Chapter 4: The Claws

Linus ran a red light on the way home from Scarlett’s hotel. He was so distracted. The Fortis Beach Police that pulled him over recognized Linus from his days in the municipal court before he joined the firm. They talked about all the speeders and drunk drivers Linus had convicted as a junior prosecutor and those he’d gotten acquitted in his brief time as a defense attorney. The officer told Linus he’d let him go with a warning as long as nothing came back when he ran his license through their computer.

But as much of a relief as that was that Linus wouldn’t get a ticket  — he was even more in a panic when he pulled away to finish the drive home five minutes later.

While Linus had waited in the car for the officer to run his license and registration through the crime computer, he’d done what they tell you to do these days; Linus kept his hands in plain sight at “ten and two” on the steering wheel. He stared over the wheel at the infotainment screen of his brand new Toyota LandCruiser SUV thinking about green eyes and Valeria. He absently noted the navigation said he was 2.1 miles from home and had a turn in six hundred feet. The clock read 11:59pm.

And then, as the time flipped to 12:00, Linus saw it. Or rather, he saw them. In the glow of the strobing blue light atop the police car, Linus’s hands on the wheel were visible in flashes, tingling and shimmering. Everything seemed normal at first. But after each strobing flash, his hands changed. For a few seconds, he thought it was a trick of the light. But then Linus knew it wasn’t.

Not only could he see his fingers become smaller, more slender, and the skin smoother, but he could see the nails slowly get longer and take on a lustrous glow. When he pulled his left hand back to look, Linus saw then that the nails were shiny. Very shiny. And pink. He was still staring at them when the police officer’s body passed in front of the lights as he returned to Linus’s car door.

Linus quickly lowered his hands out of sight. The patrolman tore off a warning citation from his pad and passed Linus’s license and registration through the window, waiting for him to take them. But Linus just stared at the man.

“Sir, please take these and drive safely,” the officer said in a flat “cop” tone.

Linus nodded. “Th…Thanks.” But he didn’t dare move to take the items. “You…you can just drop them.”

“What?” The cop leaned into the window, incredulous and growing impatient.

Linus realized that his reluctance to take his license and paperwork would make the officer suspicious. So, he closed his fist and reached up, trying to time it with the strobe so his fingers wouldn’t be lit. He grasped the cards between his knuckles and snatched them from the cop’s hand. Somehow it worked, and the patrolman didn’t see what Linus was hiding.

He wanted to wait for the cop to pull away, but that wasn’t police policy, as the flash of the police car’s headlights and a chirp of the siren told him. So Linus put his slender new hands on the bottom of the wheel and slowly pulled out, his feet slipping weirdly on the brake and accelerator. Linus’s heart was beating so fast that his Garmin watch warned him of being overly stressed.

Somehow, he made it home and into his garage. With some difficulty, he released the seatbelt and opened the car door. Linus stumbled as he got out of his SUV. His size eleven shoes, suddenly too large, fell off his feet as he wobbled into the house. This barely registered with him, though. Linus’s mind could comprehend nothing. Fear had totally replaced logic.

Once inside, the terrified man stumbled clumsily, the large socks flapping on his feet, to the bathroom. He flipped on the light with one of his new taloned fingers and stared into the mirror. His impossibly large and newly green eyes were now even larger and filled with terror. He moved those eyes from the mirror to his hands. They were petite, very slender, and flawlessly pale white.

He pushed up his sleeves to find that his arms looked different, too. Though mostly hairless and white instead of his normal tanned and hairy limbs, they still appeared to more or less be his arms. But for how long?

Returning to his hands, he turned them over. On the inside of his left wrist was a small tattoo of a fairy. On the right was the symbol for the female. As Linus tried to comprehend what these foreign eyes were seeing, his brain had had enough. Between the sex and the shock of these developments, his mental fuse finally blew. And in a moment, lightheadedness became darkness, and he slumped to the bathroom floor in a heap.

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The next sensation Linus experienced came hours later, with the sun already shining brightly. The sensation was sound. It was a ringing sound. His phone. It was still in the pocket of his slacks. On automatic, he reached for the phone. It felt so large. But he managed to pull it out of his pants and turn it around.

Two things terrified him. First, he was looking at the image of his boss’s face on the phone, the senior partner at his firm. And second, the long-nailed, pale white hand that held the phone wasn’t his.

Somehow, though, he was able to use the tiny foreign index finger to answer. Before the phone was to his ear, he could hear Edgar Washington yelling. “Where the fuck are you, Newcombe?! Gulf Coast has been waiting for an hour!”

He put the phone to his ear and spoke in a shaky voice. “I’m sorry, boss. I’ll be…” He started to say “right there,” but realized staring at the glossy pink nail of his other hand that he couldn’t possibly go to work looking like this. He heard a siren passing by his house and got an idea. “I’m at the hospital. Got food poisoning. I…I’m sorry to miss the meeting.”

Edgar Washington growled. “Food poisoning! Really Newcombe! You sound like a teenager cutting school. You expect me to believe that shit?”

Linus switched into defense lawyer mode and cashed in some reputation. “Sir, I know what it sounds like. But have I ever called in sick before? Have I ever missed any meetings? Would I risk the Gulf Coast Financial account?” He was sweating now and felt ill.

The old man on the other end of the phone paused. And then after several seconds of uncomfortable silence, Edgar Washington spoke in a much calmer tone, saying, “No. I don’t suppose you have.” Another pause. “Food poisoning. Seafood?”

Linus exhaled heavily. “Yes, sir. Clams. If you want to put Ms. Marshall on the phone…”

“Um. Yeah. Don’t…don’t worry. I’ll sweet talk her. She owes me a favor or two, and we’ve been doing business with Gulf Coast for decades. You may have to burn some late hours when you get back, though. But it’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, boss…Mr. Washington.”

“No problem, son.” There was another pause It was clear that Mr. Washington wasn’t fully buying the story. “Food poisoning? Are you at Fortis Beach Medical? I’ll come by to check on you.”

