Happy Days

Chapter 1
Expectations

Chapter Description: Dan contemplates his new life and prepares for some big changes still to come. Physical Regression only in this chapter.

Again the setting is New Zealand, but this time rural NZ. NZ terms: the Warehouse=Walmart, Kumara=NZ sweet potato. ’Wh’ is pronounced ’F’ so Whakatane=Fah-Ka-Tah-Nae.

Things never work out the way you think they will. When I was growing up I always imagined myself leaving this isolated country, going to Europe or America and making lots of money doing some important job. I thought maybe I could be a lawyer, I loved to talk. Or maybe a chef, I liked to eat. But when I pictured my life as a grown-up I was always single, far away and happy. But of course things got in the way. The older I got the more snags and hold-ups there were and the outside world seemed to get farther away rather than closer. It turned out a university qualification in history which was supposed to prepare me for anything, actually qualified me for nothing. Well, except maybe teaching, but I couldn’t stand kids, so that was out.

Next thing I know I’m thirty-two years old, I’m married with two kids and I’m still living here in New Zealand. And what do I do for a living? Do I argue cases before the courts? No. Do I write books that every bookshop wants to sell? No. I sell used Japanese cars imported by the shipload to fill the Kiwi need for cheap, easily repairable cars. I live in a little town called Whakatane surrounded by sheep stations and Kiwifruit orchards, and I hate it. Tourists flock here by the busload to see the ends of the earth, literally. We live at 179 degrees east, on the edge of the world, and it shows.

When someone’s life goes downhill they never really notice till it too late because it always happens in little bits, one step at a time. But when all I had to look forward to after leaving my useless job was sitting in front of the telly watching Sky TV and drinkng a Speight’s Beer, I knew that something had to be done. Maybe that’s why I volunteered for the study. Maybe it was secret death wish, a yearning for anything out of the ordinary to happen to me. Well if that’s what I really wanted, I sure got it. But was I ever mistaken. In retrospect, my life hadn’t really been that bad, boring yes but better than most of the six billion souls crammed on this planet. But I never thought about that at the time and its too late now.

These days I would like nothing more than to go in to the dealership and do some paperwork, sell some dumb farmer a Honda. I wish I could drink a cool Speight’s while I watched the telly. There’s nothing like a cool beer in the afternoon. But I can’t do any of those things, because I now have the body of a four-year old boy. In fact all I can really do is sit at home and watch TV. My wife, Liz, had to go up to full-time at the Warehouse to keep us in our house. The researchers at the study had all been very apologetic but there was no compensation, I had signed a waiver and New Zealand law doesn’t allow injury lawsuits. We recieved a regular cheque from ACC, the government’s short-term disability and worker’s comp agency, but soon I would have to apply for long-term social security disability pay. It was a humiliating process, being looked at as a curiosity by dozens of prying eyes. But there were so many other new difficulties.

I was now smaller than both my kids. Dave was ten, soon to be eleven, and Emily was six. It was crushingly embarassing to be smaller than my own little girl. It had been hard enough to dicipline them before, but now it was absolutely impossible and I found myself having to constantly appeal to Liz, sounding like nothing more than a petulant preschooler crying for his mummy. Outside of the house it was hard to know which was worse, the pitying looks given to me by the few who knew my condition or the condescending smiles and comments by people who thought I was actually four. Looking in the mirror I had to admit I was pretty cute with my lightly freckled cheeks, straw-coloured hair and chubby little fingers and toes. But when other adults leaned over and patted my head and talked to Liz as though I couldn’t understand, I felt like a pet, a cute little kitty to be admired and doted on. Otherwise no one paid me the slightest attention, I was a non-person now.

If dealing with fellow adults was bad, dealing with real kids was much, much worse. Dave was usually friendly but clearly felt very awkward about the situation. As a credit to his character, he never took advantage of me or bullied me and he even did his best not to pity me. But Emily was younger and didn’t really understand what had happened, not that I even really understand either. But she just got excited to have a little baby to play with like one of her dolls. It could be exasperating dealing with her. On the rare occasions I accompanied Liz to the market I had been shoved, yelled at and laughed at by other small children. Kids could be very cruel. Now Liz was trying to convince me to spend the days at a kindy down the road because the kids were now back in school and I had trouble getting the fridge door open and food out when I was alone all day. She was worried I’d have an accident. At least that’s what she said. I know what she really feels is that I’m too isolated. She wants me to try and adjust and make friends with other little kids! How thick can she be? That would not only be inappropriate as I am still in fact a grown man, but it would be impossible as I can’t relate to other four-year olds. But Liz seemed increasingly set on sending me to kindy.

It was nearly three, the kids would be home soon. I decided to enjoy my last few minutes of solitude for the day. I found a bottle of ginger beer in the cubbard and decided that if I imagined really hard I might be able to feel like I was having a real beer again. It was hard to get the top off with my chubby short fingers. I had lost a good deal of my fine motor skills in the regression, I imagined if I ever rode a bike I might now need training wheels. Finally it popped with a fizz and fine grey smoke rose from the fresh ginger beer. Sitting back on the couch watching Rugby Wrap-up I sipped the ginger fizzy drink. It was horrible, the ginger was too strong for my young taste buds and I barely managed to swallow. My mouth and throat burned terribly. I noticed had dripped some of the brown drink on my T-shirt, staining Grover’s head. It didn’t matter. I had trouble keeping all my food in my mouth now and the Sesame Street shirt already had several stains on it. Why Liz insisted on buying these infantile shirts I don’t know, but it was a major sore spot between us. As a man I had enjoyed sometimes taking off my shirt and exposing my well-built chest for Liz to admire. Now though I always kept my shirt and shorts on. I had no muscles left to show off, just a tubby toddler tummy and flabby arms. As I stood up I checked the length of my camoflauge cargo shorts. They still fell a few centimetres below my knee. I was still obsessed with the fear that I would begin to shrink again, even though two months had passed since I stopped. I poured the remaining ginger beer down the drain and threw the bottle in the rubbish. The kids would be home any minute and I didn’t want them seeing me having a fizzy drink before dinner or I’d never hear the end of it. Before I could have just told them I could do it because I was a grown-up, but that argument no longer worked. It was best just to hide it.

