sentence sound natural, but it still possessed the ring of a bad pick-up line.

“It’s Danielle.”

The young woman’s eyes darted from one end of the sanctuary to the other, avoiding direct contact with Matt’s. Though obviously unoccupied, she breathed in agitated sighs like a bored woman on a blind date. Noticing this, Matt tried to keep his speech brief and straightforward.

“I heard you talking to your mom,“ he began tentatively, “about being in college.”

“And?”

“Well, I overheard you arguing over your age,” Matt explained, his cheeks already glowing crimson. He couldn’t help pausing momentarily when Danielle drew back her bangs and her gorgeous brown eyes finally met his. Behind her long strands of highlighted hair was an unusually pretty face, dotted with dimples and growing more annoyed as Matt stammered.

“I just started college this year and it’s like she suddenly has amnesia,” Danielle complained, crossing her arms and turning away. “Now, it’s like I’m high school again and nothing has changed.”

“I know why,” Matt stated flatly.

“You do?”

“It’s the same reason all the parents here are acting strange. I know you’re not going to believe me right now, but trust me, if you stay here much longer you’ll understand.”

“Understand what?”

“As far as I can guess, it’s been affecting all the teenagers and younger kids, and some of the college students for weeks now,” Matt tried to delay spilling the awful, unbelievable truth as long as possible.

“What’s affecting them?”

“They’re getting younger. All of them.”

Danielle smirked at the goofy middle schooler playing a practical joke on her. “Right... getting younger. Well that makes sense,” she said with mock seriousness. “Everybody is actually turning into little kids again, is that it?”

“In so many words, yes.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that you’re in college too.” She uncrossed her arms only to cross them again.

“I’m eighteen,” Matt admitted reluctantly. “Well... I’m supposed to be eighteen.”

“Keep dreaming, kiddo,” Danielle laughed. “I’d say you have a few years to go. But look me up when you get there, ok cutie?”

“But it’s the truth...“

Clearly amused, she squeezed his shoulder and crouched to his height. “My mom may be acting all freaky, but let’s get one thing straight. No one here is getting younger, all right? Now you’ve had your fun, so maybe you should go find your mommy and stop playing around.”

“You don’t believe me now,” Matt spoke coldly and deliberately. “But if you keep coming to this church, it’s going to happen to you too.”

“Ooh, yes, I’m sure,” Danielle teased. “I’m going to wake up tomorrow a little girl, huh? Why don’t you try somebody your own age?”

“I’m not trying to pick up on you. I’m just warning you it’s going to get worse...“ Matt said, a moment before Patricia yanked him away.

“What are you doing?” his mother asked.

“Just talking, that’s all.”

“We’re going.”

“But Mom...“ Matt whined powerlessly as Patricia hauled him away toward the sanctuary entrance. “Can’t I just talk to someone?”

Patricia gave no reply. In her mind, the kissing episode meant Matt had forfeited his rights for the weekend, and that included socializing. But Matt had to wonder why his mother’s punishments seemed so harsh, worse, in fact, than when he had actually been eleven years old for real. Studying the attitudes of other church parents, he suddenly came to realize the obvious reason behind her frustration: Matt refused to grow down willingly like his peers.

“I’m signing you up for Vacation Bible School,” she informed him, as they lined up at a table in the foyer. “You need to make some more friends.”

“But I have a friend,” Matt protested, moments before he caught sight of a familiar chubby cheeked little girl in a yellow flower dress being led into the women’s bathroom. Candace?

“It’s right through here, honey,” Sharon said, holding the heavy door open for her daughter.

Keeping her eyes straight ahead, Patricia responded without a hint of irony. “I mean friends your own age.”

“But Candace...“

“Baby, you start middle school this year. Candace is still in the third grade, okay? You’ll be in separate groups at VBS,” Patricia explained offhandedly as they approached one of the eager, grinning volunteers. “Here we are.”

“Which group?” the jolly overweight church mom inquired, shuffling through a stack of multicolored forms.

