Chapter Four

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.

“Are you almost done?” Theo asked impatiently, rolling his eyes at the asinine activity Charlie had chosen to occupy his screen time.

“I only just started!” Charlie objected, not even looking away from the screen. “You can watch me if you want,” he offered nonetheless. “I made a Sim of you already. He’s a teenager.”

“I’ve got something important to do!” Theo snapped. “I don’t have time to play dollhouses.”

“It’s not dollhouses.” Charlie denied, sounding a little offended. “They have jobs and everything. And you can design the whole-”

“I don’t care.” Theo interrupted, walking up and going right ahead trying to wrestle the mouse from Charlie’s grip.

“Let go!” Charlie whined, fighting back with a vengeance. Prior to his regression, it would have been an easy task for Theo to overcome the ten-year-old, but even though there was still a good four years between them Charlie now seemed capable of at least a token resistance. “It’s. My. Turn!” he grunted in frustration, clinging to the mouse like a cat with its prey even as Theo attempted to dethrone him from the coveted computer seat and take it for himself.

“What’s going on here?” Uncle Rob interrupted, suddenly appearing in the door frame. His eyebrows were furrowed in disapproval, far from pleased to find his two nephews wrestling rambunctiously atop his expensive office chair. “Boys?”

“Theo’s picking on me - even though it’s my turn!” Charlie objected in a whine.

“No I’m not!” Theo defended himself, sounding just as whiny. “He’s hogging the computer!”

Uncle Rob tutted. “Theo, I told Charlie he could play his game on my computer. Did you even ask me?”

Theo’s cheeks went red, realizing how readily he resorted to the kind of whiny entitled moaning not even becoming a kid half his real age. “No…” he admitted. “But can I?” he quickly begged. “I’ve got an um…computer science project.” he came up with quickly. “For this competition.”

“Maybe when Charlie's done.” Uncle Rob mediated. “Or tomorrow morning.” He pointed out the door, showing Theo an uncharacteristically stern expression. “Why don’t you go play with your cousins? I know Ewan’s been keen to talk to you all day.”

The boy gave an appropriately teenaged sigh. “Fine…” he moaned, stomping out the door.

Theodore walked down the hall towards his own room in an absolutely foul mood, the incident a stark reminder that at this age he was under his Mother and his Uncle's authority.

“Theo,” the tiny voice of Luke called out as Theodore passed by the younger boy's open door. The boy sat upon his carpet dressed in a small fireman's coat and hard hat with a toy firetruck clasped in his hands. Luke got up eagerly, scurrying up to Theodore standing in the doorway. “Want to play fireman with me?” Luke asked, his eyes growing big and saucer-like in excitement at the prospect of finding a playmate.

“No.” Theodore replied curtly, which caused Luke's face to fall a little.

“P-please,” Luke whimpered a little as he held the firetruck in his hands out towards Theodore. “I'll even let ya be the driver - since you're older,” Luke said, offering up what in his mind had to be the most envious position in his little game.

Theodore was not above feeling just a tinge of empathy for his younger cousin. He even considered humoring the younger boy to pass the time until Charlie finally decided to vacate the computer. But no.

“Sorry buddy, not right now,” Theodore said. Whatever small amount of guilt Theodore felt at dashing his little cousin's hopes was not enough to actually sway him into agreeing. Theodore walked off quickly. In his mind he had tried to let his cousin down gently, yet he wasn't going to stick around lest his guilty conscience grow to the point where he would actually give in.

Theodore got back to his room, flopping down onto his bed with his arms and legs splayed out. He felt so helpless at the moment. Here he was, going through the worst thing that has ever happened to him in his life, and the one thing he could do to try and fix it was now out of his grasp. And it was all Charlie's fault! But what was different about that? It seemed everything bad in Theodore's life was inextricably linked back to Charlie.

“There you are,” Ewan said, interrupting Theodore's private pity party as he stepped into the room, his game console in his hand as he sat on Charlie's bed across from Theodore. “Are you ready to play now or what?”

“Just go away,” Theodore muttered, rolling over to show his back to Ewan.

“What is up with you?” Ewan said. “I overheard my Dad giving you the business. Is that what's bothering you?”

“I don't care about that,” Theodore yelped, sitting up with a scowl . “I need to get on the computer, but Charlie is playing his stupid little game.” Theodore grumbled bitterly, relishing the opportunity to vent about his little brother to the one person who wouldn't turn it around on Theodore and chide him to be nicer to Charlie.

“Oh yeah, he's always playing that game. It's totally for little kids and girls, Jessica plays it with Luke all the time.” Ewan snorted. Theodore decided not to point out that most people would probably view the Sims as far more mature than the Pokemon game currently displayed on the screen of Ewan's own handheld.

“The only fun part of that game is when you trap people with the walls,” Ewan said. “But I mean only for like five minutes,” He added quickly.

“Pffft,” Theodore exhaled as he laid back onto the bed. “He probably has me trapped in some walls right now.” hemused, imagining his tiny virtual avatar's cries of desperation falling upon deaf ears.

“Reminds me of Luke's playpen.” Ewan snickered as he clicked away at the buttons on his own game.

“Luke has a playpen?” Theodore asked, lifting his head in curiosity. Even as young as Luke was compared to the two of them, a playpen seemed infantile even for him.

“Well not really,” Ewan clarified. “It was just some new tech that my Dad was developing for their line of toddler applications. He sometimes makes Luke test them out for him - he calls it a stress test.”

Ewan looked over to the fox stuffie sitting on the bed next to him and picked it up, placing it atop a dresser. “It's like this,” Ewan said, picking up the control tablet for the room from the bedside table, deciding a demonstration was in order. He tapped away on the touchscreen for a moment before looking at Theodore. “Go ahead, try to get it,” Ewan instructed.

Theodore got up and tried to grab the fox from its place, but found his hand was stopped by what felt like the same invisible obstacle he’d felt before. Theodore tried to exert more force, but found the invisible barrier too strong. He pulled back his hand and delivered a swift blow, trying to punch through it. He let out a loud yelp of frustration, feeling strangely jealous at the thought that the toy now belonged to Charlie.
“Try to go slow,” Ewan interrupted. Theodore moved his hand slowly towards the fox and found that he was easily able to bypass the invisible barrier as he grasped the fox. He snuggled it against his chest, his frustration dissipating.

“I can even up the intensity, since it's still in the experimental phase,” Ewan said, plucking the fox out of Theodore's hand and placing it back atop the dresser. Theodore felt a momentary flare of adolescent rage, but suppressed it. “Alright, try again.” Ewan instructed. This time, Theodore found that he had to move his hand at a snail's pace to get the fox.

“It's kind of cool I guess,” Theodore said as he removed his hand, leaving the fox inside of the invisible barrier. “I can see how it would be useful for keeping a little kid contained, or like keeping something out of their reach.”

“That gives me an idea,” Ewan said as a devious look spread across his face.
***

“I don't really know.” Theodore said once Ewan had explained his plan in full, feeling that it might be a little too mean.

“Oh come on, it's time for little Charlie to grow up a little! I mean, what ten year old still sleeps with a stuffed animal? If anything we'll be helping him.”

“I don't think my Mom or your Dad would see it that way.” Theodore said skeptically.

“It's not like we won't give it back to him. It's just a little prank. You know, for fun,” Ewan compromised.

Shoot down the idea
Agree to the prank