FebruARy Exclusive - Size - Part 2

Sweeties is quiet but not deserted. There's a woman in her twenties spinning around in a fairy princess dress, much to the apparent delight of her middle-aged parents. Are they just good actors, masking their horror at what has become of their once-independent daughter, or are they openly glad to have their little girl back? There's a man getting measured by a blonde assistant who is talking to him as if he's barely ready for pre-school, and the man is behaving as if all of this is normal, as if he hasn't' suffered a terrible injury to his life and self-respect.

"Doggies!" The man exclaims, pointing clumsily at the decoration on his new shoes.

"That's right!" the assistant agrees, smiling. "You got doggies on your shoes!"

The man nods, giggling. And for a moment Oliver wonders whether he should have worn a mask; perhaps the air is thick with infantilizing infection. But then he remembers the protocols, and understands that APP Positives aren't allowed in Sweeties or any other public place until they've bounced.

He gives the woman in the sparkly pink dress a pitying glance – so much vitriol has spread online for twenty-somethings who have caught the virus because they were careless, or deliberately flouted the rules, but no one deserves a fate like this - and then turns his attention to the woman at the sales counter.

The woman, her brown hair tied in a severe bun, a measuring tape hanging around her neck, looks frostily at Oliver across the counter.

"So you're telling me that you don't know the bounce point?"

"He's still at the clinic. His wife asked if I could come and pick up some clothes."

The clerk raises an eyebrow. "If we don't know his mental age, we don't know what clothes to give you."

Oliver shrugs. "I don't think she's all that picky. She said that he wet the bed last night if that helps."

The clerk looks at him as if he's the stupidest person she's spoken to in days, which, given her occupation, is a harsh assessment. "Any MA could wet the bed. A six-year-old could wet the bed." She sighs. "By all accounts, MAs find their incontinence pleasurable." She narrows her eyes disapprovingly. "So no, doesn't help. Without knowing the bounce point, you being here is a waste of time." Her expression makes it clear that it's her time that's being wasted.

For a store called Sweeties, this clerk isn't so sweet.

Oliver reads the woman's name badge. "Sandra, I'm sorry. It's my first time dealing with this stuff." He puts on a guilty expression. "Thing is, my friend's wife is pretty upset and I want to help. All she asked me for is the clothes, I don't want to let her down." He gives her what he hopes is a charming smile. "Is there something, anything really, a neutral kind of outfit I could get today, and then come back later for something else if they need it?"

Sandra looks around the store, as if ruler of her domain. And then she looks back at Oliver. "Fine. What's his size?"

Oliver blinks. "That's a... good question.” He waves vaguely. "He's kind of medium, I guess."

Sandra's face gets even frostier than before. "This isn't Walmart. We are a boutique created to address the needs of a pandemic. We are here to give MAs comfort, dignity, and safety."

Oliver can't help glancing at the fairy princess woman walking out with her parents, and he isn't sure about the 'dignity' angle.

"Call the wife, find out the individual's measurements."

"She's a little busy right-"

Sandra folds her arms. "No measurements, no clothes." She says slowly, "This is why we tell everyone very clearly to bring their child in after they've bounced."

Child. Oliver is ready to protest. His best friend isn't really a child. But he swallows his indignation and retrieves his phone. "I'll be right back."

He walks over to the changing rooms.

"How's it going?" he asks when Ruth answers the call.

"Not great," she replies flatly. And then, "Do you have the clothes?"

"Yeah, just about." Oliver rubs the back of his neck. "They're asking about the bounce point, any ideas?"

Ruth sighs. "Young."

"Okay. Okay, that's...well, at least we know." How young is young? Aren't they all young?

"Can you take the clothes to the house? They're delivering equipment in a couple hours."

"Absolutely. Just, could you give me an idea of Jacob's measurements?"

Silence, and then Oliver imagines Ruth gritting her teeth.

"He's your best friend. You seriously can't work this out for yourself?"

"I just thought you'd be a better-"

"You're the same size! Same height, same build. Jesus, Oliver, I gave you one little job. Don't make me feel like I'm completely on my own here."

"Right, I'm sorry, I'll..." But Ruth has already ended the call.

He pockets his phone, rubs his eyes. Time to go battle with the dragon lady again.

"Hey there!"

Instead, Oliver turns to find himself face to face with the blonde assistant who had been dealing with the MA male before, then guy who had looked so proud of his puppy-dog sneakers.

Oliver reads the new name badge that goes with the decidedly friendlier Sweeties clerk. "Suzie. Hi. I'm Oliver."

"Hi Oliver!" says Suzie, and Oliver is reminded of the bright, over-the-top persona of a children's TV presenter. She gives him a smile worthy of the Sweeties name. "And are you here with your mom and dad?"

Oliver blinks, and then shakes his head, blushing. "Oh, wow, no, I'm not..." He holds up his hands. "I'm not like that." He clears his throat. "I don't have APP." Did he look like he did?

For long moment, Oliver imagines the Sweeties staff pinning him to the ground and diapering him, sticking a pacifier between his lips.

But that's not a thing. Well, there are conspiracy theories on the Internet that tell the darkest of stories, of course. And it's a funny, not-that-funny idea, suddenly, for Oliver to imagine having to prove that he has his adult mind. Quote Shakespear? Recite the alphabet backwards? Tell the story of his last Tinder date?

"Sorry," says Suzie. "I have to ask." She smiles again. "You know the protocols, until they're all dressed up, they can be hard to tell apart from everyone else!"

Dressed up. As if Sweeties was a party supply store, as if it were all just some fun.