“9 to 12 year olds, please,” Patricia said, still squeezing Matt’s hand.

“Okay, you’ll need to put your address here, along with the child’s name and whether or not you want lunch provided.”

While Patricia began thoroughly filling out the form, Matt watched as Candace emerged from the restroom with Sharon. He had not seen or heard from his best friend for nearly three days, and by the looks of her, she had already lost as many years. A pint-sized cupcake, Candace bore next to no resemblance to the girl Matt knew.

By chance their eyes met for a brief second and lingered until both were pulled in opposite directions by their parents. Did she even recognize me? Matt wondered.

“Time to go,” Patricia declared as she dotted the final “i” on the crowded sign-up sheet. “We have a few errands to run before we go home.”

Frozen in the backseat of the minivan, Matt spent the trip reflecting on Candace’s young face, the glimpse into his future... or was it his past? The less interference, he thought, the faster the years were swept away. Picturing his friend’s new wide-eyed innocence, Matt struggled to hold back a rumbling volcano in his stomach. In a week, maybe less, he could be staring at a kindergartner in the mirror. God knew what lay in store for Candace.

During a quick stop at the grocery, Matt remained in the van, only to feel his bowels sink again when his mother returned carrying three bags - one of which, Matt could see through the plastic, contained a box that read “Pampers” on the outside.

“Mom, did you just buy diapers?” Matt asked the instant his mother settled into the driver’s seat.

“Oh, those. They’re for a charity drive at the church,” she said, hesitating slightly with her answer.

But Matt no longer trusted a single word that escaped his mom’s lips, or anyone else’s for that matter. The clock was creeping backward and everyone was playing dumb, lying to their own children for the sake of recapturing a few stupid memories.

“I’m not... but I’m not...”

“What is it, honey?” Patricia said, pulling over to the shoulder. “Matthew, are you all right?”

“I’m...”

The sight of the diaper box, and his mother’s persistent pretend naivete, were pushing Matt to the breaking point mentally. Thinking of his own body, growing ever younger toward infancy, made his head spin. Images of Candace and himself as two squirming naked babies lying on the floor while their parents wiped their messy rears swirled around in his brain - so much so that Matt soon felt the sensation of vertigo, stopped responding, and blacked out.

When he awoke, he was greeted by his parents, both wearing concerned, open-mouthed expressions.

“He’s waking up,” Richard said hopefully, peering over his son.

“Can you hear us, honey?” Patricia repeated.

Swallowing hard, Matt pried his eyes open and regained his bearings.

“Am I still in the van?”

“Yes, you are. You were out for a minute or so. By the time I passed by the house on the way to the emergency room, you were waking up,” Patricia related, still breathing fast. “Do you feel okay?”

“I’m fine, I think,” Matt mumbled, as if waking from a confusing nightmare. “I got dizzy and... and...” Before he finished his sentence, he raised his arms and peered down apprehensively at himself. Relieved at the sight of his eleven-year-old body, Matt dropped his head back and sighed. “I just got dizzy.”

“Do you feel like you can walk inside?” his father asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Matt stuttered a little.

“You gave us quite a scare there,” Richard said, helping Matt out onto the driveway.

The rest of the day Matt stayed silent in his room, never daring to mention the true reason for his panic attack. It’s not as if anyone would believe him anyway, or even if they did, admit to knowing about the regression of New Life’s youth in the first place. Matt’s future seemed as blank as the ceiling that stared down at him as he sunk lower and lower into the mattress.

An eleven-year-old going on ten.

***

Vacation Bible School kicked off that Tuesday with a festive cookout for all the kids and their families, a chance for all to mingle. Though many of the children had already been introduced to each other at previous youth meetings and choir practices, their memories were often sketchy, meaning every event provided a chance to make new friends all over again. This happened regularly as the kids grew younger at different speeds; most former high school seniors currently came in around nine or ten, while others like Candace were well ahead, already approaching the first grade.

