Happy Birthday Blues (Chapter 1) (Patreon)

Ted Barnes considered himself to be a reasonable, rational person, or at least he did prior to this moment. He’d grown up in a household where he was encouraged to explore religious and political ideals which interested him; he’d been surrounded by supportive parents and a doting older sister; he’d never touched a drug harder than the accidental joint he’d smoked incorrectly his sophomore year of college.

Thus, at this particular point in time, when Ted found himself suddenly naked, trembling, and standing at a size shorter than a grain of rice upon the richly textured hill of his own clothes in his childhood home’s upstairs loft, there was no real precedent for response.

At least, he was pretty sure it was his height that was altered in one mind-swimming nanosecond between conscious thought and unconscious. Because the only other explanation was that the tastefully arranged living space had, without warning, blossomed out beyond its natural geometry and the bounds of known physics, growing so utterly massive in a single instant that it would’ve thrown off the very rotation of the earth.

So, there really was just one explanation, even if Ted was currently unwilling to believe this wasn’t a dream: he had shrunk. In fact, he’d shrunk a great deal. The young man was no calculus major, but judging by the nearby squat, wooden leg of a couch which now compared roughly to the size of a multi-tiered office building, he had to guess he was somewhere around a single millimeter tall.

He was positively a speck.

“HELLO!” he squeaked pathetically. “ANYONE?” He felt stupid almost as soon as he’d tried shouting; his voice couldn’t have been louder than a gnat’s whine.

Extremities numb from the shock of it, not to mention the cold air against his skin, Ted followed his instincts. He began the hike down the side of the shirt and jeans where he’d regained cogency. The outfit was piled in the corner of the loft, far from any other structure or furniture. So light and inconsequential had his weight become at this height, the clothing could hardly have been said to be disturbed as Ted walked. His feet sunk gently into the soft clothing only just, like tightly packed sand in a dune. It took a little clambering, but Ted managed to climb off his abandoned jeans and reach the shaggy brush of the carpet.

At just a millimeter in whatever bizarre half-asleep reality this was, the cream-white bristles of the carpet rose almost as high as shrubs around Ted’s knees. The young man scratched his head as he sat back against the nearest clothen flap of his denim trousers.

He’d been hiking plenty of times in his life, on some occasions even in risky mountainous regions. There were always rules and regulations for safety drilled into his brain, and now, of all times, those reminders were coming to the forefront.

Stay where you are. Think through your previous steps. Picture where you’ve been.

So what had he been doing? Ted squinted, peering across the dizzying expanse of the upstairs loft: between the pillar-like legs of the snack table, over the open space reserved as the impromptu dance floor, and past the monumental structure of the couch in the distance, toward the rainbow-colored stack of presents beyond.

His previous steps were gelling again in memory. Ted had spent the better part of this morning arranging the wide-open living space for the birthday homecoming of his now twenty-five-year-old sister Molly and her friends, coming over very soon for a private celebratory bash. Hanging streamers and balloons, tidying the room, stacking the gleaming ribbon-strewn packages just so: Ted had intended everything to be perfect for his sister’s return.

After not having seen his sibling for close to ten months now, given his time away at college and her work in the next town over as a paralegal, Ted was determined that the young woman have the best birthday of her twenties so far. Aside from helping his mother all day with the preparations, his own present to Molly was something he was sure would make her squeal with delight and adoration.

Ted couldn’t help but remember an occasion when his sister was fifteen and he was just a lowly eleven, when the girl, newly interested in fashion and design, had begged their mother and father for a shoe-trying activity at her upcoming sweet sixteen, where she and her friends could put on and model for one another a variety of new shoes, with the option to keep the ones which fit and felt the best. Of course, the obvious cost of such a game, even if the unused shoes were returned, meant Molly was denied this birthday treat. In years afterward, she’d often jokingly remind her mother of the request, only to be gently shot down again.

This year, Ted knew, she’d worked hard enough at her new job to deserve that little teenage pipe dream coming true. So, after several semesters working two different part-time shifts in college, he’d saved up enough of a nest egg that he could be the one to grant that decade-old wish. With some helpful suggestions from his mother and two female friends, Ted scrounged together enough cash to purchase an impressively varied mix of footwear from the local mall. He sampled from different stores to ensure just about every type of major food group of shoe was covered from sandals to heels to boots, and most things in between. He’d then carefully arranged each box of freshly bought footwear in a line beside the birthday present pyramid.

Ted’s gift to his sister was not merely multiple boxes of brand-new shoes (her personal favorite asset of any outfit), but a loving reminder that he valued his relationship with her enough to remember those cherished times from their youth. After all, she’d helped him learn to ride a two-wheeler bike; she’d driven him to and from sports practices for years; she’d scared off a bully at the bus stop before he was tall enough to defend himself; she’d more than once allowed him in his toddling youth to crawl into her bed during a thunderstorm. Today was payback for Ted, and he couldn’t have been more excited to see the look on Molly’s face.