Linus thought quickly. “Uh, no. I was coming back from Fort Myers. They brought me to University Medical. Going to keep me till tomorrow.”

His boss sounded guilty now. “Do you want us to send a car tomorrow? I can send Isaac and one of the runners. They can bring your car back.”

“That’s…That’s kind of you, sir. But I should be fine. If I need help, I’ll call Isaac myself.”

“Okay, Linus. Sorry for going off on you.” The mention of Isaac seemed to satisfy his boss.

Linus could hear a woman’s voice. Edgar spoke. “Hey, Julie wants to talk to you.”

Linus’s administrative assistant came on the line. “Hi Linus. I overheard. God, I’m so sorry. Food poisoning is no fun! Bad oysters?”

“Thanks Julie. Um, no. Clams. Can you help Mr. Washington deal with the Gulf Coast folks?”

“You don’t worry about a thing. Just get better. Want to see those bright green eyes of yours sparkling again soon. Um, gotta give Mr. Washington his phone back. Call me if you need anything, boss. Bye, dear.”

Linus came back, “What did you say about my eyes, Julie?” But it was too late. She had hung up.

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Chapter 5: The Cause

Linus lay there on the floor, trying to get a handle on what was going on. He continued to stare at his hands, flexing the alien fingers. They felt more supple and deft. When he rubbed the fingertips together, he received more sensation. Rubbing his palm, he found it soft and smooth, free of any calluses. Other than that there were five digits on each hand, not one thing about them was familiar. Or manly.

Linus managed to stand up, holding on to the sink it was a struggle. He stood before his bathroom vanity and then got lost looking at the nails. They were beautiful, but so utterly feminine. He remembered his wife going to a salon and spending hundreds of dollars on her nails, and they didn’t look this good. The soft pink color was girlish, but also not childish. Whoever these hands belonged to, it was a woman. A young woman. But who? And why were they attached to his arms?

Linus staggered from the bathroom, almost falling. As he reached for the towel rack to regain his balance, he looked down and received another shock. He remembered walking out of his shoes in the garage, but now he knew why. One of his socks had slipped off when he slumped to the floor the night before, revealing what he now saw. His toes were painted the same soft pink as his fingers, and there was a gold ring on the second toe of his left foot. But more than that, the feet were tiny, hairless, and pale white.

His ex-wife, Beth, wore a woman’s US size eight shoe. He knew this because she complained about how big her feet were and she constantly called attention to them. Linus’s feet now were much smaller than hers, he was sure. But it wasn’t only that they looked small. He now knew why he’d stumbled so much getting to the bathroom. Walking with such small feet was difficult for someone of his height. Far less stable. Linus continued to notice this as he had to hold on to the walls to make it to the bedroom. 

He also tended to walk on the balls of his feet now instead of heel to toe as he was used to. No, these, like his hands, weren’t simply smaller versions of his feet. These were someone else’s. And, judging by the size and the nail polish, whoever owned the hands also obviously owned the feet.

Linus couldn’t think straight. Part of it was because of his mind’s inability to wrestle with the bizarre things that were happening to him. But the other reason was that his head was pounding. He made his way carefully into the kitchen and started the automatic coffee maker. The grinder started up, and he immediately regretted the decision to use it. But it was going now, and so he let it finish.

While the coffee brewed, he retrieved three Tylenol from the cabinet and dry-swallowed them. Linus knew he had a caffeine deficit, but that didn’t explain why his head throbbed. He’d only had one drink the night before, so it couldn’t be a hangover. He mirthlessly thought, “Maybe I got the hangover of whoever owns these hands and feet.”

With the coffee poured into what now seemed to his hands like a much bigger mug, he leaned against the counter and stared into space. However, it wasn’t empty space he was looking at. It was the eReader lying on the counter. A little white light flashed in one corner, and something about it drew him to investigate.

He tapped the fingerprint icon in the middle of the screen with his finger, and the device instantly unlocked. I didn’t have to do the password thing. The reader again opened to Anna’s Journal. And once again, two entries were displayed. But these weren’t the two from the last time he looked. Linus hadn’t checked the reader on Sunday. But there was an entry for Sunday. Well, Sunday ten years before.

September 28, 2015, 11pm

Marie came over. She’s been having a hard time since she and Paul broke up. But she seemed better at first. My twin sister always falls hard for men who show her any attention. I kept telling her that girls were better and that she should try one sometime. She never thought that was funny before…and she didn’t today, either. She was so angry when she left. I just don’t want her to settle for “anything with a dick.”

We are supposed to be fraternal twins. But I think we’re “mirror twins.” She’s right-handed, while I’m left-handed. I like girls. She likes boys. She’s blonde and I’m a ginger. I always thought that we were natured alike, though. But after my night with Valeria, I think I’ve grown more assertive. And I might have taken things a little too far in that direction tonight with my sister. But Marie crossed the line. She said some things that really hurt me. Attacking me and my choices like she’s some paragon of virtue. I cried for an hour after she left. She really got to me this time in the ways that only your twin can. I know she didn’t mean what she said, but it still hurts. I hope she’ll call me tomorrow.

As I write this, I’m staring at my hands…at my nails. They are beautiful. Thanks to Marie. One great thing is that she brought over her supplies. Having a sister who is a premium, what does she call it, esthetician, is fantastic. Before the fight, she did my nails and, wow! They look incredible. I love this shade of pink! It’s “strawberry cheesecake.” I won’t take the polish off until Marie and I are okay again. I need my nails to remind me how much we do love each other, no matter how awful she was to me tonight.

I called Valeria in tears, and damn if she didn’t come right over. I was so glad she did. Helped me to have someone to talk to after Marie left in such a furious state. We polished off two bottles of wine. I know I’m going to feel it tomorrow! We didn’t make love, but we lay there naked together, just being. Just touching. She is amazing. I wanted her to stay over and hold me, but she has to be at work early.

I think I love her.

Linus stared at the dull black text. Over and over, he read the entry. Everything Anna described, he could see and feel. Her hands were now his hands. Her feet were now attached to his legs…or are these her legs, too? His joke to himself earlier was true. I do have her hangover.

