It was the last day of term at White Peaks University, and
where the vast majority of the student body had already packed their bags and
headed for home or were out celebrating the end to the year, some to the very
end of their college experience, one student remained determined. Maggie
Harris, a 23-year-old blonde beauty clicked and clacked in her expensive black boots against the
old stone paths of the campus, marching her way towards the Business School
building. She had no classes left of course, no essays or last-minute
assignment drops, Maggie having finished her scholarly duties far earlier and
with greater concentration than a great deal of the student body. Ever focused
and with eyes always set to what was coming next, Maggie was on her way for a
final advisory meeting with Deborah Parker, her supervisor and tutor of many
years.
The young fashion industry mogul to be never missed the mark when it
came to the mission of her future. Fully
committed, Maggie had involved herself in numerous extra-curricular programmes,
events, societies, and projects over the years, and because of this, Maggie had
rightfully cultivated for herself the image of an ambitious and hard-working
young woman. Her future career was everything to her, and during her time at college
and even as far back as High School, Maggie would always put the needs of her career
first. Although at times, and especially recently, this dedication was often to
the detriment of her personal life. The Summer break was a mere day away, and
whereas the rest of the student body her age were currently planning trips with
friends, holidays abroad, family time and just generally taking the time to
relax and have fun, Maggie was planning for interviews, internships and for
more work opportunities. Her graduation ceremony was still a number of months
away, but as she saw it, her time as a student of White Peaks University was
over by the end of the day – and that left little to no time to sit back and just
allow opportunity to pass her by.
Maggie found Deborah sitting at her desk when she walked in,
her back facing the door as she stared out of the window down below, to the
Campus Garden, colorful and vibrant in the summer sun.
'Beautiful day Maggie isn't it?' she said, having not turned
around, chewing on the end of her glasses in a bit of a daze.
'Uh...yeah, I haven't really noticed' Maggie replied,
setting herself down in the comfortable leather chair across from Deborah.
'Really?' Deborah said, turning now, placing the glasses
back on her face, 'Let me guess Maggie, you've been so swamped with all
of this work you didn't have the time to notice? '
Maggie sighed a little and smiled, 'Deborah please, not again.’
‘Last day of term. You have no more classes, have done all
your work, you’re guaranteed to graduate at the very top of your class,
and yet you’re here with me, in this office, discussing what else you can do to
busy yourself when you could be outside enjoying that sun and freedom?’
‘Huh-uh’.
‘You are a different breed my dear’, Deborah said as patted
her auburn hair into place, ‘You need a break.’
‘I take breaks…’ Maggie muttered.
‘A coffee and a swipe of your phone in between work-loads
isn’t what I’m talking about. What about friends huh? Your class-mates? No
celebrations on the horizon for you? A confident, beautiful young woman like
you must have been invited to a hundred parties I bet.’
‘Yeah…’
'Okay, okay. I've clearly touched a nerve' Deborah chuckled, 'I’m just pulling your chain, a little, but it is important to lighten your load here and there. Keeping a healthy balance between work and play is a vital component to success you know.'
'I do know, I’m not a total drip y’know, I
have fun, but do you see half the students that come to this place? How many
have dropped out just because they haven’t worked out how to ensure the fun
doesn’t ruin everything else? I had friends my first year here that just
dropped off the map, because they couldn’t keep any kind of good grade. Ended
up going home with their tail between their legs with nothing to show for it.
It’s crazy.’
‘And you worry that could have happened to you?’
‘Nope, and you know why?’
‘Because you work hard?’
‘Because I work hard.’
'You're a tenacious young woman Maggie, I admire that…’,
Deborah paused a little after talking, contemplating, ‘Actually Maggie, while
we’re on the subject of breaks and all that, there’s something I do need to
talk to you about. It’s nothing too big, and you don’t need to worry, my time
with you won’t be affected by this. It’s just that, well, after graduation
later in the year, I’m going to be taking my leave from the University.’
Maggie was surprised.
'Oh. Is it a new position somewhere else?'
'No Maggie, I'm going to retire.'
Maggie raised her lip.
'Retire? Really? I'm…well, I’m actually kind of surprised to
hear that, isn’t it a little early?'
