Clocktown

Chapter 3
Part 3

Part 3

Still in his clothes, Seth awoke to find himself curled up on the Tierney’s living room couch. Sitting up abruptly, he glanced around his empty quarters, his eyes still working to adjust to the light. Naturally the first inclination was to disregard last night’s events as a lucid dream, a trick of the unconscious. Sticky with sweat and wondering how he’d ever fallen asleep in the first place, Seth stumbled toward the hallway and into the nearest bathroom. Turning on the light, he felt the same jolt of disbelief.

There in the mirror stood a messy-haired man of twenty-five.

Eyes growing wide again, Seth ran his hands across his scruffy cheeks as the memories replayed in his mind. It was all real. George Tierney had turned him into a twentysomething the night before, the age games were no dream, and the objective remained: how to escape without pissing off his host.

“Ah, Seth. Up and at ?em, are we?” George said, his shadow taking over the doorway to the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Seth answered, momentarily startled. “I guess so. Any word on my car?”

“I took the liberty of having it towed to Randy Cunningham’s place over on Vine. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no, that’s great. Any idea how long we’re talking?” Seth asked, trying desperately to tame his hair with his hands. “I really need to get going...“

“Randy said he could have her up and running by this evening,” George replied.

“This evening?” Seth groaned, his expression melting into a resigned grimace. “It was just a fender bender. Surely whatever I knocked loose could be fixed in a couple hours. Can’t he bump me up?”

George’s posture slumped, hearing Seth’s urgent tone. “I’m afraid that’s the optimistic estimate, Seth. What’s wrong, can’t stand a few more hours here with us?”

“No, you’ve been very kind,” Seth said, again studying his new body. “Very kind. I just have work to do, you know? Back in LA.”

“How about a walk?” George suggested oddly. “I’ll show you around town and we can check on your car while we’re out.”

Seth tentatively agreed with more than a hint of reluctance. If he didn’t know better, he might suspect George was conspiring to keep him from leaving town.

Showered and groomed, Seth emerged from the bathroom sporting his new, more youthful look. In the kitchen, he discovered George, Gwen, and Lindsay quietly eating their traditional breakfast. They motioned for him to take the vacant seat, where a plate had been set for him.

“Milk or orange juice?” Gwen asked automatically.

“Oh, orange juice would be fine,” Seth answered, locking eyes with Lindsay, who sat much lower to the table than during their previous meal.

The conversation, light and inconsequential, carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. Just George, Gwen, and their elementary school-aged daughter preparing for a normal day. But the intensity brewing in Lindsay’s eyes belied the routine atmosphere. When their gazes met, Seth sensed a palpable anger and resentment welling up inside the seven-year-old as she munched silently away at her cereal.

“Go get dressed now, honey,” Gwen said to her daughter.

“OK, Mom,” she complied in a new, squeaky soprano.

Standing up and sheepishly retrieving her Captain Crunch bowl, Lindsay stared directly at Seth, as if to issue a nonverbal warning. As she left to get dressed, he couldn’t help but observe how much shorter last night’s episode had left the poor pajama-clad girl.

“Ready for your tour?” George said, wiping his face with a napkin.

“Sure, sounds good,” Seth tried to remain upbeat despite the underlying tension in the room.

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Unlocking the gate, George stepped onto the sidewalk carrying his briefcase, a curiosity that led Seth to inquire what purpose it served.

“Oh, just some business I need to take care of while we’re out. You don’t mind, do you?” He sealed the deal with a gentlemanly grin.

“I guess not,” Seth replied meekly. “It’s your town, after all, right?”

“That it is,” George wasted no time agreeing.

The pair traveled down Main Street at a casual pace. Admiring the evenly planted trees lining the road, Mr. Tierney explained how the town had turned around since he began his tenure as Mayor. School attendance was up, crime was down, and businesses were prospering. To hear George tell it, his plan to remake the ailing rural town into a real life Mayberry had succeeded beyond anyone’s expectations.

But Seth had to wonder at the peculiar habits of the townspeople. It seemed nearly everyone they approached on their short walk made pains to avoid eye contact and cross the street rather than pass by and say a friendly hello. He noticed doors closing and blinds being drawn, but maybe it was just his imagination or a coincidence.

Another curious sight caught Seth’s attention as they rounded the corner onto Elm. A boy no older than thirteen wearing a suit and tie like a businessman. His hair gelled and eyes hidden behind sunglasses, the kid either possessed an acute precociousness or else he too had been a victim (or beneficiary) of Mr. Tierney’s device. Seth had to snicker as he watched the boy stop to answer a cell phone call, like some high-powered Wall Street type.