Above the diary entry for “yesterday” he had just read was one dated ten years ago today. Linus was sure now of what was happening, though he did not know why. Whatever the journal mentioned would happen to him the next day. Remembering his hands changing the night before, he thought, Or, to be precise, this will happen at exactly midnight.

Two days ago, he’d resisted the temptation to peek further into Anna B’s life out of respect for her privacy. Now he resisted because of fear. Linus didn’t want to read the entry from ten years ago today. But he knew that he had to. He had to know what was to come in just fourteen short hours.

September 29, 2015, 6:30pm

Nothing from Marie. I want her to call. I could call her, but this time I need her to make the first move. The things she said…I just can’t simply call her and say it’s all okay. I need her to take it all back first.

And on top of the Marie thing, I hate my job! Well, that’s not true. I hate my bosses. Dwayne, the owner, gave me a hard time again today about my hair. Yes, it’s long and wavy, but I keep it neatly tied up when I’m at work. I don’t look like a hippie, as he says. But he keeps insisting I either get it cut or put it up in a bun. Yes, I work at an advertising agency. But I’m a creator. I’m supposed to be a free spirit. And free spirits don’t wear their hair in a bun! And getting it cut? No way. Valeria loves my auburn locks. She says I look like an Irish princess. So, I’m going to ignore Dwayne. I’ll quit before I cut my hair!

And then there is Millicent, my direct boss. I thought we were going to get along great at first. She’s gay, too. I thought we’d have a bond there. But no, she’s just…just a dyke. And I mean that in the worst possible way. She’s only five-six, but she stands over me like she’s a butch giant, pointing out all I do wrong and trying to make me feel inadequate. Being petite never bothered me. Until now. I wish she could know what being five-one was like! Maybe she’d not be such a bitch! How her girlfriend puts up with her, I’ll never know. I’m so lucky to have Valeria.

 

And there it was. The journal was somehow the cause of his changes. His hands and feet changed at exactly midnight. If the prior entries were any indication, then Anna’s words about herself would become reality for him at midnight tonight. But how? How on earth could all this happen? How could the journal of this woman from ten years before cause him to change? And what could he do about it? It was only a matter of time, it seemed, before he became…her. As it was, he was becoming more and more like her every day. He had to stop this. Had to keep from becoming Anna, whoever the hell she was.

Linus tried to eat a light breakfast. He had no appetite, but knew he needed to keep his strength up so that he could think clearly. After eating, he realized that he still smelled of sex from the night before. Walking on his new girl feet was getting easier, and Linus wasn’t having to hold on to the walls as much. But he was still unsure as he made his way back into the bathroom for his shower.

He stripped off his clothes and turned on the water. While the water heated, Linus studied the changes. The one interesting thing about his feet was that they somehow looked like they fit. His long, smooth legs looked out of place with his enormous feet yesterday, but not anymore. He squeezed his thigh. His legs were fit, but certainly carried a little extra fat around the thighs and seemingly had little of the definition he’d had. Likewise, his calves were trim and tight. Muscular had become shapely. As much as he hated his new tiny feet, he had to admit they worked with his gams. Gams. Yeah. That’s what they are now.

Linus shook his head and adjusted the water temperature. Before stepping into the shower, he absently rubbed his legs to feel if they were still hairless and stubble-free. They still felt perfectly smooth and soft, except for a spot above his left ankle. He picked up one of the new pink razors sitting by the tub to touch up the stubbly spot. Razors that hadn’t been there before today. Suddenly, his mind came back to him as he ran the blade across the spot. “Damn it! What the hell am I doing?” he said aloud, staring at the razor held by his new petite hands.

He shook his head to clear his mind and threw the razor across the bathroom. Why am I worried about my legs being smooth? Even as he asked himself that question, his fingers were running along his smooth calf again checking where he’d just shaved.

His nipples were still distended and sensitive as he gently washed his newly hairless chest. He guessed he had Anna’s nipples now, and he feared what was to follow behind them. And then he came back to today’s journal entry. Linus thought, At least she’s not talking about her breasts.

He fearfully wondered as he replayed the entry in his mind, Can I really shrink over a foot in height? Is that possible? If Anna’s diary came true, that would be his reality. “I am screwed!”

His mind wandered to the conversation he’d had with Julie and how reality seemed to accommodate these alterations; against his memories of who he was. Julie mentioned his green eyes. Does that mean she thinks I’ve always had green eyes? Scarlett didn’t count. She’d never seen his eyes before. But Julie had known him for years. In fact, she’d commented before that his “slate-blue eyes were like him; always cool.”

And there was the “Valeria” question from Scarlett. Did I really call out that name in bed? He must have, he reasoned. How else would Scarlett know that name?

Linus pulled on his underwear, losing his balance momentarily as he lifted one leg. These damned feet! After getting his boxers on, he sat on the edge of his bed staring down at his nails, thinking. Thinking about his eyes and about the waxing kit and then the pink razors. Something in his world was out of sync. It’s like I change, and then the world catches up the next day or something. He shook his head and stood again to finish dressing. The cool air conditioning was causing his nipples to harden again. Got to get some clothes on.

Linus decided he needed to get out of the house. Dressed in a pair of joggers and a long-sleeve T-shirt, he found a bottle of his wife’s old acetone nail polish remover and cleaned the pink polish off his nails; fingers and toes. He clipped his fingers back to a normal man’s length and removed the toe ring and tossed it at his dresser. His hands were still tiny, as were his feet, and both looked decidedly feminine, but if he kept his hands in his pockets, Linus thought he might be okay for a quick outing.

But that left shoes. Of course, none of his shoes would fit; he could almost put both of his feet in one of his shoes now. In the garage, there was a pair of Beth’s old demoted running shoes she wore while gardening, but even tied as tight as they would go, they, too, were much too big. So, Linus opened the little purple backpack that had put all this in motion. He’d remembered something.