'Well, maybe, but…I can't keep it up forever. It wasn't an
easy decision, but me and Malcolm have made our money, and at our age it's far
more difficult to keep up with the work-load that’s put on us both. Working in
education seems to become more and more exhausting with each passing year, so we're
going to do it together…I think it's even a little romantic’ she said, smiling,
a little wistfully.
Maggie sat on her true thoughts as she expressed her best
well-wishes.
'I can't say I'm happy to see you go Deborah, but I do wish
you all the best, and hope that you're able to find retirement...rewarding, I
suppose.'
'I'm sure I will, thank you. We’ve got this big cruise
planned in celebration and everything. It’s not for a while yet, though, it’s
one of these luxury ones you have to book a long time in advance…' Deborah was
a tad giddy at the thought. The older woman sat and pondered for a second.
'Y'know, I thought I'd be far more upset about the whole
thing. Forgive me for sounding like such an old biddy but I was a lot like you
when I was younger Maggie. Work, work, work – it was all I could focus on. I'm
certainly proud of what I've accomplished of course, but now, I'm really looking
forward to retiring. No more running around chasing documents or marking essays
just--'
'It sounds nice' Maggie cut her off, the topic beginning to bore
her.
Deborah's lips formed a knowing smile in response.
'I'm sorry Maggie, I don't mean to lecture you. I know I’ve
been hitting you over the head with it a lot lately. I just worry y’know? I’m
sure you want to get to work, don't you?'
‘Please’ Maggie said, nodding.
Deborah pushed her glasses further back, then prepared a
series folders for the desk.
'Okay then, let's get started.'
___________________________________________________________________________________
The session had proved fruitful for Maggie. Her books
brimming with fresh notes and plans for her summer of work ahead. She felt
satisfied most of all with the news that one of her prospective internships,
the one she had coveted the most at Elegante Fashion Emporium, had
not only accepted her application readily, but even invited her to their
company mixer event coming up in a few weeks’ time. It was a little out of
town, at a fancy hotel, and she well and truly couldn’t wait. It would be an
opportunity for her to really make a solid first impression. To get her foot in
the door at this crucial stage in their development, just as they are about to
hit the stratosphere, was a huge deal. It could be the difference between
waiting a few more years for the right position or getting a huge move up the
ladder early.
Deborah had been a great help that afternoon. The news of her early retirement was a let
down for Maggie. Deborah was 68 years old, she thought, ‘I mean it’s old, but
not too old for someone in education’ she reasoned to herself, ‘Don’t most
people retire in their eighties these days?’ While it was good to hear Deborah
would continue to work with her up until graduation, her leave was frustrating
in other ways for Maggie. While she didn’t readily admit this to herself,
Deborah was largely the only real friend and confidante she had here besides her boyfriend Billy. It wasn’t always that way of course. When Maggie first got settled into the
college life, she made lots of friends very quickly. Things were different for
her back then. Maggie had always
wanted to be an artist when she was younger, and being naturally skilled, and
with her tenacity and work output, Maggie easily got her way into Art
School. She
went to parties…maybe not as much as everyone else…but she had her fun, and it
wasn’t long before the Art School scene began to weigh down on a lot of her
friends. Taking things too hard, their work being sloppy, their grades
slipping, a lot of them didn’t make it through into the next year or even
dropped out themselves. On her own, she decided that
hard work, dedicated, serious hard work, would be her best bet towards a bright and successful future. Maggie had convinced herself that she could really make something of herself
that way, rather than following the rest of her burnout buddies from her
freshman year.
If it meant working like crazy
to get to that place? So be it. She was genuinely happy that Deborah had
managed to find some kind of solace in the end of her career, but for Maggie
the idea was all together unthinkable. Things hadn't even begun for her yet. Slowing
down now, was just not an option.
Despite all of the planning she had already done that day, Maggie was far from done yet. Instead, she had to keep herself busy, waitressing over at the dingy little bar 'Harry's' over on the other side of town. The drive over there was always such a slog, and the clientele usually didn't help matters. Tonight however, things had finally settled down, and after the chaos of the Friday night ruckus, Maggie and her boss were left with just one customer left. A little old lady, sitting on her own in a back booth, reading a book. Maggie hadn't noticed her all night until just now. She must have been sat there, patiently reading away, whilst the bar was hopping with noise and excitement. Maggie's boss pulled her aside, nodded towards the old woman.
