Jon sat on the bed, waiting. It was almost frustrating, except that the wish for him to sit and wait kept him from acting, or even making plans. He could reach for his phone, but the idea of texting Karyn seemed to be impossible to wrap his mind around. He could do some mindless scrolling, and play some music, but not DO anything. Waiting was all he could actually do. He really couldn’t even worry about what Sarah was getting up to. He was sure she was doing something, but nothing seemed to really affect him.
An itch on his scalp was the first indication that something was happening. His hair then exploded from his head and draped around his shoulders neatly. He wished he had his brush. The repetitive task of combing out his hair was a good thing to do while waiting.
Jon froze, as he realized the new thoughts that had seemed so natural, as if he’d always had hair this long. He hadn’t though. He wore his hair short. Not a buzz cut or anything drastic, but he kept it pretty short. Or had, rather. He could feel the memories of having long hair were there, ready for him to call them up. The knowledge that he was once short haired was there, but it felt further away, somehow.
Trying to understand his memories was enough of a distraction that Jon didn’t feel the makeup appear on his face, or his legs becoming shaven, or his skin softening. They were, to be fair, smaller changes than shoulder length hair, and as far as his body was concerned, it had always been like this. He did notice the door opening as Sarah came back into the room.
“Sorry for the delay, Jon-jon. There was just so much to see and find. And I’m excited to show you the treasures I found for you. But first, I just have to say, I love the look! Black lipstick and the eyeshadow go great with that hair! We just need to do something about the rest of you. Which starts with this!”
Sarah reached into the bag and withdrew something that Jon instantly recognized with a looming sense of dread.
“Tada! One bra. Borrowed from your sister. But, perhaps, it's just one that she was borrowing.” Sarah opened the top drawer of the dresser and placed the bra inside, and closed it. There was a ripple as reality updated. Jon felt a sudden weight on his chest. Sarah peeked into his bra drawer with a smirk.
“There we go, Jon-jon. Your sister must have been borrowing that. You share a bra size, right? Does she ever tease you about her being younger with the same size as you.”
Jon grimaced. “Yeah, sometimes she- wait, I’m not supposed to have breasts! Sarah, what are you doing?”
“Mostly just having fun and playing around,” Sarah said with a smile. “It’s so interesting that your first instincts are from the new reality, even if you know what’s going on. But as much as your body is about right, we still have some work to do.”
Jon sat as Sarah opened a drawer and began pulling out pants. Pair after pair of long pants and shorts went into the bag, which never seemed to get bigger. After the third pair, Sarah stopped.
“Work smarter, not harder, right? Getting rid of all your pants is too much work for me. I mean, I could do it, but is it really worth my time? The end result certainly is, but I’m less sure about the effort.” Sarah paused, composing a wish, then pulled the stone out of her purse. “I wish that I could snap my fingers like Mary Poppins and clothes and toys and things would march and arrange themselves how I want. That should do it.”
Sarah snapped her fingers and the room erupted into movement. All of Jon’s pants, including the ones he was wearing, began to move, marching toward the bag that she held open. Some were quick to get there, like the ones near the open drawer that could just leap into the air and into the bag. Others, like the pair on Jon that needed to first unbutton the shimmy down his legs where they could then head towards the bag took longer. The slowest was a pair buried at the bottom of the laundry basket that had to claw and climb its way up to the top, looking a bit like a zombie climbing up out of the grave. All of the pants, the shorts, the slacks, all marched obediently to the bag, and one by one, it was as if they had never belonged to Jon. When the last entered the bag, she turned back to Jon with a triumphant smile plastered across her face.
"Sarah!" Jon let his pent-up frustration out. "Whatever you did, fix it!"
Triumph turned to sly as Sarah slinked over to the bed. "And what is it, exactly, that you think I did?"
Jon just glared.
"Hah! You don't even know, do you? I bet you don't even remember the last time you wore any pants."
Jon blinked. Was that it? Was that why he couldn't picture himself fully dressed? Could he remember the last time he wore pants? He certainly remembered seeing other people wearing pants.
"What were you doing," Sarah pressed, "the last time you wore pants? Or shorts?"
"I…" Jon couldn't think of an answer. “I wear shorts during gym.”
Sarah just laughed. “Of course, of course. I couldn’t get to those ones. Poor things, probably all locked up, trying to get out of their little locker room cage, unable to join their brothers in arms. Or legs, I guess.
"It's not funny! How am I supposed to go out in public without pants?"
"Well, I'm out in public," Sarah gave an overly-dramatic curtsey, "and I'm not wearing pants."
"That's because you're wearing a skirt," Jon spat.
“That is a very excellent point.” Sarah said with a smirk. She reached into the bag. “You’ll never guess what I have for you!” She pulled the black skirt that looked like most of the skirts that Zoe wore from the bag and went to the closet.
“I’m really curious as to how this works, Jon-jon. When you take all of something from someone, and give them something to put in its place…” Sarah put the skirt on a hanger, and held her breath as she hung the hanger back in the closet. As she did, reality rippled with an update, and the closet was full of skirts, most of them black, with a few different sizes. Jon was wearing a skirt now too.
“Perfect! It works perfectly! You might not realize what just happened, Jon, but it really laid the foundation for the rest of your new look. But enough about that, bag time!” Sarah snapped her fingers three times and the clothing in the room erupted into motion again. This time, it wasn’t the vanished pants answering the call, but the t-shirt Jon was wearing began to wriggle, trying to climb off his frame. He fought with it, trying to help it off of him, but it seemed to be some mindless object that didn’t really get the concept of teamwork. By the time he had it off, Sarah had the bag open and all of Jon’s t-shirts were lined up to take their turns hopping into the bag. There were also a bunch of socks in line and his shoes as well.
There was a knock at the door, sounding more like a kick. Sarah looked up from the line she was managing. “I’m a bit busy Jon, could you get that?” Jon, in a bit of a daze, nodded and went to his bedroom door. This is all probably a dream, he thought. At the door were his sneakers that his mom insisted he not wear through the house. They walked step by step as if an invisible person was wearing them, but one went through Jon’s legs and the other around. One by one, they all jumped into the bag, until they were all gone. It was hard to remember what they were, to keep being dressed in just a skirt and bra in front of Sarah from feeling natural. Sarah, of course, wasn’t going to leave him hanging for long.
“Let’s complete the look, Jon-jon. A few more gifts from your family.” And out from the bag came a pair of black tights, and the costume elements of the tied plaid shirt and the cowboy boots. But the bag had no concept of Halloween, just the context of where things were put. So being put in the closet was enough context for it. The ripple of reality spun and Jon was dressed like he normally did for school. Sometimes, there were things he changed up here and there, but this was his normal look.
"Jon! You look amazing!" Sarah squealed. She hadn't really had a plan, so this was working better than she could have hoped.