Withdrawing the worn-out pair of Teva sandals from the pack, he sighed. Linus felt that even trying this was like giving in. But he had no choice. If he was right about the journal as the cause of these changes, then these sandals should be a perfect fit. There was a distinct impression in the insole where Anna had worn them. He was sadly sure that his feet would settle into those same indentations.

With trepidation, he dropped the size 5-1/2 shoes on the kitchen floor and stepped into them. They fit. Of course they fit! And once on, Linus found walking to be much easier. More natural. As if the shoes knew how to walk even if he didn’t.

The desire to get out of the house and do something…anything…was strong. But at first, Linus didn’t know where to go. And he had to be careful not to run into anyone from the firm or it could put his job in jeopardy. As he had this thought about job preservation, he wondered if he was being delusional. Worrying about his job meant he believed, at some level, he’d be able to get his life back. But of course I believe that! I have to!

For today, however, he also had to think about midnight. He had to think about what was likely to happen to him if the journal’s power was what he believed...what the evidence of his legs, eyes, nipples, hands, and feet showed. And so he found himself heading to Wal-Mart. He picked that store because no one at the firm would be caught dead at a Wal-Mart.

On the way, he saw a text pop up from Isaac. “Dude! Food poisoning? Noice! So, guessing you and Scarlett are still at it, huh? Sacrificed the GC Financial account for a good fuck? I like it! ‘Bout time you used those balls again. Don’t worry. I’m covering for you. I’ll add it to the tab for what you owe me. You dog!!”

Linus hadn’t counted on or thought about Isaac. He’s a good friend. Hope he stays a friend. I have a feeling I’m going to need him. They’d begun working together at the public defender’s office, and Linus had helped Isaac get his job with the firm. He was glad he’d helped Isaac, but he regretted knowing and helping Isaac’s former high school classmate.

Linus tried not to think about Conrad Stephenson, Jr. Fucking prick! Just thinking about Conrad made his blood boil. He’d been what Beth really wanted, at least the type. He was the first of many she’d screwed around with during their marriage, but it went further than that. There seemed to be a cosmic link between the two men. When things happened to Linus, there always seemed to be a Conrad-factor.

Returning to the present, he walked into the garage, sandals snapping on his tiny heels, and climbed into his Toyota. With his smaller feet, he’d had to adjust the seat a little closer to drive, but with a shake of his head at this new accommodation, he backed the big SUV into the quiet street.

Parking at the far end of a row in the crowded parking lot, Linus took a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind. Got to focus on what’s happening. With his first few steps toward the store entrance, he again found walking difficult. But Linus consciously relaxed, and it became easier.

At the store, he went straight to the boy’s section looking at shorts, T-shirts, and sweatpants. In a matter of hours, if the journal trend continued, Linus would be a very small man. And so he bought five sets of small clothes to get him by until he could figure out what to do to reverse all that had happened. Linus bought socks and boy’s underwear. He also bought two pairs of basketball shoes in Youth Size 4. At least he’d be prepared. And if he didn’t shrink, he could always bring the clothes back.

As he was walking to checkout, he saw a young girl with her long blonde hair gathered in an elastic scrunchie. Remembering the journal entry, long, wavy auburn hair, he sighed. Linus watched the cute girl, probably a coed at Fortis Tech, go by and, resigned, found himself in the hair care aisle selecting a five-pack of the little stretchy hair bands.

As he handed his Amex to the cashier, she stared open-mouthed at his hands. He couldn’t really blame her. A six-foot-two man with the porcelain-skinned hands of a petite woman would look funny whether or not they had polished fingernails. Linus quickly stuffed the hands in his pockets, but the cashier continued to watch him all the way out of the store. He glanced back as he exited, thinking, Wait till you see me tomorrow, lady.

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Chapter 6: The Office

Back home, Linus threw the bags of clothes into his closet unceremoniously. Buying the clothes was an admission he couldn’t control what was happening to his body. At least not, yet. But at least he was doing something. Now, though, he didn’t know what to do with the rest of his day. What do you do when you are becoming a replica of a woman you’ve never met? How do you stop someone taking over your life through some unknown supernatural force? Should he return the eReader and the backpack to the tree where he’d found them? Would that stop these changes? Would that reverse them? A flicker of hope and determination rose in him.

Linus returned to the kitchen and picked up the pack. Unzipping it intending to replace the eReader in it, his eyes fell on the items still inside. He paused, a delicate hand resting on the bikini and t-shirt, feeling the fabrics. Linus stared at the objects, his breathing quickening, and then began slowly removing each one. He sniffed the Ed Sheeran T-shirt. It still smelled vaguely of laundry detergent. He fingered the bright yellow bikini and the thin lavender shorts. They felt familiar somehow, and he sensed these objects had a reason for being there. He sighed heavily. Whatever is doing this to me isn’t going to stop just because the pack is gone.

His expressive green eyes then turned to the eReader. If I don’t have the journal, I won’t know what’s coming, and will lose my only source of information about this Anna person and the reasons she’s doing this to me. The idea of returning the eReader and the pack suddenly seemed like a bad idea. It won’t stop the changes. It won’t stop midnight from coming.

And then it occurred to him. Stopping the changes himself wasn’t the answer. Linus needed to stop her…or them. Whoever or whatever is behind all this. He needed to find this woman. This Anna. He’d find her and take this cursed eReader back to her and have her change him back. She was the key. She was the cause. And she could damn well fix it.

Linus put the clothes, neatly folded, back into the pack. Somehow, he couldn’t just stuff them in there. As he handled the feminine items, he felt an urge. Something drew him to them. He easily resisted this new impulse, but it troubled him that the urge was there at all. As he zipped the pack again, his heart racing, he thought, Is this Anna changing more than just my body?

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The private investigator the firm employed had a license to use search software normally reserved for police called DeepSrch. Linus had the login info. He wasn’t supposed to have it, for legal reasons, but during his divorce he’d talked the investigator into letting him use it as long as he kept it confidential and only during the divorce. There was a very good chance the investigator had changed the password, but it was worth a shot.