Now, as he sat on the cuff of his jeans at one millimeter tall, he was just as excited, if not more-so. That increased anticipation was now borne of the inevitable need to be seen at this new size, so he might be rescued. Of course, that depended on whether or not the rest of the house, or even the subdivision or country, had shrunk along with him in that same instant, possibly as the result of a biological attack. Though Ted couldn’t say he’d ever heard of something quite like this being possible, so he chose to stick with “dream.” Believing this to be a dream helped him keep his heartrate much more in check.

The answer to his question of whether he was alone or not in this brave new world came quicker than expected. Down below, through the loft railing bars, Ted heard booming footsteps, followed by the giddy chattering of two female voices crisscrossing over one another.

Molly was home at last.

Ted blinked, looking down at his bare body, and slapped himself in the cheek. He couldn’t exactly explain why. The raw reality came to this: whether or not this was a dream, which it almost certainly was, it made sense to follow the rules of being lost in the words. Then, on the infinitesimal off-chance that this actually was real, and he truly did shrink down to a millimeter in size, his odds of survival increased greatly if he found shelter and, if possible, humanitarian aid.

The young man set off toward the nearest leg of the couch. It wasn’t easy going; the thick clusters of carpet fluff impeded quick movement at his size. At best, Ted found a method of awkward vaulting over the bristly lumps which eventually allowed him to traverse more quickly, but there was still quite the gulf of space between him and the couch, let alone the stack of presents and the stairs. He was just glad he vacuumed earlier, or he might’ve encountered a horse-sized ant on his travels.

Going underneath the couch would be safer, but his best odds of being seen lay with that neon tower of gift-wrapped goodies and the impressive line of shoe boxes he’d set out for his sister and her friends to enjoy. Ted took a deep breath and pressed on. The presents, it was.

As he jogged, Ted could eventually piece together some of the excited conversation from down below. The sheer volume of it pulsed in his tiny ears, even though his mother and sister were a full story down below the loft.

“My God, Mom, the house looks fantastic! You know there’s only like four people coming over in a little bit, right? You didn’t have to get it so fancy just for us. And look at all that food! Seriously, it looks great.”

“Why, thank you, dear,” said Isabel Barnes. “Though I can’t take all of the credit. Your brother’s been hard at work.”
 “Seriously? That’s… wow, I wouldn’t have guessed. Like, the little paper bubble letters up on the ceiling and the balloons on the mailbox?”
 “That was all Ted,” their mother said proudly.

“No kidding? Huh, my little brother’s really something else, isn’t he? Know where he got off to? I gotta give him a noogie or something and then hear about his last semester of school.”

“Last I checked, he was upstairs, making sure the loft was all set for you and your friends. He’s got a fun little surprise for you waiting up there!”

Ted froze in his tracks. “Little surprise” was a bit of an understatement in more ways than one.

“A surprise? Ted got me a surprise? Hmmm. Well, what kind of sister would I be if I didn’t go up there right away and spring the surprise as soon as humanly possible?”

“Head on up! I’m sure he’d love to show it to you,” Isabel said.

The booming footsteps resumed. In an almost ghostly sensation, Ted could feel the quake of the earth below his own two feet. It was intensifying now. Stomach churning, he recommitted to running across the fluffy plain of the carpet.

At such an insignificant height, the infinite walls never seemed to draw any closer, no matter how long he pumped his legs. However, after what felt like close to an hour, though in reality only a few minutes of effort, Ted arrived at the neatly stacked mountain of colorful presents. Peering up toward the summit so high up, he sidled up against the nearest cardboard shoebox the size of an aircraft carrier. It was brain-draining to imagine that, a mere fifteen minutes ago, he’d effortlessly carried up all the shoeboxes in two trips all on his own; now, this very same rectangular prism was so broad, he had to turn his head just to see both corners.

He could spot the top stair step far off in the distance, though from his low vantage point, was unable to peek over the edge. It wasn’t until he saw Molly’s face rise into view, so near to the top, that he received any further sign that she was coming. But once he set eyes on his older sister, more inconceivably massive than anything he could’ve imagined, he didn’t need a second hint that what he was seeing was real.

She was beautiful, as always, made-up modestly with the kind of girl-next-door vibe that Ted knew she used in grade school to make genuine friends and drive the boys wild in equal measure. Her dark chocolate hair, twisted up into a silky braid behind her head, bounced merrily as she ascended the stairs. Next her body came into view, garbed in a sweet Easter-egg green colored top and cute knee-length white skirt.

And as wonderful as it was to see her, Ted was nearly bowled over. She took up the whole horizon. There was no point of comparison. She was the largest living creature he’d ever laid eyes upon by miles: she, his slender, five-foot-seven sister with her graceful hands and winsome smile.