Mutation - Part 11
by Melanie Brown
Copyright  © 2022 Melanie Brown

Switcher Mutation

 

---

 

“Are you going to sleep all day?”

“Mmrphhh…?” was all I could muster in response.

The covers were suddenly and unceremoniously jerked from my bed exposing me to the vicious blast of morning sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. “Time to get up, sleepyhead,” said Mom slightly annoyed.

I stuck my head under my pillow and mumbled, “It’s Saturday. I get to sleep in on Saturdays!”

I was suddenly assaulted with tickles. Mom giggled, “You need to get up, munchkin. Oliver will be here in about an hour and a half and you still need a bath.”

Curling up into a ball trying to evade the tickle onslaught, I cried out, “Okay! Okay! You win. I’m getting up. So stop already!”

Mom said, “I’m filling the tub now. So get your little butt in there.”

I sat up on my bed. “I had a bath last week.” I sniffed my armpit. “I think I’m still good.”

Trying to look stern, Mom said, “Just march yourself into the bathroom. Now, young lady. March.”

I slid off my bed and gave Mom a salute. “Rodger, rodger.” Mom followed me into the bathroom. I said, “I’m here. Happy?”

Mom turned the water off. The tub was full of bubbles. She said, “Use soap this time. Sometimes I think I’m raising a boy.” She then hung a fresh towel and handed me a washcloth. “I’ll lay your clothes out on your bed for you. Don’t spend all day in the tub.” She turned and left me alone in the bathroom, but she left the door open I guess so she could make sure I didn’t drown.

I giggled at being surrounded by bubbles. This wasn’t the first bubble bath I’d had since becoming a girl, but I didn’t get one every time. My real mom stopped giving me bubble baths was probably around twelve saying I was too old for such things. Are you really ever too old for a bubble bath?

I scrubbed my face extra hard though I did wash it before going to bed. I wanted to be sure I had all the make-up from last night washed off.

I was splashing around when Mom yelled through the door, “Honey. You need to get out of the tub and get dressed. Oliver called. He’ll be here in half an hour.”

I frowned as I kept splashing around for a few more minutes. The bubbles had long since dissipated. I looked at my wrinkly finger tips. Yeah, I guess I’d been in the tub too long. I really wasn’t all that excited about going to lunch with this Oliver character. I hadn’t seen him since that time at the mall.

I hit the drain lever and sat in the tub and watched the water swirl and gurgle down the drain. I climbed out of the tub and dried off with the big towel Mom had left me. As I rubbed myself with the towel, I tried to remember what I went as last Halloween. I couldn’t remember. All I could think of was a grumpy old man. I scowled into the bathroom mirror and shook my first. “Get off my lawn!” I then giggled. I hadn’t given any thought to dressing up this year.

I padded into my room and found a floral print dress on my bed along with pink panties and my training bra. I picked up the bra and frowned at it. I shook my non-existent boobage and shouted, “Run free!” I sighed. Mom would just yell at me if I don’t wear it.

I picked up the dress and yelled, “Moommm! Nobody wears a dress to the rat shack!” Rat Shack being a colloquial term the kids used for Chuckles the Rat. What times I’d been there, I’d never seen any little girls wearing dresses.

Mom walked into my room wearing a matching sun dress. “Did you say something, honey?”

I just looked at Mom for a moment, sighed and said, “No. It’s nothing.”

Pointing at my dress, Mom said, “Hurry up and get dressed. We don’t want to keep Oliver and his nephew waiting when he gets here.”

While we waited, Mom braided my hair. As she worked on my hair, I wondered when did I start thinking of Dede as Mom? It just seemed to evolve. I almost never not only say “Dede”, I never think it, either.

As she finished the braid, I asked, “So Mom. Do you have any regrets about taking on the care of a little girl?”

Mom looked at me and asked, “And what little girl is that?”

I put my hands on my hips and exclaimed, “Me!”

Mom giggled. “Oh. That little girl. No. Of course not, honey. It’s a lot easier than taking care of a sixty-five year old grumpy man.”

I folded my arms and said, “Bull! I could take care of myself then!”

Mom grinned at me. “At least now I don’t have to change your diaper and help you find your teeth.”

I shook my head. “You did not!”

Before Mom could answer, the doorbell rang. Mom grunted as she stood up. “I bet that’s Oliver now.”

I frowned. “About time!”

Mom turned to face me. “I expect you to be on your best behavior, Chrystal. I want you to be a perfect little lady.”