The problem was that the DeepSrch password was at the law firm. He’d have to go into the office to retrieve it. Linus looked at his watch, noticing the band seemed looser on his arm now. Or is that just my imagination?

It was only 1pm. The office wouldn’t officially close until 5pm, and even then there would be some staying later. He’d have to wait until at least 6pm. What do I do until then? I can’t just sit here doing nothing. Can’t let my mind wander to…He rubbed soft fingers together; the memory of the feel of Anna’s clothes lingered. Got to focus!

Linus decided that using regular Google or some of the consumer pay sites was worth a shot. So, he set out using public record searches. He found typing to be difficult. Linus had always been a fast typist. But these new smaller hands made finding the keys much more challenging at first. If he hadn’t cut off the long nails, it might have been impossible for him. But within thirty minutes, he had adjusted and was nearly as proficient as he had been before. Linus noticed that his new hands, though not as strong, were more precise. More…supple on the keys.

Proficient at typing or not, nothing very useful came up. There was an Anne Blumfeld, 33-years-old and living about forty miles away, but he didn’t think Anna would misspell her own name and actually go by “Anne.” Linus knew Anna could have married this Valeria or someone else and changed her last name, too. So he looked for anyone named Anna with a “B” as a middle initial.

At 5pm he gave up. Nothing in the searches he had accessed was bringing him any closer to finding Anna B, and he’d spent nearly $200 on the crappy “people find” sites. So, Linus changed to a pair of jeans and a hoodie and slipped the Tevas back on. He figured he’d grab a quick bite and then sit in the parking lot across from the firm until the cars he knew were gone from the office. It was only after he was driving near downtown that he realized he’d put Anna’s shoes on without a second thought. I just bought men’s shoes…well, boy’s shoes. Why did I put these on?

Linus went through the drive-thru at McDonald’s and ordered a Big Mac and a large drink, keeping his hands out of sight as much as possible. He parked in the strip mall across from the firm beside a large delivery truck that partly hid his vehicle from view and waited and ate. Holding the burger in his slender, delicate fingers, it didn’t look like a Big Mac. It looked like a Giant Mac. A Colossal Mac. They should use girls in their commercials more.

He saw Julie leave at exactly 5pm with two others, and several other staff followed in the next few minutes. The senior partner, Edgar Washington, left around 5:30pm in his big Mercedes. That left two cars there. One was a top-end Porsche 911. It had a temporary dealer tag, so presumably was brand new. Parked beside it was a black Range Rover that he knew well. “C’mon, Isaac. I know you’re not working. Go on home, dude.”

At 6:05pm, Isaac exited the building. Linus was hopeful his friend was finally leaving, but his hope was quickly dashed. Isaac opened the rear of his SUV, withdrew two liquor bottles, and returned to the building.

Thirty minutes later, Isaac and whoever owned the Porsche were still inside, and Linus had to pee. Shouldn’t have gotten the large Coke. He decided it was time to take a chance. Losing his job wasn’t his primary worry, of course; nevertheless, he didn’t want to throw it all away on his lie about food poisoning.

There was a single security camera over the main door to the firm, but none inside the building. He knew if he stayed close to the front wall, the camera wouldn’t pick him up. But to be sure he wasn’t spotted, Linus put on a Marlins baseball cap, pulled it low over his face, and raised the hood of his sweatshirt.

He’d have to use his badge to get in. Linus could only hope that no one checked the access records for that night. I have no choice, he thought. He hugged the wall of the building, making his way to the entrance. As he passed by the front of the new Porsche, he cursed. “Fuck me!” On the front of the $180,000 sports car was a bright orange decorative license plate with a big white tiger paw in the middle. He knew there was only one person in the area who would put one of those on their car. Linus muttered bitterly, “Fucking Conrad Stephenson.” The man that had shaped much of the last decade of Linus’s life was inside the building.

Working as a new public defender for the county eleven years prior, Linus’s boss had instructed him to attend a high profile DUI case being defended by the largest law firm in the area, the Washington and Jordan Law Firm. Conrad Stephenson, Jr was the defendant. He was up on charges of drunk driving. This would be his third offense, and he wasn’t even twenty-three. In this case, Conrad struck several parked cars, narrowly missing a fire hydrant along the side of the road. The trial was not going well for Conrad as the officer’s body cam and the street monitoring cameras painted the picture of a man clearly intoxicated and out of control. If convicted, Conrad could have been sentenced to five years in jail.

Linus noticed at the end of the first day of the trial, though, that the highly paid defense team had missed a crucial mistake made by the arresting officer. It was pouring rain the evening Conrad was arrested, and the police officer, apparently trying to hurry things along, failed to wait the required twenty minutes before administering the breath test for alcohol. It was a basic legal requirement the defense should have known.

Linus left the courthouse that afternoon and thought about what to do with this information. Conrad was obviously guilty, and Linus, who at that time had never even met the man, already disliked him. After a restless night and a long heated conversation with his wife Beth, Linus wrote a note the next day about the cop’s error and passed it to the lead defense attorney, who used the mistake to have the case dismissed. It was this hastily scribbled note that changed Linus’s career trajectory and possibly contributed to his marriage ending in divorce.

Returning to the present crisis, Linus balled up his tiny fists and looked briefly for something with which to attack Conrad’s gleaming new car. But the feeling of his small soft hands reminded him of his situation, and he forced himself to calm down. He moved toward the glass door of the building and soon stood under the camera, outside of its field of view. Linus held his badge to the RF reader, and the light turned green. He noticed his fingers. Are my nails already getting longer?

Linus slipped in the firm’s entrance and made his way as quickly as his petite feet would carry him toward the associates’ offices. He was passing through the lobby when a conference room door opened and he ran straight into Conrad.

“Bro! Back from the dead, I see!” Conrad had a smug expression on his handsome face and was clearly drunk. He was holding a highball glass and gesturing magnanimously, arms wide open, in the classic way drunks do. “You look pretty good for a guy who ate bad oysters.”

