Ostinato

Chapter 6

Sunday June 8th: 8:06

"Teddy..." Charlie's gentle voice coaxed, shaking him awake by the shoulders. "Teddy! It's time to get up!"

Theodore blearily opened his eyes, his little brother's smiling face slowly coming into focus. He frowned, vaguely remembering the events of the previous night. A wave of regret came over him like a tsunami as he remembered each embarrassing emotional outburst, his contrition only compounded by the genuine brotherly look of adoration on Charlie's face. It certainly didn't seem like he was holding a grudge. The bitter hormone-fueled envy that had fuelled Theodore before now seemed entirely alien to the boy, as if all the angst and rancor had been drained out of him overnight. Why had he been so angry? And why had he pulled that awful prank? And why had he said all those terrible things?

He let out a moan, a little surprised by the childish treble tone of his voice. Blinking, he sat up in his bed, looking around in confusion at the guest room. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was definitely off. Suddenly struck with a strange unbidden sense of fear, he brought his small spindly arms up around to hug his own chest, surprised to find the fox stuffie nestled snugly in his lap.

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked in concern, going right ahead and putting a hand up against his forehead as if to check his temperature. "You're acting kinda weird."

"I'm not weird..." Theodore objected, cringing again at the sickly sweet syrupy pitch with which he'd spoken. Feeling like he'd got something stuck in his throat, he coughed, holding up a small pudgy hand to his smooth girlish throat. He shifted where he sat, a cacophony of strange sensations overwhelming his senses. Why was Charlie looking at him like that? And what was that strange feeling between his legs? And why was everything so...big?

As he stared towards the large full length mirror on the door, the inescapable conclusion hit him like a freight train. There were his bright watery blue eyes, framed between a round apple red cheeks and a pudgy pug nose - staring gormlessly at his brother. There was his curly mop of hair, now entirely blond, styled adorably into messy caramel tufts. There was his stripey blue and white button-up pajama top, wrinkled and disheveled from his restless tossing and turning throughout the night. There was no denying it. He'd gotten younger again. Much younger - his new body no more than five or six years old.

"You're not sick are you?" Charlie continued. "Mom'll be pretty disappointed if we can't go to the ceremony."

Theodore was taken aback, the mention of a ceremony throwing him for a loop. "Wh-what day is it?" he squeaked.

"Sunday." Charlie answered. "But we've got to go to your school, remember? For the graduation?"

Graduation? Theodore snapped his head around to look at the alarm clock, the digital display in the corner confirming that it was indeed Sunday the 8th of June - just like it had been yesterday. But surely that was impossible? Then again, he'd thought getting younger was impossible too.

"I have to talk to Mom!" the boy demanded, scrambling out of bed.

He felt a cold air brush against his little legs as he crawled out from under his covers, letting out an embarrassed squeak at the sight of the thick crinkly pair of Goodnites strapped around his waist. Even worse, they seemed to be wet, a vague yellow stain and a slight sag clearly communicating his nocturnal accident to his now big brother. Whatever strange technology was causing Theodore's regressions, it had got the details perfect - right down to the smallest humiliation. Theo really had wet the bed up to the age of seven. Of course, the first time around, he'd gotten over it before his little brother had arrived on the scene. Completely humiliated by the exposure, Theodore froze still under Charlie's gaze, certain he would make fun of him.