'Do you know that woman?'
'No. Why?'
'Well she keeps looking over at you, thought she was your grandma or something.'
"She is?" Maggie raised an eyebrow, "I haven't even noticed her...and no, sadly John my Grandma is dead, and I can safely say I've never seen that woman before in my life.'
'She seems nice enough. You should let her talk to you. Be nice and you might get a good tip.'
'What do you mean? I'm nice' she retorted
'She's probably just looking for someone to sit and chat with her for a little while. There's not much to do around here now...go on, humor the old girl.'
Maggie rolled her eyes.
'John come on, she's reading her book, leave her be.'
'She keeps smiling your way.' He said with a grin, purposely trying to irritate her.
'Well that's creepy.'
Maggie slyly took a glance across towards the woman in question once more.
'Just my luck' she thought, the older woman had just finished her Melon Ball. With John watching on, finding the situation funny, Maggie trudged her way across the floor of the bar, an uneasy and fake smile ready in anticipation for the mysterious old lady. Standing over her, she cleared her throat a little before making contact.
'You all finished there ma’am?' she asked quickly.
The older woman looked up with a warm smile. Book still in hand.
'Oh yes dear, thank you' Maggie picked up the glass from the table as the woman placed her book down.'
'Do you read much yourself?'
'Huh? Oh...'
Maggie realized that John was right. The old lady was harmless and just looking for someone to talk to. Maggie looked to the clock on the wall, reading 10:45, her shift would be ending in about an hour she thought, and she might get a pretty decent tip from the woman if she played nice. A little extra spending money couldn't hurt. Maggie's demeanor got a little warmer towards the lady.
'I do actually. I've just not had many chances to sit down with a good book as of late.'
'Oh why's that?' the woman asked, concern coating her voice 'Take a seat honey, if you're able, I don't mind the company.'
Maggie nodded awkwardly and sat in the booth. The bar was practically empty and John did encourage her to engage with the customer after all.
'I just work quite a lot. Don't get a great deal of time is all.'
'Just here at the bar?'
'No, not just here. I've just finished up my last year at college and have a lot of work related stuff I'm, well...working through. It just keeps me pretty busy all the time. Seems to be a topic that keeps coming up today.' She laughed sheepishly.
The woman's expression changed. The warmth conforming to genuine concern, as if the topic had gotten suddenly very serious.
'I could tell dear. I could sense it from you.'
Maggie stifled a laugh at the word 'sense'. Taking another look at this woman, all adorned in glamorous and outlandish clothing, makeup done to perfection and colorful, she could only assume that this woman thought of herself as some sort of psychic. The idea made Maggie roll her eyes internally but she played along so as not to cause offence.
'You could sense it from me?'
'Yes. These sort of worries, they send out vibrations into the universe, and only the right people can pick up on them.'
Maggie's expression couldn't help but convey her feeling that this lady was some sort of whackjob. Maybe off her meds.
'This busy life that you lead, does it fulfil you?'
'Well I--'
Maggie was going to retort with something fast and clever. Of course she found that sort of lifestyle fulfilling she thought. She was working towards her dream goal. But as she went to express herself the realization hit her that she didn't feel satisfied. Not in the least. Satisfaction would only come once she had achieved everything that she wanted, and for all her hard work and struggle and stress, that could still be many years off.
'---I don't know' she finished.
With her gloved hand the older woman gently patted Maggie's arm.
'You need to reward all of that hard work with a break my dear.'
Maggie nodded. It was weird. She had resisted such advice from all of those closest to her but there was something charismatic and magnetic about the older woman she spoke to. She could be a bit more honest, perhaps safe in the knowledge that this woman was a stranger.
'I do but...I have to keep working' She said defiantly. 'It's all for something. It's all worth it.'
The older woman cast her eyes downward, a little sad and disappointed before picking them up once more and with a warm, if not uneasy smile, she began reaching into her large mauve handbag.
'I can assure you young lady...this relaxation you're so desperately in need of will find you sooner than you think.'