Linus stuffed his hands in his jeans and gritted his teeth. “It was clams.”

“Clams. Oysters. I don’t give a fuck what they were. Just glad to see my ol’ buddy buddy.” Conrad moved to put an arm around Linus’s shoulder.

Linus took a step back and looked around the corridor. “What are you doing here, Conrad?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” He took a swig from his glass. “My dear old pa-pa kicked the bucket last month. God rest his fucking soul.”

Linus softened his expression momentarily. “Sorry to hear that, Conrad. I liked your father.”

“Of course you liked him.” Conrad chuckled. “He got you your job here, didn’t he?”

“No. I mean it. He was a good man.” Linus’s ire returned, and his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just working out the details of my inheritance with my old friend Isaac. He just ran to get some papers for me to sign.” Conrad’s arrogant grin turned positively giddy. “Eighty million dollars by the end of the year and another fifty million once we sell everything else.”

Linus was appalled at Conrad’s lack of caring for his father and his absence of grief at his passing. He already despised Conrad, but in that moment, his hatred burned hotter than ever. However, much as Linus wanted to punch Conrad, he couldn’t. Not only would his new hands, Anna B’s hands, be ineffective, but it would defeat his whole reason for being in the building. No, I need to focus. Go to the bathroom and then get the password.

He wouldn’t attack the man, but he had to respond to Conrad’s comments. “Sounds like a lot of money for you to blow. Guess you’ve already started with that Porsche I saw parked outside.” Linus instinctively pulled his hand out of his pants pocket to point, but hastily shoved it back in. Conrad didn’t seem to notice.

“Yes, indeed. And you know what?” Conrad raised his now-empty whiskey glass to Linus. “I owe it all to you, compadre. Had I gone to jail eleven years ago, my wonderful father would have written me out of his will.”

Linus shook his head bitterly. “Don’t remind me of my mistake back then. I should never have passed that note to your attorney. You should have gone to jail back then.”

Conrad tutted sarcastically. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Linus. That note…and my case made you. You’d still be a poor chump in the public defender’s office if it weren’t for me. You owe me just as much as I owe you. I mean, I got you your job here, and then I fucked your wife. We’re even!”

Linus said nothing more, biting his lip and fighting for control of his emotions. He started past his nemesis, but Conrad blocked him, grabbing his shoulder and lowering his voice to a sympathetic tone. “Seriously, though, buddy, Beth should never have left you for that boob-job surgeon. I mean it.”

Linus stared at Conrad. He didn’t know what to say. Conrad had never said anything kind before. And coming from the man his ex-wife had cheated on him with, Linus wasn’t sure how to respond. Beth had gotten her breasts enhanced and ended up starting an affair with the surgeon. She left for California with the doctor after the divorce.

Conrad continued, the smug grin returning. “No. Beth should have left you for me instead. I have a lot more money now and even bigger dick than both of you…combined.” He roared with laughter at this, grabbing at his crotch.

Linus flushed red, about to lose control. All the tension over the last few days added to his state of instability. Fists balled up again in his pocket, he flinched toward Conrad as if he was going to attack him. They were about the same size, and Linus was sure he could have taken him…yesterday. But now.

In the end, Linus jerked his shoulder away from Conrad and moved down the hall, almost tripping in his small sandals as he looked back at the arrogant man still smiling like the devil at him.

Conrad called to him, “Hey, I was just messing with you. Don’t be such a tight-ass. Why don’t you come by my father’s mansion  — I mean my mansion  — on Thursday? It’s my birthday, and we’re having an all-day pool party. Guarantee you’ll get laid.”

Linus tried to ignore Conrad, determined to get to his office. And just when he thought he’d made it  — only fifteen feet away from his door  — out stepped Isaac from his adjacent office.

Echoing Conrad’s earlier greeting, Isaac exclaimed, “Look who’s here! Well, you don’t look too bad for a man sick with bad oysters.”

Linus bristled. “It was fucking clams.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Clams. I’ll try to keep that straight.” Isaac was holding a thick folder, with an alcohol-enhanced grin on his face, too.

Linus stared hard at Isaac. “Conrad, huh? Why do you put up with that guy? How do you do work for him?”

“His dad and mine were lifelong friends, and I’ve known him since we were on the crewing team at school. I know you hate Conrad, but…”

“But nothing! He’s an asshole, and you know it!” Linus was fuming. “You’re supposed to be my friend. And you are working for…” He again almost exposed his hands to gesture.

Isaac looked down at the folder, guiltily. “I know. I know what he did with Beth was shitty. But Mr. Washington wants me to handle this. I didn’t ask for it. Honest. I’d hoped I could get this done while you were ‘in the hospital’.” He’d air-quoted the last phrase.

“Whatever, dude. It’s your conscience.” Linus tried to move past. “I just need to get some Gulf Coast files and I’ll be on my way.”

Isaac tried to stop him. “Wait. I am sorry. Really. Let me get rid of…him. And then let’s grab something to eat. I want to hear all about Scarlett. She must be something amazing in the sack if you’re risking your job to be with her.”

“N…No, Isaac. I already ate, and I really am not feeling well. I just want to get those files and go home.” Linus was getting more and more nervous. Though the office was closed, anyone could still come in.

“Okay, man. Do you forgive me?” Isaac stuck out his large hand. A hand that seemed immense to Linus given recent events.

Linus froze. No way was he showing his hand to Isaac. He could see his slender new hand swallowed in Isaac’s. Linus shrugged again. “I forgive you.”

“Nope. Don’t bullshit me, man.” He swayed a little. “And I’m not leaving till you shake my hand, dude.”

Linus thought quickly. “You shook hands with Conrad, didn’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “No way I’m touching those filthy things!” He moved quickly past his friend toward his own office next door. But Linus moved a little too quickly. Still not used to his small feet, when he tripped this time, he didn’t regain his balance. He had to reach out to catch his fall, grabbing the knob of Isaac’s office door. He barely got his hands out of his pockets in time. In hindsight, it might have been better if he’d fallen.

