Mikey had sown a wind with his wish, and the town -- and reality around the town -- was reaping the whirlwind.
As the chain reaction from the wish continued, fundamentally new people appeared, with them a complete revision of the present and past. When someone stepped into another's life, he or she did not come as a tabula rosa onto which the other's personality and body was written wholesale. Parts of the old person survived, merging with the new identity and making a brand-new person, with a brand-new past.
For example, Deborah Casey was an attractive, but stern and humorless woman, an only child whose parents had expected more of her than going into education. Deborah had felt stymied, dead-ended in a job she'd seen as a stepping-stone to superintendent. Her teachers respected her for her competence and intelligence, but no one really liked her.
June Casey, on the other hand, had bits of Jon left in her -- his stubborn courage, his good-naturedness, his general love of humanity, and his high cheekbones and slightly more angular face -- so that June was not just Deborah by a different name. She'd wanted to be a teacher, and eventually a principal, because she liked kids, and she wanted to help them grow and develop. When her parents had objected, she'd pushed back, and she and they were stronger for it. Those higher cheekbones and angles made attractive Deborah Casey into heartbreakingly beautiful June Casey. Her inner decency and charity made June both respected and loved by her teachers and staff.
In fact, Mark Stevenson had loved her so much that he had transferred to another school before asking her out, just so she wouldn't be uncomfortable about it. And she loved him for it.
The sudden addition of Michelle Casey -- June's baby sister, whom she held in the hospital -- had changed things even more. Not only was June Michelle's idol growing up -- Michelle only had the courage to go to law school because she was sure June would in her shoes -- but now June did not merely like kids, she wanted one of her own. With Mark.
Derica Warren was a happier -- and more adventurous! -- young woman than Lydia Warren had ever been. Her lips were a shade thinner, and she kept her hair in a cute bob instead of the sweeping waves of her predecessor.
The changes weren't always for the better: The former Anne Nygen brought the same ruthless efficiency to bullying that she had to running the principal's office. Rachelle Donaldson was, simply, a bit of a slut, rather than the free spirit her predecessor had been. (The line may be fine between the two, but Rachelle had taken a running leap over it during college and never looked back.)
In fact, while Mikey had been preoccupied watching his brother transform into his future sister, the rate of change -- present and past -- had accelerated.