I heard the sound of the bus stopping at he end of the drive and the sounds of children yelling their goodbyes. Looking out the window on my tippy-toes I could see Dave and Emily getting off the bus in their bright red school shirts and black shorts. It always got to me that they went to the only Primary school in the area that had a uniform, because those things were expensive. Dave and Emily raced up the gravel driveway their bare feet crunching on the flint stones. I had to shake my head. Every morning I made sure Liz had them in their sandals and every afternoon, without fail they came home barefoot. I was spending hard earned money for sandals and trainers that never got used. But Liz never punished them for it, she just shook her head and shrugged and now I was in no position to do anything either. What could I do? I was powerless in my own home.

"Hi Daddy!" Emily squealed as she ran in the door, dropping her book-bag right in the middle of the floor and skipping over to the TV. "Never mind that you could trip someone that way, eh? Emily get back here and pick up your bag! We don’t just drop things anywhere in this home."

Emily hardly listened to me. She just frowned and told me, "Later. My show’s on now, I’m missin’ it." She returned to the TV, totally ignoring me. Dave walked in sandals in hand, looking a bit sheepish as he put his bag and then Emily’s in the closet. "Sorry Dad, I’ll talk to her." Dave was a bit tall for his age anyway, but right now he looked almost like an adult to me. "Thanks Dave, but it isn’t your job to pick up after your sister or to discipline her. That’s.... that’s your mum’s job." I had almost said it was my job, but of course it wasn’t anymore. I considered asking Dave why he couldn’t keep his sandals on, but I knew the result. He’d just say he didn’t like shoes and there’d be nothing I could do to make him put them on, I just ended up looking more impotent. Instead I asked him to get his sister a snack. I was feeling tired again and yawned.

"Do ya need a nap daddy? ’Cause I can get you your jammies." Emily offered, as though I was incapable of getting my own clothes.

"No dear, Daddy is fine, just watch your show."

Emily frowned again, her show forgotten, "If you aren’t sleepy how ’bout we play. We could have tea party like we used to, ’cept now you can sit at the table too."

"No Emily, we’ve been over this before, no tea parties, no playing, I am still Daddy. Now be a good girl and watch tv and Dave will get you a snack soon."

I went to my bedroom again, upset at how silly my squeaky high voice sounded when I tried to be stern. Liz arrived home later on and went straight to work on dinner. Soon she was calling, "Dan, come on down here, its supper time!" Something about the way she called me for dinner always irked me a bit. "Be right down!" I replied nonetheless.

Dinner was chicken breast and kumara. Liz had cut my breast up into little peiced because I couldn’t use a fork and knife right. It would have been so much easier to use my fingers but I wasn’t about to do that. I did my best to manipulate the fork and ate my chicken a peice at a time. Dave had changed into his Billabong T-shirt and board shorts for dinner, Emily was still in her uniform. No one talked during dinner, it was a family rule that we waited till everyone had eaten before talking. Then Emily launched into a detailed story about a dinosaur she had heard at school that day while Dave played with his remaining food. I just looked in to Liz’s eyes and tried to gauge what was on her mind, she seemed preoccupied. When Emily finished her story Liz looked at me strangely as though uncertain of somehing. Then she said, "Look Dan, I know you don’t want to hear this. In fact I know you’ll be very upset by this. But the fact of the matter is you can’t just spend the rest of your days sitting alone in the house watching the TV. So starting tomorrow I’ve enrolled you at Early Start Kindy. I’ll drop you off right after the kids are on their bus and I’ll pick you up after work. I don’t want an argument, I want you to give it a try that’s all. Just for a few days to seehow it is."

I was livid. She had absolutely betrayed my trust by having me enrolled without talking to me. I picked my words carefully but before I could even start Liz cut me off.

"Look Dan, you just stop right there, I don’t want to hear a peep out of you. You volunteered for that research project. Now I have to work full-time and be a mother, I have to take care of you and pay all the bills. You might as well have just left us..."

"Now just wait a minute Liz. Volunteered! I never volunteered for this!"

"You took a risk, the same as if you road round on a motorcycle with no helmet, either way you’re disabled and here we are."

"It was a study on stopping free radicals from causing cell degeneration to help people live longer, tis was not one of the possible sideeffects the warned us about! Do you think I would have agreed if..."

"I don’t know Dan! Maybe this is exactly what you wanted. No more boring job, no kids to watch after, no more wife!" And with that Liz burst into tears and picked up her plate, storming out into the kitchen.

I was dumbfounded. I hadn’t meant to upset Liz that way, I really hadn’t known she felt like that. I guess I have been a fool. Well a few days at a daycare can’t be so bad. I’ll just make her realize it can’t work and there’ll be no more mention of it. Normally I slept next to Liz in our bed, but tonight it was the couch for me. In the morning I would have to face a very hard day so I went to sleep at 8PM trying not to think about what was to come.