“And over here is where the old theater used to be,” George pointed out to his distracted partner. “We moved it to Main and had it completely refurbished...”

“Oh,” Seth said, snapping back into the conversation. “Nice.”

Soon they passed a small caf? where an attractive woman, probably in her late thirties, shot them a worried glare. Dressed somewhat provocatively, the redhead darted around like someone half her age as she cleared the tables.

Once out of earshot, George suddenly stopped and turned around.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, opening his briefcase and, much to Seth’s surprise, pulling out the device. “Just a quick favor for a friend.”

“But I thought you said...“

Aiming the gun at the woman, Mr. Tierney pulled the trigger as he adjusted the controls. Seth’s attention bounced back and forth between the device and the waitress busing tables about half a block back. Any minute he expected to see her height diminish and her dress crumple onto the ground. Instead, it appeared nothing was happening.

“What did you do to her?” Seth gulped.

“Her mother works in my office. Said her teenager kept complaining about how no one treats her like a grown up, how it’s unfair...you know the usual routine for kids that age.”

Seth tried to follow George’s hasty backstory. “So, that woman is really a teenager?”

“She’s sixteen,” Mr. Tierney explained, packing the device back into the briefcase. “I made her thirty-eight to teach her a lesson, but her mother said it wasn’t working.”

“So you made her older?”

“Yep,” George responded indifferently. By that time the unlucky girl, now growing crow’s feet and sagging breasts, could be heard sobbing and running inside. “We’ll see how she likes drawing Social Security.”

“I thought you said you don’t go around flashing it off,” Seth reminded Mr. Tierney.

“Well, only on business, you know,” he replied, becoming slightly defensive. “I don’t use it carelessly.”

“Oh, I’m not saying that...” Seth quickly backpedaled. “Of course not.”

“We’re coming up on Randy’s,” George said, thankfully changing the subject. “I can see your Civic.”

The modest mechanic had his head under the hood of an Oldsmobile when George and Seth walked up. Still shaken by the open-air demonstration just a few feet back, Seth could hardly enjoy the pleasant small-town image of Mr. Cunningham’s oily handkerchief dangling from his back pocket. Nor did he notice the young man in a tank top wiping off windshields across the lot.

“Hi there, Mayor,” Randy said, turning to greet his visitors. “Here to check on Mr. Travers’ Civic?”

“Yeah, is there any way you could finish by this afternoon?” Seth interjected.

“In a hurry, boy?” the greasy man replied in a raspy voice.

“Oh, no, not really,” Seth said, faking a smile, “Just eager to get back home.”

“Well, I’ve got some bad news. I’m going to need a part from the manufacturer. Probably take me at least two days to get it.”

All the saliva left Seth’s mouth. “Two days??”

“It’s no problem, Seth,” George consoled him. “We’d be happy to put you up for another couple nights.”

“Say, by the way,” Randy interrupted, pointing toward his rather handsome assistant. “I was talking to the wife last night about the boy going off to college... and, well, last week Jeff and I went to a little league game. Kinda brought back some memories. Anyway I was wondering if you could use you know to maybe help us out.”

Mr. Tierney raised an eyebrow.

“For payment, of course. How about I fix Mr. Travers car here for free?”

“Well, I think that can be arranged,” George said, once again slipping the Creason Device from his case. “How young are you thinking?”

Seth backed away slowly as the impromptu transaction unfurled.

“Oh, I don’t know. What’s the age limit on little league again?”

“I believe it’s eleven,” Mr. Tierney supplied the answer as he raised the device and pointed it toward the muscular eighteen-year-old. “Always good to keep our talent here in town, I say.”

Moments later, the teen began tugging at his oil-stained pants. Seconds passed and he found his tank top hanging uselessly off his shoulder. Little time elapsed before Jeff caught on and raised his arms in aggravation.

“Hey Dad, what the fuck?!” the fifteen-year-old yelled, examining his underarms and finding only a few wisps of hair. Gradually realizing what was happening to him, Jeff studied his hands intently, then reached down to yank his dropping pants back up to his thinning waist.

Amused by what was no doubt a repeat occurrence, Randy’s response was startlingly blas?. “Come on, Jeff. Your mom will love it this time.”

“I have a date tonight!” the preteen shot back, his voice cracking in the process.

“Well, looks like you better cancel it!” Randy laughed, watching his son dwindle from a well-built young man into a lean little boy.

“It’s not fair!”