Patricia and Matt arrived around four o’clock, bearing a two liter of Sprite and some plastic cups.

“Just set those down with the rest over there.” Patricia motioned toward a traditional red and white picnic table.

“All right,” Matt agreed grudgingly. “Whatever you say...”

A familiar face welcomed Matt as he dumped the foodstuffs onto the table. She was dressed warmly for the occasion but still managed to radiate a certain sex appeal, something that was in short supply at New Life these days.

“Hey, little man,” Danielle said, pouring small amounts of Pepsi into a million little cups. “I wanted to talk to you for a sec.”

“You do?” Matt was surprised, considering the tone of their last exchange.

“Yeah, about what you said earlier. Go over behind those bushes and I’ll meet you there in a minute, okay?” Danielle feigned casual talk as she scanned the area for adults.

“Okay.”

Matt drifted toward the hedges as promised and waited until she finished preparing drinks. While not necessarily panicked, Danielle’s demeanor had certainly changed. Something had happened, what exactly Matt didn’t know, but now maybe she was ready to listen.

“What is it?” Matt asked, already anticipating the answer.

“Look, I still have no clue what’s going on here, but my mom keeps thinking I’m younger. Yesterday she asked if I had signed up for the PSAT, which is a test juniors usually take.”

“I know,” Matt interrupted. “I took it a year ago.”

“Umm yeah, well, that means my mom thinks I’m seventeen now, and...“ she paused briefly as if distracted by something. “Hey, you look younger than you did on Sunday.”

“Just noticed that, huh?” Matt shot back, an obvious glint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Oh my god, is this really happening?” she said suddenly, trying to keep her voice down. “No, it can’t. I’ve got to be imagining this.”

“Every day I wake up younger,” Matt spelled it out once more. “My best friend is sitting right over there. See her?”

“The one in blue?”

“No, the girl beside her, with the ponytail.”

“Your best friend? She can’t be any older than seven.”

“She’s supposed to be nineteen. They’ve turned her back into a little girl. They’re turning us all back into kids. Every one of us. Gradually. It started a couple weeks ago. Nobody knows about it but me.”

“Why just you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m fighting it the most, in my mind,” Matt proposed.

“Are you saying I’m getting younger too?” Danielle asked, slowly grasping the full implications of Matt’s words. “I don’t feel younger.” She reflexively glimpsed down at her ample chest.

“That’s just it. I don’t either, but it’s happening to us anyway. You think I feel like I’m ten years old?” Matt replied, shamefacedly surveying his own dwindling physique. “I think Pastor Leary is telling them to pretend that the changes are normal.”

A voice called out from behind them and cut the conversation off.

“Danielle, Danielle Foster?”

Danielle ducked down instinctively, as if suddenly undercover. “Oh, that’s me. They’re taking roll call for the VBS volunteers. I gotta go.”

“Okay,” Matt said. “It’s best if no one knows what we’re talking about.”

“All right then. Walk out with me,” Danielle instructed, grabbing Matt’s hand. The gesture took him somewhat by surprise.

“Oh, there you are,” Pastor Leary said, tapping the clipboard disapprovingly with his pencil. “We’re making sure all the youth counselors are accounted for.”

“I know. I was just showing one of the campers where the bathroom is,” Danielle explained calmly.

With a glare of suspicion in his eyes, Pastor Leary inspected them both for a second, then nodded his approval. While Danielle joined the counselors, Matt slunk off to the bustling playground area, where a legion of former teenagers climbed jungle gyms and launched into spontaneous games of tag. Ignoring warnings of cooler weather, some littler children arrived wearing only bathing suits or shorts. All of them playful and unconcerned.

Heading glumly toward an empty swing, Matt felt a warm body smack directly into his back, knocking him to the ground.

“Hey, watch it...“

“Sorry,” the boy said. “They were chasing me with a laser!”

“Got you!” another dirt-covered boy yelled as he caught up and aimed his plastic squirt gun.