Oliver nods. "I'm here for my best friend, he just tested positive. Still waiting on the bounce, but his wife says he'll be on the young side."

Suzie pats his arm. "Aw, your best friend, that's tough." She nods sympathetically. "And you came here to pick up some clothes for him, that's good of you."

Oliver marvels at the difference in attitude between Suzie and her taciturn co-worker. "Anyway, so not totally sure on the bounce age, and I don't have his measurements, but his wife says I'm the same size, basically."

Suzie gives him one of her brilliant smiles, her pretty face framed by light blond hair. "Well then we're in good shape! I'll measure you, find something on the young side, like you say." She pats his arm again. "Sound like a plan?"

Oliver nods. "Thanks. I really appreciate you." I appreciate you not being a jerk like the other clerk. He lets Suzie guide him into a changing room stall that are roomier than the ones he's used to, Oliver assumes because Sweeties makes room for the MA adult, clerk, and the parent or care-giver. The wife-turned-mommy, the husband-turned-daddy, and so on.

Suzie takes a tape from a hook and gets to work taking Oliver's measurements, and Oliver watches their reflections in the full-length mirror. Suzie is efficient, humming cheerfully as she works, and Oliver's thoughts drift, he can only begin to imagine the emotions and thoughts Sweeties customers have had in this changing stall. From the simplified, infantile perspective of MA men and women who have had their adult intelligence swept away by a virus, to the adult care-givers who now have a weight of responsibility. So much uncertainty and anxiety. And are any of those parents glad to see their grown children return to innocence and dependency? And what about girlfriends and boyfriends, husbands and wi-

"Woah." He jerks away as she crouches and goes to take his inside-leg measurement. "Sorry," he says, blushing. "Guess I'm a little shy."

"Oh that's okay! Normally I'm doing this with an MA person." She smiles. "They don't worry about their privacy." She winks at him. "Just tells me what a big boy you are!"

Oliver laughs, then looks away as the blue-eyed blonde continues to measure. He fixes his attention on the plight of his best friend, wondering again what the clinic or Ruth means by "young".

And when the prick comes, he barely notices.

He glances down.

"Okay, honey?" Suzie asks. She's winding up the tape.

"Yeah," replies Oliver. "Thought I felt a little..." What? A scratch? "You got a pin or something?" He thinks of a traditional clothing store, the clerk pinning pant legs or sleeves to make adjustments.

Suzie looks at him innocently. "No, honey, no pins." She stands up. "And we're all done!"

"Thanks," says Oliver. He points to the door. “You want me to wait by the counter?”

Suzie smiles. “I want you to get undressed and I'll go get the clothes."

"Get..I'm sorry, what?"

Suzie gives him a questioning look of her own. "So you can try on the clothes, right? That’s why we’re in the changing room.”

Oliver smiles, because that must be a joke. And yet Suzie doesn't look as though she's joking.

"You need me to try it on?"

"Right!" Suzie says brightly. She laughs softly. "Normally, I'd be helping you get undressed, but I don't think you need my help, a big boy like you."

Oliver wrinkles his nose as Suzie's voice changes to something closer to how she'd spoken to the MA male in the doggie shoes.

She winks, and Oliver laughs. She's funny, she's a funny girl. She can put on an act, pretend that Oliver is like all the MA men and women, as if she could make his day by giving him a sucker.

It’s funny.

Oliver blinks, stifling a yawn with his hand. He's suddenly very tired, and he puts it down to the shock of Jacob's diagnosis, and the stress of all the changes coming in his best friend's life.

"You can get undressed by yourself, can't you sweetie," Suzie says, her tone still so very sweet and kind, and it's clear that she's waiting for agreement.

He nods, a little more emphatically than he had intended. "Of course." He frowns. "But do I have to try on the clothes? They're not for me."

"I know that, silly," Suzie says, and Oliver feels foolish for making a fuss. "But we don't have your friend here to make sure the clothes fit, and so you'll have to do." She's talking more slowly now, which is what the mean clerk did earlier, but Suzie’s way is better, because she doesn’t sound mean, she sounds nice.  "If I can dress you up and your outfit fits like a glove, then you can leave here happy. You get it, right?”

Oliver nods. Of course he gets it. Especially since Suzie expplained it so clearly.

The woman’s tone changes to something formal, but Oliver knows by Suzie's face that she's being playful when she intones, "Here at Sweeties, we want all our customers to be happy boys and girls."

Oliver laughs, and then feels another yawn threaten to show his tiredness.

Still, as his thoughts turn back to Jacob, the thought of having to try on the clothes, even for a matter of seconds, makes him even more conscious of the need to make sure they're not babyish. He considers the man with the puppy dog sneakers. Is that too babyish? Suddenly, and perhaps it’s just the tiredness that is now catching up to Oliver in waves, making him want to sit down, but he’s not sure where the line is drawn.  He gives Suzie a pleading look. “They're thinking young, but not super young, you know?" Please don't dress my best friend like an infant.

Suzie nods and smiles. "Trust me, I've got something just right." She pats his arm and says gently, the smile still in her eyes, “You don’t get to leave until you’re a happy boy, Oliver.”

He laughs again, to show that he gets the joke. The very idea of the woman thinking that her sense of humor is going over his head is...well, unthinkable.

The woman’s smile gets brighter. "You trust me, right?"

Oliver nods in return. And he finds that he does trust the woman. He looks at their mirrored reflections; such a pretty, sweet woman, the same age as him, of course he trusts her. He is filled with a sleepy but reassuring confidence. Everything is going to be fine.

To be continued...