Ostinato

Chapter 4

Theodore got to his feet, making his way to the stairs.

"Theo, where are you going?" Mom called after him, completely oblivious to his feelings.

"I'm going to take a shower!" he yipped, desperate to get out of there. He heard a few titters from the crowd, mixed in with a couple of adoring coos, quickly running up the stairs and into the safety of the bathroom.

The boy soon found that showering in his new form was...interesting to say the least. Looking his pre-freshman frame over in the mirror that morning had been one thing, but this task required getting acquainted with it in a much more intimate way. Cringing at the feeling of his graceless spindly legs only just starting to sprout with thin pale blond hair, narrow shoulders dotted with the occasional angry red acne spot, and the greasy reservoirs of oil stored behind his ears, Theodore washed up as quickly as he could - only remaining under the water long enough to efficiently scrub away his supposed stench from each every odor-oozing adolescent nook and cranny.

He didn't really smell, did he? Theodore's first early adolescent years had indeed been marked by a persistent personal hygiene problem, something his bullies at Holyoke never ceased to torment him with, but he'd long since cured that oversight with a regular program of antiperspirant and a subtle sophisticated cologne. Mom had tried to soften the blow with the comment about his "accident", but it was clear that in this new reality he wasn't quite so diligent - more interested in Pokemon than perfume. The gift was clearly a necessary one.

Finishing up, Theo stepped out of the shower, quickly wrapping himself in a large fluffy white towel. He hurried quickly back to the guest bedroom, locking the door behind him. He sat on the bed for a long time and stared at the force field shimmering in the window, pondering his predicament. His uncle's tech experiments must have surely been the culprit, but could any technology really have such power? It was as if Theo had found himself in an entirely separate reality - one where he was and always had been exactly four years younger. His body was different, his clothes were different, his relatives even seemed to have an entirely fresh set of memories tailor made for his new humiliatingly diminished status. It was like he'd fallen into a parallel universe!

Lying back on the bed, Theo picked up the fox stuffie, holding it close for comfort. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, as if he might burst into tears at any moment. A niggling part of his brain told him he was being ridiculous, that he was allowing himself to fall susceptible to the cocktail of confusing volatile hormones freshly zipping through his fourteen-year-old system, that he needed to focus on finding a solution! But no. He had good reason to be upset. He had good reason to be devastated! For four years he'd slogged through that hell hole of a school, knowing that at the end of it he'd be free to cut himself loose and live life on his own terms. Now he was facing another four year sentence. Parole denied.

Slowly drip-drying laid out on the bed like a lifeless corpse receiving mourners at a funeral, Theo listened to the party die down and the front door opening and closing repeatedly as the guests left one by one. Eventually, the boy found the energy to wander once more into the land of the living, finding a fresh pair of red sweatpants and a matching hoodie to pull on over his damp hair. There was no use sulking like a real irrational overwrought fourteen year old. He needed to take action!

If there was one place Theo might find answers, it was his Uncle Rob's computer. If he really was suffering the side effects of some bizarre new tech product - or, even worse, a deliberate plot to rob him of his adulthood - then the kid may yet find an explanation in his Uncle's cache of confusing code and experimental software. If he was really lucky, he might even find a hint of how to reverse things.

Reinvigorated by the possibility, Theo sprinted down the hallway - his bare feet slapping noisily against the wooden floorboards. Hurrying hopefully through the open door however, he was frustrated to see someone already seated at his uncle's vast mahogany desk, Charlie sitting cross legged in the large leather executive office chair. He acknowledged Theo with a brief smile before instantly turning his attention back to the computer, seemingly occupied clicking through different wallpaper designs in a game of The Sims.