She palmed it. The stone somehow snuck its way out of Jon’s pocket, onto the kitchen island, and into the hands of Linda, never forcing itself, just making itself nearby. She didn’t even notice, grabbed it like it was hers, being far too engaged complaining about her aerobics trainer to realize the world shaping power in her grip.
Jon wasn’t listening, tuning out his mom in the usual way only teenage boys can manage. He had no reason to, too busy drawing traps and a clockwork dungeon map he’d been dreaming up. He had no way of knowing how important the next few words coming from his mom would be.
“I don’t know Gina, I just don’t feel like anything’s working. I keep ending up with these trainers that are too nice and more worried about selling me a supplement or just making sure I come to more lessons. Or they’re like Leslie who’s too busy trying to be an ‘influencer’ to actually coach and run a class. I need a good motivator.”
The stone absorbed all this context, almost eagerly, as it waited for the words on the tip of Linda’s tongue.
“I’m just at my wits end and tired of doing this alone. I just wish I had one person in my life who actually gets why losing this weight is so hard for me and actually cares about keeping me honest and accountable. I feel like everyone nowadays is either an influencer or trying to sell something-- No, no, I’m not saying you G. This has nothing to do with BoosterGreens, you’ve always said how-- G, honey, I might have to call you back.”
There was a loud snap, crackle, and pop that instantly pulled Linda's attention. It did not come from the soggy, oversaturated mess in Jon’s cereal bowl. It did not, in fact, occur before his mother’s wish, as Jon may have perceived. The sounds of his shifting body reaching his ears and registering more quickly than Linda’s words from across the room.
Jon had just come up with the perfect use of a mimic in his gear-shifting-library-themed dungeon, when he heard that initial snap. The snap of bones shortening, rearranging, and shifting into new shapes and angles. The snap of a pelvis adjusting its pitch and opening to match the width of a 43 year old mother of three.
An instant after was the crackle. The crackle of masses of microscopic cells sizzling away. The crackle of youthful, collagen rich skin melting away at the touch of its replacement- something softer, saggier, and often moisturized. The burning crackle of new flesh and tissue forming from nothingness while others fizzled to oblivion
And the pop. It was of nothing in particular, just the loud final confirmation of everything fitting together perfectly. Like a house settling into its foundation, it was a pop signaling every thing had found its place. Every supple odd and curvy end fit nice and snug. A pop that would bring satisfaction, if the stone could feel such a thing, on a job perfectly done in wish granting. In a fraction of an instant, Jon had become an exact copy of his mother from the neck down.
Somewhere in-between the above nonsense, Jon heard his mother’s wish. His ears perked up at the W word, as a natural precautionary raction to the word. But by the time he had looked up and back down, before he could even consider checking his pocket for the stone, he had an entirely different body. One that had stretched out the front of his shirt and obstructed the view of the graph paper he was just drawing on. With something soft. Soft and verrrry jiggly.
"G, honey, I might have to call you back.”
Jon’s brain was slow on the uptake, obviously overloaded with all sorts of new sensory input. My nails look weird and mom looks scared were processed and taken in stride with no usual flippancy. Emotional reactions were buried under an Everest of new sensations.
He stood up. The drop was further than he expected. Blood rushed to his head. The room was spinning with an increased velocity and it became impossible to focus on just one thing. His eyes were getting heavy.
Thud was the last part. Snap, crackle, pop, and the THUD of a lightheaded Jon passing out and falling limply to the floor. A mental timeout was probably for the best.