Matt considered ripping into the reckless kid as he dusted himself off but stopped himself when he identified the buck-toothed culprits.

“Ryan? Nathan? Is that you guys?”

“Yeah, how’d you know my name?” one disheveled little roughhouser replied.

“We met a couple weeks ago. Don’t you remember? Youth Group?” Matt tried in vain to jog the feisty eight-year-old’s memory. “We stood up and introduced ourselves? You said you liked skateboarding...” He pointed at Ryan and then back at Nathan. “And you liked video games...”

“Nope,” Ryan answered quizzically. “Mom says I’m not old enough to take skateboarding lessons yet, but maybe next year. That would be cool.”

“Yeah,” Nathan agreed. “I like games, but my dad says they’re too violent.”

“Nevermind,” Matt mumbled. It was hopeless. New Life had successfully brainwashed all memories of their maturity from their heads, leaving them unwitting elementary school brats. Not wanting to repeat the incident in the van, Matt avoided any direct contact with Candace. Like Ryan and Nathan, she was too far gone. As far as anyone was concerned, “Candy” looked and acted the part of a normal little girl and Matt could hardly stand it.

Meanwhile, Danielle underwent the basic orientation for VBS; this year the event was themed “And a Child Shall Lead Them.”

Pastor Leary systematically ran through the rules and guidelines for dealing with the children, including suggestions on how to deal with homesick kids or sudden illness. Each day would begin with a prayer and short inspirational message, followed by various activities, lunch, and then a full-fledged service in the afternoon.

One rule in particular caught Danielle’s attention.

“Now, we trust you to take care of the kids and move about as needed, but we ask that you stay with your group and out of the conference room. If you need to go there for some reason, please grab one of the adult chaperones and we’ll open it up for you,” Pastor Leary directed. “Now, in your packets it should tell you which group you’ll accompany throughout the week.”

“Umm, Pastor Leary?” Danielle asked meekly, opening the manila envelope. “Could I maybe switch groups?”

“Why?”

“I’m listed with the preschool group, but I was wondering if I could go with the older kids,” she suggested. “You know, if that’s all right.”

“Already made a friend?” Leary questioned.

“No, I’d just be more comfortable.”

“I suppose that can be arranged. You’re wanting the 9 through 12 group?”

“If possible, I’d like that,” Danielle said, trying to conceal the nerves that had crept up after she talked with Matt. If his story turned out to be true, Pastor Leary and the rest of the parents would appear to be conspirators in some sort of strange divine plot. Silently vowing to unearth the cause behind Matt’s circumstance before she found herself joining the campers, Danielle decided to investigate every room in the church and alert the authorities.

In the meantime, she would stay in contact with Matt as one of his youth counselors.

***

Arriving home, Matt slogged up the stairs without even touching his dinner, only to find his room had been renovated without his consent. His corner desk and computer had vanished. In their place sat a bright blue dresser drawer, and hanging above it, an old Power Rangers poster that had been rolled up in the attic since 1994.

“Who changed my room?” Matt demanded, dipping his head below the railing at the top of the stairs.

“Your father wanted to surprise you when you got home,” Patricia yelled, scrubbing the night’s dishes. “Do you like it?”

“What happened to my computer?”

“You can use the one downstairs, okay honey? We just like to keep an eye on it since there’s so much trash on there,” Patricia clarified.

Marvelous Matt thought. Now I can’t even get on the net without parental supervision. There went his digital porn collection.

Back in his room, he discovered his library of liberal books had been replaced with family friendly titles. Once populated with Nietzsche, George Carlin, and Noam Chomsky, the bookcase now housed Christian apologetics books for kids and the complete Chronicles of Narnia. Not exactly subtle, are we? Matt mused to himself. His parents had never excelled at propaganda.

That night Matt’s already feverish dreams took an almost demonic turn.