I followed Mom to the door. When she opened it, there stood Oliver, looking apologetic. “Hi honey,” said Oliver just before giving Mom a kiss. He said, “Sorry I’m late. There was an accident on Parkway that I had to detour around.” He suddenly seemed to notice me. He bent down to address me. “And hello Miss Chrystal. You look very pretty today matching your mother’s dress. Are you ladies ready? My nephew is waiting in the car.”

Mom smiled and walked to the couch. “Let me get my purse.” She looked over at me and said, “Don’t forget your purse.”

I shrugged. “Why take it? It’s empty. Is it for sneaking pizza out?” That’s when I really noticed that my dress matched Mom’s. She was wearing white sandals and so was I. Is this a girl thing? Daughter dressing like the mother? I guess it was the same thing with my dad. We’d both wear worn out jeans and t-shirts with holes in them.

Mom shook her head and turned to Oliver. “All set. Let’s go.”

Mom got into the front seat with Oliver. I took the backseat with the nephew. Mom turned to look at the kid strapped into a car seat and said, “Oh, isn’t he a cutie! What’s his name?”

Oliver started the car and said, “That’s Zane.”

Zane looked over at me and asked, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Chrystal. Are you in school yet?” I asked.

Zane nodded. “First grade.”

“I’m stuck in fifth grade,” I said with a frown.

Zane gave me an odd look. “I like school. I think it’s fun.”

I laughed. “Just give it time.”

I turned to just look out my window. I really doubted I’d have much of a conversation with a six year old. Mom and Oliver were having an animated conversation about something. Oliver had turned the music volume up in the back so it made it difficult to hear anything from up front. I resented being considered to be just a child. I looked over at Zane who smiled at me. I’m doing the same thing to him that Dede and Oliver are doing to me. I turned back to the window.

After a few minutes, we finally drove up to Chuckles. I got out of the car and stood next to Mom while Oliver extracted Zane. She took my hand.

Finally we were all standing in front of the entrance. Oliver, sounding excited exclaimed, “Alright! Let’s go get some pizza!” I guessed he’s never eaten here before as the pizza is sub-par. But it’s perfect for kids, right? What do we know?

After Oliver paid, we were all forced to get the back of our hands stamped with a number and date. I remembered on the news before I switched, someone in another state had tried to walk out with a child that wasn’t theirs. Now you have to put your hand under a blacklight to leave.

As we walked up to the buffet, you couldn’t help but notice the frightenly over-sized rat on the stage singing a dumb song about pizza. I think even Zane realized the rat was animatronics.

As I added several slices of over-cooked pizza on my plate, Mom being a mom leaned down to me and said, “Isn’t this fun?” I smiled and nodded.

Oliver found us a place to sit. I looked across the room at the arcade which took up at least a third of the floor space. Maybe more. I was actually excited about hitting the arcade. The rat always had the latest and greatest arcade games. And all of them actually worked! I prayed I wouldn’t have to drag that brat Zane with me.

As I finished off my first slice of pizza, tasting the old familiar metallic tang I remembered from the last time I was here, Mom said, “After you finish your pizza, you go to the games if you want to. Be sure to take Zane with you.” Terrific.

The robot rat was hidden by the curtain and an unfortunate employee in a rat suit came out and was mobbed by kids who thought he was real. Apparently including Zane who ran squealing to the rat.

Mom looked at me with a smile and asked, “Don’t you want to go say hi to Chuckles?” Embarrassed, I just shook my head.

I did take advantage of the distraction caused by the rat to move my remaining three slices of pizza to Zane’s plate. In a voice I couldn’t help from sounding whiny, I said, “Mom! I finished my pizza. Can I go to the arcade now?” Why am I asking permission? I should just go.

Mom shook her head. “No honey. Wait for Zane to finish his too.” I looked over at Zane who was still jumping up and down by the rat.

I leaned back in my seat and folded my arms. I muttered, “That’s not fair.” Mom went back to chatting with Oliver.

I sat there for a few minutes scowling at the pizza on Zane’s plate. How ironic I’m the instrument of my own fate by adding extra pieces on top of his. Maybe I can speed things along by taking back a few slices. I didn’t really want to eat them. Maybe just toss them on the floor.

As I reached for the plate, Mom slapped my fingers. She actually slapped my fingers! As if I was a child or something!