Once Lindsay’s boyfriend, Jeff Cunningham had learned the perils of living with the age-changing machine. These days he felt lucky just being allowed into his teens. In fact, the past two years had gone along smoothly and Jeff was happy with the results of his new exercise regime. To see all that hard work washed away in a matter of seconds really burned him up. Little could be done, though, as one blast from the Creason Device had already landed him back in the fifth grade. He wasn’t about to try for the fourth.

“How old did you make him?” Randy asked casually, finishing up his work on the Oldsmobile.

“Around ten,” George replied. “Should be about there from the looks of him.”

“Thanks,” Randy said, shaking the mayor’s hand. “His mom really will enjoy it. All that talk about college was making her feel old, you know.”

“Understood,” George said. “Well, you ready to go?”

Struggling for words, Seth worked hard to wipe the deer-in-headlights expression from his face, not knowing if he was succeeding.

“Um... yeah,” Seth sputtered. “Yes.”

Next on the tour was Battle Park, a charming little enclave dotted with wooden benches and picnic tables. Relatively quiet except for a group of middle school boys playing basketball on the court at the opposite end of the park, the area nevertheless did little to soothe Seth’s nerves. More and more, Lindsay’s story was checking out and Seth felt increasingly trapped in Mr. Tierney’s tightening web.

“Ever think of moving to a small town?” George asked, parking himself on a bench.

“Not really,” Seth calibrated his answers carefully. “But they seem really nice.”

“I just say that because... I’m looking for an assistant. You know, someone I can count on.”

Seth didn’t appreciate where this was heading, but he listened attentively as Mr. Tierney continued.

“The device is a big responsibility,” he remarked like a manager running through the company handbook. “Our whole community depends on it. Making sure it stays out of the wrong hands is crucial. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the worst scenarios...”

A nearby flock of pigeons filled the lulls in the conversation with intermittent chirps.

“Criminals, terrorists... if anyone else knew about it... well...”

“I imagine.”

The two sat nearly stationary for the next five minutes, just staring at the scenery. Beyond the drinking fountain, a giggling teenaged couple cozied up on a bench. After a couple minutes, the two horny sixteen-year-olds started making out, unaware the bushes provided them little cover. While Seth tried to avoid gawking at the amusing sight, Mr. Tierney could be heard reaching back down into the briefcase. Seth grew concerned.

“Hey, what...“

“Shhhh,” George instructed him. “Those two are way too young for that.”

Wondering whether Mr. Tierney planned to age or regress the pair, Seth nervously sat on his hands, trying his best not to intervene. But as it became clear the teens were shrinking into preadolescents in baggy clothes, he couldn’t hold himself back.

“Stop it!” he ordered, lunging to grab the device.

Mr. Tierney pawed at the gun, growling “What the hell are you...?!” but soon found himself on the receiving end.

“I can’t let you go around turning people into children,” Seth said, his voice quivering as he held the device firmly with both hands. “It’s not right.”

In his periphery, Seth barely recognized the once-teenaged lovebirds, now nearly kindergartners tripping over their massive clothes.

“I think you better hand that back,” Mr. Tierney said menacingly. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“I’ve seen enough, Mr. Tierney,” Seth responded, backing up but keeping a perfect bead on George. “Lindsay was right. You keep people under control with this thing...“

“I keep this town in line. I make people follow the rules. I give people what they deserve,” George stated. “Now give it back to me before you do something stupid.”

Mr. Tierney crept closer.

“Stay back!” Seth said, fingering the trigger.

“I swear, son. I’m going to put you back in diapers!” George yelled, lunging for the device. Coming up short, Seth had just enough time to squeeze the trigger and send the pulse directly into Mr. Tierney’s chest. Both men stayed silent for a moment, as George slunk back onto the bench, the indescribable sting coursing through his limbs. When he finally lifted his head, Seth could see the machine’s effects already fast at work.

“What did you do?” the dazed twenty-nine-year-old stuttered.

Keeping his mouth shut and his eyes on the youthening mayor, Seth cautiously moved away. As he turned, though, he could hear Mr. Tierney leaping up. The two quickly broke into a chase, with George battling his loosening clothes.

“You son of bitch!” he shouted, now a gangly lad of seventeen. “Come back!”

Still running at full speed, Seth made periodic glances back. Each time Mr. Tierney appeared younger and less able to keep up. The shouts grew higher in pitch as George slipped by the threshold of puberty and reverted to a boy of ten, then nine, then eight. The taunts became fainter and more childish-sounding as Seth pressed on toward Main Street.

 

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