In them, he found himself peeking out from a cracked door into the New Life sanctuary, but what he witnessed was not a church service. The walls were lined with billowing red curtains that swayed back and forth in unison, creating the illusion that the sanctuary itself was alive and breathing. An organist played what sounded like a backwards hymn. As the chords flowed cacophonously into one another, Pastor Leary appeared at the pulpit in a dark, vampiric robe and announced that the “first virgin” would come forward.

Flanked by two masked men, a young woman in her late twenties stepped rhythmically and methodically toward the altar, like a bride advancing down the aisle. She carried a crying infant, whose wails ricocheted throughout the sanctuary.

“Come closer, my child,” the pastor said. “Tonight your son will be truly born again...”

The alarm clock once again rescued Matt from the nightmare, but not from reality.

The fantastic scenarios had an uncanny way of matching up with the future. In each dream, the victims grew younger and younger. Now the nightmares were approaching their logical conclusion... rebirth. Matt was left shaken and huddling under his covers like a little boy afraid of the monster under his bed. Might the regression not end when they became newborns? Did God want him back in the womb? The question sent him into cold sweats.

That morning, a nearly nine-year-old Matt ate his Captain Crunch in silence, refusing to speak a word to anyone.

***

Danielle’s mind was also becoming increasingly one track as time wore on. By Wednesday, small alterations to her figure began to manifest themselves. Her height, most notably, had dropped an inch and a half in the last twenty-four hours. (She had taken to measuring herself.) Using the morning shower as a chance to assess any changes in her body, Danielle steadily grew more alarmed. The Mad Hatter tattoo on her waist, a souvenir from spring break in Florida last summer, seemed slightly smaller and misshapen, as if her hips had narrowed overnight.

A noisy knock came at the bathroom door. “Danielle? How much longer will you be, dear? We need to be at the church by nine,” her mother advised.

“Not much longer, Mom.”

As Danielle toweled off, she stared down repetitively at her breasts, evaluating and reevaluating them like an art critic judging every angle of a sculpture. For the time being, any differences were too slight to discern, but that did little to quiet Danielle’s fears.

Already the changes were underway.

When they reached the church, the morning prayer had already concluded and the kids were headed off in single file lines toward their individual group activities. The crowded hallways made for some commotion, as volunteers wove through the talkative youngsters like shepherds through a flock. Not surprisingly, a crying sound arose when a young girl was pushed and found herself on her hands and knees.

Only feet away, Matt instinctively rushed to help the red-faced girl.

“It hurts,” she moaned, clutching a lightly skinned knee. “The floor is stupid!”

It took Matt a moment to place her voice. High-pitched but still containing that touch of cynicism he would recognize any day.

“Candace?” he asked with wide, sympathetic eyes.

With a neat row of baby teeth to match her fattened cheeks, she couldn’t be more than six years old now, even younger than when they’d first met.

“Thank you,” she said, holding onto his arm as he lifted her up.

“Are you okay?”

“I need a band-aid,” she whimpered. “My mommy always puts band-aids on.”

Memories of the old Candace clashed with the adorable innocent clinging to his side. Once again, he felt the funny urge to hug and comfort her. Almost like a protective big brother. By now, he just wanted the whole thing to end, for whomever or whatever was taking away the years to leave her alone.

“Matt,” another familiar voice summoned him. “Matt?”

Looking up, he was glad to see Danielle sprinting down the hall from the cafeteria.

“Is she hurt?”

“Someone pushed her,” Matt said. “Scraped her knee, I think.”

“We better get you to the front office. They keep the first aid box there.” Danielle took Candace’s hand, then Matt’s, and started leading them back toward the sanctuary. “Just play cool, okay?”

He obliged. Candace seemed so helpless now. Standing head and shoulders above his best friend, Matt felt like her only true guardian. Her parents had abandoned her to a second childhood, another round of kindergarten, learning the alphabet, and God knew what else. Now he was charged with the duty of keeping her memory alive.

“Do you remember me?” Matt asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“You know her?” Danielle asked.

“This is Candace, the girl I pointed out yesterday.”

“She looks so different.”

