Fresh Start

Chapter 21
Meet the Parents

Belton emerged into the waiting room and found the Smithsons waiting in their chairs, both sets of eyes glazed over just as he’d hoped.

“Well hello there!” he greeted them.

The middle aged man and woman looked up, eyes still faraway, unfocussed. “Hi,” Mrs Smithson mumbled while her hubby tried to clear his head.

“Why don’t you two come into my office, make yourselves comfortable,” he suggested.

The two ambled in, dropping heavily into the chairs before his desk.

“Now you’re probably wondering why I brought you here today,” Belton reminded them.

Mr Smithson shook himself out of his daze as he recalled why he was there. His eyes regained some focus and he grew more animated. “Matt! What’s wrong with our boy?” he demanded.

His wife also broke out of her reverie upon hearing her son’s name yelled out. “Yes, why did you need us here, they wouldn’t tell us anything on the phone!”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” her husband blurted out, not waiting for an explanation.

“Shush dear, we don’t even know what the problem is,” she chided.

“Yes Mr Smithson, please calm down,” Belton coolly directed.

“It’s Gerald,” he corrected, slumping back into his seat.

“Sorry, Gerald, please remain calm, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Thank you Mr Belton. But why did you call us then?” Mrs Smithson asked.

“Well Mrs Smithson...”

“Sara.”

“Right, Sara, I called you here because we’d like to try a special programme on your son. You see, he’s had a very hard time properly adjusting to his new body.”

“What kind of programme?” Gerald piped up, sounding sceptical.

“Well many parents don’t give enough thought to the idea of having a ‘special’ child,” Belton explained.

“Special? What like disabled?” Gerald snapped.

“Is something wrong with Matt?” Sara demanded, nervous again.

“No, he’s fine and you both feel quite relaxed right now, don’t you?”

Both parents slumped back in their seats, eyes glazing again.

“That’s better. Now I’m not talking about disabled children, just a child who’s a bit slow, a bit behind. I mean a child who would need a little bit of extra care but would garner lots of extra love and attention from everyone. Don’t you think Matty would enjoy having extra love and care?”

“Well yes, I suppose,” Sara said, sounding confused.

“Of course he would!” Belton reassured. “You want Matty to be happy, but he’d be so much happier as a ‘special’ six year old.”

“I... I don’t know...” Sara stuttered, eyes still glassy. Gerald meanwhile sat slumped in his chair, taking this all in but not saying a word.

“He’d only need to be a bit behind, a bit backwards. He could just be a happy four-year old in a six-year old body. Everyone would admire you for caring for a ‘special’ boy too. And think about how much more loving he’d be. So dependent on you, a little boy who’d need you so much, love you so much.”

“Maybe...” Sara agreed, beginning to nod.

“No!” Gerald snapped, breaking his wife out of Belton’s spell. “This... this is all wrong. I didn’t want to do this in the first place and now this? I can’t allow it.”

Belton frowned. It seemed that in this case the ability to fight the effects of the drug may have run in the family. Or perhaps the man was just too strong-willed for this type of adjustment to work. No worries though, there were other ways of dealing with such cases. Belton pressed a green button on his phone, smiling at the Smithsons.

“I understand your concerns and I thank you for your candour Gerald. My colleague will join us momentarily and you can explain your reservations to him.”

Gerald was already shaking his head. “I don’t need to explain my reasoning to anyone. He’s our kid and I say no!”

The door to the office clicked open and Dr Howe strode in, smiling away. “Hi there folks, I’m Gregory Howe, I run the infirmary here,” he announced, stepping between the chairs.

“Look, we’re sorry to waste your time, but we aren’t interested,” Gerald informed the man.

“Yes Greg, it seems they aren’t interested in the programme,” Belton explained, giving Howe a little nod.

“I understand,” Howe said, nodding back quickly.

There was no time for the Smithsons to react to what happened next. The doctor’s hand slipped into his pocket for only a second and then his hand formed into a fist and drove down at Gerald, slamming a sharp needle through his shirt and into his forearm. He had barely let out a yelp when Howe spun around to Sara and thrust a second needle into her left arm as well.

“What the hell!” she screamed.

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you,” the doctor assured, swiftly withdrawing the needles. “In fact you’ll be feeling quite nice in a second.”

Sara and Gerald could both feel it, their bodies getting heavy, legs and arms going to sleep, vision blurring. As they went limp in their seats Belton and Howe hurriedly gathered goggles and ear-phones out of the bag the doctor had left in the waiting room. Soon both parents were being subjected to a barrage of visual and auditory stimuli designed to change their minds just as surely as it did the kids’.