Isaac called after him. “Watch out!” And then he said what Linus feared he’d say. “What the hell is wrong with your hands?!”

Linus didn’t answer. He regained his balance enough to stumble to his office door, stepping out of one sandal as he did. He made it inside and locked the door behind him.

Isaac tried to come in, rattling the doorknob. “What the hell is wrong with you, man? Your hands. They’re so small.” And then he said, obviously seeing the sandal. “And this can’t be your shoe. Looks like it belongs on a…girl.”

In a panic, Linus called back through the door. “You’re drunk, man. There is nothing wrong. Go take care of Conrad and then go home.”

Isaac pounded on the heavy door. “Open up, bud. I’m worried about you.”

“No, Isaac. Really. I’m fine. We’ll talk…we’ll talk tomorrow…once you’re sober.” Linus’s heart pounded in his chest. Please go. Please go. Please go!

After a full minute, he heard Isaac. “Alright, I’ll go. But we’ve gotta talk tomorrow for sure. Something is up with you. Something is all kinds of fucked up with you.”

Linus looked out his window. He couldn’t see Conrad’s and Isaac’s cars, but he’d be able to see them pull out when they left. After thirty endless minutes, the big black Land Rover turned right onto the street and drove off, followed by the Porsche, tires squealing as he peeled out onto the busy street. Linus slumped in his chair and put his head in his small hands. I’m losing control of my life.

He sat there until his bladder reminded him of the other reason he’d come into the building. So, Linus took a deep breath and got up. He opened his office door, looking both ways down the corridor. The Teva was propped up against the wall outside the office. He slipped his foot into it again and carefully made his way to the men’s room.

Returning from the bathroom, Linus got on with his mission. He searched in his file drawer and found the folder from his divorce. Written on the front of the folder were the login and password for the search program. Linus pulled out his phone and took a picture of the info, and then replaced the file.

He stood to leave, but as he neared the door, Linus noticed one of several framed pictures on the wall. It was he and Isaac and one of the female interns. It was at a Fourth-of-July party. He knew the setting. It was by the enormous pool at Mr. Washington’s estate along the Gulf. But that wasn’t why Linus stared, mouth agape.

In the picture were Linus and the girl, both wearing shorts, comparing their smooth legs side by side while Isaac ran his hands down each leg and mugged for the camera.

The caption under the picture said, “Linus wins smoothest leg contest…again.”

The hell?

===============================================

Chapter 7: The Search

Linus made it back home and poured a stiff glass of Scotch. He sat on the sofa, shaking, for several minutes, trying to deal with all that had happened at the office. With Conrad. With Isaac. The photo.

Eventually, his common sense and determination returned, and he decided to try the search software. He’d probably lost Isaac as a friend and maybe his job in the last two hours, so he might as well see if the password was still good. He powered on his laptop and voila! Slack security measures to the rescue! The old password was still valid.

Two hours of searching later, Linus had still found nothing useful. He’d tried every combination he could think of for Anna as a first name and middle name and had gone through every person with Anna in their name with a last name beginning with “B” within a hundred miles. There were plenty of hits, but a ninety-two-year-old woman in Cape Coral was not likely to be the Anna that Linus was looking for.

There were one or two close possibilities, but nothing matched up totally. Finally, at 11:15pm, he struck gold. A search revealed an Anna Bouknight Garcia, thirty-three, married to a Leslie V. Garcia, thirty-eight. Try as he might, he couldn’t find out what the “V” stood for. Could it be Valeria? It must be. It has to be. The address was in a swanky neighborhood called Fortis Garden.

Linus wanted to go over to the address right that minute. He picked up his keys and made it as far as the garage. He could probably get there before midnight. It was only about thirty minutes away. But Linus thought better of it. Or something in him did at least. It’s too late. If Anna wasn’t home or didn’t answer the door, and who could blame her given the time, then he’d be a long way from home when midnight came. Who knew what would happen?

Besides, in all of his research, he hadn’t considered what he’d say or do when he found Anna. No, Linus resigned himself to the changes to come that night. But, for the first time since he had woken up with Anna’s silky legs, he had hope. Linus considered searching social media to see if he could find out more about this Anna, but he was not in the mood to wade through the Meta mess just then. Besides, there was an urgency building for something else that was becoming impossible to ignore.

The one thing he had been fighting besides panic and anger was arousal. Unbelievably horny all day. Finding his soft hands in his pants or tweaking a nipple, he was constantly turned-on. It was like an incessant buzzing in his brain. His cock stayed hard and leaked pre-cum into his underwear to the point that he’d needed to change before going to the office earlier. He’d never felt this way before in his life, and he was convinced it had to be because of that journal. Was this Anna always looking for sex? It was because he believed the journal was the cause of his randiness that he resisted self-pleasure. But, in a moment of weakness and exhilaration from finding the Anna Garcia lead, Linus found himself in bed with his favorite lotion.

His tiny hands made his cock look huge, and he had to smile at that, at least. He imagined Scarlett and the “ride” she’d taken him on the night before at her hotel. At first, he thought he’d make short work of this “problem” using Scarlett as his fantasy. But something was interfering, and he couldn’t get off. Linus was about to give up when an image of a woman he’d never met before leaped into his brain. She was Hispanic…and stacked. He imagined her there with him, licking his feet and attacking his crotch. Linus felt her tugging at his nipples and then, boom! He came with such force that he bounced up off the bed. As his cock softened in his sticky new slender hand, he began to cry.

Linus felt overwhelming emotional exhaustion on top of by post-orgasm drowsiness. It was 11:40pm. All he’d been through in these last two days was just too much, and he drifted off. He jerked awake once, then a second time. He fought the mental fatigue. I want to make it to midnight! I don’t want to miss it! I want to face this head-on!

But he could not stay awake. Midnight found a sleeping Linus. He missed the changes that would further reshape his world.