“I look what?” Candace inquired, puzzled.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” Matt told her, flushed with embarrassment at the thought of being paraded down the hall like a little boy with a tummy ache. “Danielle will fix you up.”

Once inside the office, Danielle closed the door discreetly and did a quick check to make sure they were alone. Satisfied, she unlocked the first aid kit and pulled up a chair.

“Matt, I think it’s happening to me,” Danielle confided, ignoring the girl she was bandaging at the moment. “It’s really hard to tell, but there are little things, here and there. Does it happen this fast?”

“I’m not surprised. They seem to be growing more efficient at it. We were the guinea pigs,” Matt conjectured as he floated around the room like a detective.

“Whatcha talking about?” Candace piped up.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah, it’s grown up stuff,” Matt said, suddenly realizing how childish that sounded. His tendency to speak in ten-year-old words and phrases was becoming more pronounced. As if being fifth grader again weren’t punishment enough, now his vocabulary was progressively shrinking.

Also, he found his eyes habitually returning to Danielle’s chest. While the teenager in him already knew about breasts, how they looked and felt, at his new age they held a truly mysterious allure. What am I doing? he asked himself. I’ve had sex before. It’s no big deal.

“You still have some time,” Matt encouraged her. “Maybe you’ll find some little piece of evidence someone will believe.”

“But you’re the only one I can trust,” Danielle mourned. “Everyone else is living in a dream world. I mean, why is it just us?”

Despite the stress, Matt perked up fleetingly when he heard the words “just us.” He couldn’t be certain whether it was the coincidental occurrences that brought them together or his necessarily shorter view, but he could feel himself developing a crush. She was gorgeous, after all, perhaps more so under pressure.

“I’m going to sneak away this afternoon during the service and see what I can find,” Danielle mapped out her strategy. “Pastor Leary mentioned the conference room being off limits. Maybe nothing, but I’m going to find a way in.”

“You guys are weird,” Candace pouted. “I wanna go play now.”

“Just a second, honey,” Danielle continued. “I’ll catch up with you after arts and crafts hour, okay?”

“All right. Be careful,” Matt cautioned.

“I will,” Danielle said, helping little Candace up from her chair.

After Matt accompanied his shrunken partner back to the gym, where the kindergartners busily played with a giant parachute on loan from the local elementary school, he located his group outside. For the rest of the morning, whenever he and Danielle interacted, she would wink or nod, always keeping tabs on his mental state. Neither wanted to lose the other and be left alone.

By afternoon, some of the children’s clothes hung loosely on their frames, a problem remedied by extra clothes that parents often supplied in case the changes came more rapidly. Luckily, Matt’s slowed regression saved him the impropriety of overly baggy attire. Once the worship service rolled around, Matt felt nearly anesthetized by the litany of youth games, art projects, drama presentations, and calls to prayer. It all became one big incomprehensible, humiliating blur from start to finish.

Just as promised, Danielle disappeared quietly from proceedings around 3:15, affording her just less than a half hour to scout the church for any leads. Seeing her departure, Matt crossed his fingers. She’s got to find something.

After Pastor Leary’s short message to the children for the day (a typically happy New Testament tale plucked expertly out of context), he motioned to one of the volunteers, who leaned over as he cupped his hand over his mouth.

“These are the 9 through 12’s, right?”

“Yes, they are.”

Moments later, the service ended and the kids once again flowed chaotically back into the hallways. Pastor Leary was heard asking one of the parents, “There’s a teen counselor. Danielle Foster. We reassigned her to this group, but I don’t see her...”

Inadvertently within earshot, Candace waddled over and tugged on Pastor Leary’s pantleg. “Mister Leary?”

“Yes, what is it?” he said, smiling and raising his voice to match hers.

“She said she’s going to look around the church,” Candace offered politely.

“You mean Danielle?”

“Uh huh,” she replied. “She fixed my knee.”

“Well, thank you very much for your help, young lady,” Pastor Leary sang, patting her on the head. “We should go look for her, don’t you think?"

 

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