“Leave his pizza alone!” scolded Mom. “If you’re still hungry, there’s still plenty of pepperoni at the buffet. You know better than that!”

I leaned back in my seat, folded my arms tighter against my chest and scowled furiously at Zane’s plate. I thought how she didn’t care when I added pizza to his plate. I looked over at the game area and there was nobody playing the game I wanted most to play. I stared daggers at Zane who continued to fawn over the Rat.

Finally, Zane came bouncing back to his seat after the poor slub in the Rat costume finally retreated behind the curtain. Grinning and laughing, Zane exclaimed, “Uncle Oliver! I got to say hi to Chuckles!”

Oliver smiled back at him and said, “That’s great, kiddo.”

Zane picked up a slice of pizza and gnawed off two bites before setting down on his plate. “Uncle Oliver, can I go play games now?”

“Sure. Go ahead, big guy,” said Oliver as he ruffled Zane’s hair and handed him a cup filled with game tokens. With several slices of pizza still on his plate, my and Dede’s mom would have lectured us about starving Armenians.

Mom handed me four… count ‘em, four tokens. “Can you keep an eye on Zane and help him out? Here’s a few tokens for you.”

I stared at the four tokens in the palm of my hand. The game I wanted to play took six tokens, filthy thieves. In a whiny voice, I asked, “Can I have a few more?”

Mom said, “We’ll see.” A statement universally known to mean “No.” Since I just stood there, she wiggled her fingers and said, “Scoot.” Frowning, I turned to follow Zane.

I kept a close eye on Zane as he took one or two tokens from his cup to play the less than exciting kiddie games. I know it’s wrong and I will probably be consigned to hell over it, but I was hoping to swipe at least two tokens from Zane’s cup. I looked over at the game I wanted and was dismayed that an older boy was playing it. He had placed a stack of tokens next to the controllers to stake his claim to the console. I give up.

There was another game I liked to play where you tried to kill wave after wave of zombies. A boy about my age was playing it, but he was on his last life and was about to go out. I wanted to play something, so I placed my meager four tokens on top of the game to let Pimple Farm know of my intention to take the game as soon as he expended his last life.

I muttered “So die already!” to myself as the geeky boy was taking way too long to die. As I was watching him take down several zombies, I felt someone brush against me and heard a giggle. I looked down and my four tokens were gone!

I spun around and saw Zane drop four tokens into his cup. Grinning he said, “They’re mine now!”

I reached for his hand, but he turned, laughing. “Come back here, you son of a…” A very stern looking mother type turned to glare at me. “… son of a biscuit eater!” The woman just harrumphed at me.

Zane almost fell as he tripped over a younger kid, spilling a few tokens. I shouted, “Give me back my tokens, you little creep!” He scooped up the dropped tokens and ran giggling in the opposite direction. I quickly gave chase.

Zane darted past a girl about his age, almost knocking her down and she started to cry. I started to rush past when apparently her mother stepped in front of me, picked up her daughter and scowled at me. “This is not how young ladies act!”

I growled, “Buzz off…” and resumed running after Zane.

Zane left the game area and started to run between tables. He bumped some kid causing him to drop his pizza. As I ran past, I shouted, “Sorry!”

To me the kid said, “Fuck you!”

The kid’s mother shouted, “Charles!” I didn’t stick around to hear any more.

As Zane got close to Mom and Oliver, he stumbled and fell against Oliver knocking his drink over and dropping his token cup, spilling tokens all over the floor. Breathless, I caught up to Zane.

Mom turned angrily and snapped her fingers at me. She snapped her fingers at me! What the hell? She grabbed my arm and growled at me, “You need to settle down, young lady! What were you thinking? Sit down! You got your dress dirty!”

An employee walked up to Oliver. In a quiet voice she said, “Sir, we have a policy against running in the restaurant. If you can’t control your children, you’ll be asked to leave.”

Looking sheepish, Oliver said, “I’m very sorry miss. It won’t happen again.” The girl nodded and walked away.

Looking sternly at Zane, Oliver said, “Zane! What’s gotten into you? Why was Chrystal chasing you?”

Before Zane could answer, I said, “He stole my game tokens!” The tokens were still all over the floor.

“I did not!” protested Zane.

“You did too!” I shouted and started to stand up. “You little…”

Mom pointed a finger at me and said firmly, “Sit!”

Clearly uncomfortable in a parenting situation, Oliver asked me, “How many tokens did Zane take from you?”

