A boy of 13 rotated back to 10 and around and around. Trapped, although on sunnier days he can glimpse 18.
To come back here to live? Permanently? Never to leave again? That could be an answer.
“I’m not 10, I’m 13. Legal age to work where I come from.”
Baker Bloch looks down at the filled in paperwork. “I see: Bennington. Rough place. Describe your childhood.”
George knew he didn’t have a childhood. Only 10 to 13 to 10 and back and back and back. Except for the glimpses. “Oh, you know, the usual.”
“Gangs?” queries the male Baker.
“Couple,” spoke George honestly. “Bands we call them.”
Baker sensed the interview was over. “We have one more applicant. We’ll be making a decision very soon. Thanks for your time in coming in.” Baker was thinking: we were really looking for a different kind of shapeshifter but this could be handy too. He rechecked George’s phone number before releasing him back into the world.
“Describe your shapeshifting abilities.” Baker knew this was a crucial point.
“Wellll… I have a dog one, if that’s what you’re interested in. Could be handy for, I don’t know, entering collages.”
I think we have our man,” Baker spoke to Hucka Doobie later. “And he’s a girl.”
“And this is your bedroom…”
“I can’t fit in there because I’m too tall. Enjoy!”
“Now to find where Cloe went in this stupid game, hmph.”