===============================================

Tuesday morning came in with a literal bang. Loud thunder woke Linus from his sleep at 8am, and heavy rain could be heard on the tile roof of his bungalow. And he knew immediately what had happened as he found himself staring through a massive head of curly hair. Red hair. No. Auburn hair. He sighed, realizing the hair was likely only part of what the day brought.

As he sat up, a sense of incredible lightness was his first sensation. He was a feather. And he was tiny. Dangling his smooth legs off the side of the bed, his feet not coming close to the floor, Linus shuddered. He then put his hands to his face and nearly shrieked at what he saw. His long fingernails were back. And they were pink again.

A sense of helplessness overwhelmed the now-small man. He was not in control. He felt not just physically weak, but powerless in what was being done to him. Even the promise of the solid lead to find Anna Garcia seemed meaningless now.

It was then that his phone rang. It was his assistant Julie. This was the moment. Or at least it was “a” moment of truth. If he answered the phone, it meant he wasn’t giving up. It meant he wanted to save his job and have a life to go back to when this was all over. When he found this Anna, or whoever was behind these changes, and got his life back, this could be the moment he remembered.

If he let it go to voicemail, it meant he had given up. He’d simply let the journal finish its work. He wouldn’t even try to find this Anna Garcia. And soon he’d no longer be Linus. Maybe no longer exist at all.

Linus had to stretch out a long way across his now oversized bed to reach the phone. His arms had shrunk, too, both in length and mass. Once he had the phone in his small hand, he paused over the answer button just like he’d hovered over the journal icon on Friday. Except the hovering finger was very different. The finger this morning was the gorgeous pink-nailed finger of a woman he did not know. No matter what the finger looked like, though, Linus had to decide quickly what to do with it.

“Hey, Julie.” He heard his voice. It sounded strange. It wasn’t high like a woman’s, but it didn’t have the resonance it used to have. I guess losing a foot in height can cause that.

“You don’t sound good, bright eyes. How are you feeling? Are you out of the hospital?”

 “Um. No. Not getting out today. Hopefully released tomorrow. They are still running some tests.” He hated the new sound of his voice. It was somewhere between a munchkin and a man breathing helium.

“Well, everyone is asking about you. Did you get the flowers and balloons?”

Oh shit. They sent flowers! “Yeah. Yeah. Really brightened my day! Thanks!” He started to tear up again. “Look, Julie, they are taking me for an X-ray. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Hopefully, from home.” He ended the call. I should have just let it go to voicemail. It didn’t matter.

As he surveyed his bedroom, the immensity struck him. Losing height didn’t just make everything higher. It seemed to make it all bigger. Linus thought, I’m not only shorter, I’m literally smaller.

Buying clothes for his new size might have prepared him to be covered, but it didn’t prepare him in any other way for the reality of this change. He’d gone from being one of the biggest men in any room to the smallest.

Linus hopped down from the bed, landing softly on his tiny feet. He stood for a moment taking in his surroundings.

As he walked, his stride felt both normal and alien to him. He covered far less ground with each step now, and it only added to how big his house now felt. But yet, walking was easier than yesterday. His feet were the right size for his body now.

Before, Linus had never used a stepladder. Now he would need one to reach almost anything. Fortunately, the coffee supplies were on the counter, and five-foot-one was still tall enough for that. Also on the counter was the eReader. He dreaded seeing what today’s entry would be, and he decided to wait to find out. Seeing the eReader, its light blinking at him mockingly, woke up his resolve. Linus had work to do. He was going to find Anna…today.

With coffee and a muffin consumed, he made his way to the bathroom to face the day. Part of him felt like he was just pointlessly going through the motions. But there was a part that burned deep within him that would not give up.

He kept trying to maintain a sense of normalcy and calm. Like Julie had said years ago, “Unlike your fiery green eyes, the rest of you is cool and calm.” Wait a minute. That’s not what she said. My eyes were blue. She said I was cool like my steel-blue eyes. He tried to figure out why he had that additional, distinct memory. I guess if she always thought my eyes were green…

Linus was now even more shaken and scared as his memories seemed to be changing as well as his body. But something in that slightly altered memory kicked him into gear. It strengthened his determination further to find Anna and figure out how to “grow up” again and reclaim his life. I won’t lose who I am to this.

He struggled to strip out of his much too large T-shirt. Though his body volume was greatly reduced, the volume of hair on his head more than made up for it. It also didn’t help that he was far weaker than he had been. Suppose I have Anna’s muscles, too.

Bucking the trend of “smaller,” there was one part of him that was certainly just as big as always, and, unlike his voice, no less manly. His formerly larger-than-average cock now looked positively immense on his new diminutive frame. Hanging from his new small body added to the relative impressiveness. I wonder if I can make it proportionally bigger when I get back to my regular height? If I get back there…

Stepping into the shower now became climbing in. And Linus had to jump to reach the showerhead in order to aim it downward to hit his head. Never having had long hair, he hadn’t thought this part through, though. Once wet, his hair became very heavy. Washing it was difficult, as getting shampoo in and out took forever. He could go get it all cut off, but why bother? Judging by his fingernails, it would be right back like this again the next day.

Linus’s beautiful fingers passed by his eyes repeatedly as he washed his new hair, and it triggered a reaction. Seeing a woman’s hand that way, his cock rose to full attention. Along with it, his large nipples began to extend, too. They always seemed to become erect in perfect synchronization with his cock.

Linus’s hand found his left nipple. The long nail pinching the tip in an unexpectedly erotic way, he closed his eyes, biting his lip. Horniness again supplanted his worry, and he found pleasure in imagining himself making love to Scarlett. His long nails felt electric as he gently scratched around his engorged areola. As if by predetermined agreement, Linus’s other delicate hand moved from his soapy hair to his cock. He moaned softly as the delayed pleasure grew and grew till he thought he’d pass out.

But, as in bed the previous night, it took an invasive image of this mysterious Latina woman to bring him to climax. She joined Scarlett in his fantasy, each attending to one of his two erogenous zones, their soft dream fingers mimicked by his own real ones. And with that threesome in mind, he orgasmed with such mind-blowing intensity that he nearly fell in the shower.