I almost said four. Trying to keep my poker face, I said confidently, “He took six.”

To Zane, Oliver said, “Give Chrystal her tokens back.”

Looking confused, Zane said, “I think it was only four.”

Looking frustrated, Oliver said sternly, “Give Chrystal her tokens back. Now.”

Looking unhappy, Zane bent down and collected six tokens and handed them to me. He whispered, “Liar.”

I closed my fist on the tokens in my hand and whispered to Zane, “Thief!”

Oliver took the cup of tokens Zane had collected from the floor and said, "I think I’m going to play some games!”

Zane cried out, “Uncle Oliver!”

I just stood there, my eyes boring a hole in Mom’s head. Mom frowned and said, “Oh, go play your game. It’s time to go.”

Grinning, I said, “Thanks, Mom!” and clutching my tokens, I hurried, but not running, over to the game machine.

Mr. Pimple Farm had just lost at the game leaving it open for me to pounce on it. As I was about to drop my first token into the slot, a somewhat familiar voice behind me said, “Girls can’t play that game. You should play a sissy game.”

I turned to look at who had just spoken such profanity. It was Timmy Johnson from my fifth grade class. I grinned. “Wanna bet?”

Timmy plopped his tokens down on top of the machine and said, “Stand back, girl and let a man show you how it’s done!” I laughed out loud.

Still standing by the game with my token hovering over the slot, I said, “It’s a two player game, squirt. I’m calling you out. First player out loses.” This was one of those games that likes to rob the player. You don’t get any extra lives to start. If you die, you have to add more tokens to stay in the game.

Timmy walked up to me and said in all seriousness, “I came here to eat pizza and play video games and I’m all out of pizza.”

I started dropping my tokens in the slot. “You’re on, Shorty.” Timmy is taller than me.

We pulled our pistols from the holsters and took our ready positions. I could tell from the grim mask that settled on Timmy’s face that he was a true gamer. This wasn’t just some pastime. Gaming was serious business.

The game started and Timmy immediately took out three targets, one of which was supposed to have been mine. The game’s volume was cranked up which was perfect for the explosions. And the sound track is awesome.

If you get shot, you can shoot a health pack to restore some health, but they are few and far between. Back and forth, we’d trade off being in the lead. When we hit the midway point in the game and Timmy was up on points, I was beginning to wonder if I’d met my match. Timmy was good. A group of kids had gathered around to watch us play. From behind me, some boy said, “That chick plays pretty good… you know for a girl.”

The action paused for a moment as it built up suspense to meet the final boss. My hands were clammy and I felt a trickle of sweat run down my side. I was told girls didn’t sweat.

And suddenly the screen was a blur of activity. Targets were everywhere. Shots were flying from all directions. The music was pounding. The explosions were deafening. Some girl in the back said, “Somebody die already! I have to pee.”

A target surprised me and my shot went wild and I was hit with my health at its lowest. I went out of the game just as Timmy killed the boss. The music ramped up and across the screen the words splashed, “Congratulations Player 1!” There was actually applause from around the room. This game is rarely defeated.

Timmy raised his fists in the air and shouted “Yes!”

Exhausted, I looked at Timmy. “Good game, dude.” He hesitated a second and then we bumped knuckles.

Breathing hard, Timmy said, “Thanks. And you too. Man. One more second and I would have been dead myself.”

An employee walked up to Timmy and handed him a card. “Your next visit to Chuckles the Rat is on us.”

Timmy pumped his fist into the air and shouted, “Awesome!”

Timmy then turned to look at me. He grinned and said, “See? I told you girls can’t play that game.” He then laughed. “But seriously, Chrystal, that was a good run.” Several of his friends patted him on the back and they all waked back to his table.

I just stood there. Oliver said, “Well that was fun. Time to go home.”

Mom said, “I’ve got your purse. Let’s go.”

As we started to walk towards Oliver’s car, Mom asked, “Did you know that boy?”

I looked over at Mom and asked, “What boy?”

Frowning, Mom said, “That boy you were playing the game with.”

“Ah. That boy,” I said with a shrug. “That was Timmy. He’s in my class at school,”

As Mom opened the back door so I could climb in, she asked, “Do you like him?”

I climbed into the car and said, “I dunno. He’s a good gamer. I guess not all boys are icky.”

Mom gave me a wry smile. “That’s very true.” She closed my door and gave Oliver a kiss before they both got inside the car.

*          *          *

To be continued…