'Do you sense it?' Maggie replied, her eyebrow cocked in sarcasm.
The woman's smile had a clever and knowing quality to it as she returned from scouring the contents of her over-sized bag.
'You could say that...Here.'
In her hand was a wad of rolled up bills. Clearly enough money for all the drinks she had purchased throughout the night and a more than healthy tip for Maggie. Instead of just handing over the wad however, the woman oddly first began to take off a single glove...and as she did, Maggie noticed the strangest thing. While the lady herself was not haggard in the least, (classy and refined if anything) she did look her age. Yet...her un-gloved hand looked so soft and young and pretty, with mauve colored nails painted to perfection and shiny. With this same hand, the woman slowly passed the money over to Maggie. Recognizing the sheer amount that she was being offered Maggie was taken back at the generosity.
'Oh ma’am thank you, but that's far too much' she said, waving her hands in protest.
The woman gently took a hold of Maggie's arm with her gloved hand and with the other she softly pressed the money down into Maggie's. Their skin touching as she did so. In that moment a strange sensation took a hold of Maggie. Spreading through her outstretched hand, up her arm and through her chest, stomach and onward. The feeling was warm and comforting and as it spread and subsequently settled, all momentary, Maggie made eye contact with the woman across from her.
'Here's a second tip' she said, smiling 'Learn to enjoy yourself honey. In my own experience...that's all that matters.'
Maggie sat still as she tried to take in the relaxing glow she felt through her entire body, the woman got herself up from the table. Maggie was coming out of her momentary daze, the effects lessening. The woman looked down at Maggie with sincerity and kindness.
'It keeps you young' She winked before saying goodbye and making her way out of Shelley's.
Maggie held onto the warm feeling for only a few seconds more before it gently faded. She blinked a few times, confused before looking down at the highly generous tip in her hand. Unfolding it in a hurry Maggie realized that there must have been close to 300 dollars there. Her mouth hung open in shock as she could hear John coming back to the front of the bar from the storeroom in the back. Turning, she saw him with his coat on, as if ready to leave.
'Your friend gone home finally?' John asked, looking a little impatient.
Maggie took a look around the bar and noticed that every other seat was empty. The lights towards the back end of the room had been turned off, every table cleared, chairs stacked. Her hand pressed against her forehead, trying to figure out what had just transpired, as she walked over to John. The manager took a look at the wad of cash in Maggie's hand.
'So...looks like it was an early Christmas from granny glam back there' he joked.
'Yeah..' she droned, still thinking and trying to comprehend her odd experience. 'She was...really nice.'
'She must have been. I haven't seen you gab away to a customer like that in the entire time you've worked here.'
'What do you mean?'
'You were laughing up a storm over there, like you were old pals. Hope she comes back, I might start chatting to her for near an hour if it got me cash like that.'
Maggie's eyes lit up in subtle panic.
'An hour?'
She turned to the clock hanging on the wall, and even though the room was darkened, she could see that sure enough John was right. 11:55. Her shift had ended five minutes ago.
'I started closing up' John said 'It was just you and her left. Not like you to hang around here past your shift though I must say.'
Maggie was trying to understand how she could have misplaced so much time. How a conversation that she thought had barely scraped five minutes managed to be over an hour. And “laughing up a storm, old pals”? She certainly couldn't picture how John could possibly perceive any of that. John interrupted her thinking.
'Hey are you okay Maggie? You seem a little bit elsewhere?'
Maggie forced herself out of her own head for a second and focused on John. She nodded, trying to reassure him (and herself) that nothing was wrong.
'I'm fine. Honest. It's just...been a long day is all.'
'If you say so' he said as he handed Maggie her coat. 'Come on, home time.'
The two headed out to the desolate car-park and said their goodbyes before John drove off. Maggie just sat in her car for a couple of moments collecting herself. She looked down at her hand where the strange woman had touched her, tracing her palm lines with a light finger. 'It really has been a long day' she said aloud, trying her best to shake off the strange encounter and blaming the whole thing on just how overworked and tired she was feeling. Maggie had wanted to get some last minute work done in fact, at least giving her resume a once over before heading to bed but as she sat in the car, she could feel herself sinking into a deep fatigue. There was no way she was going to be able to stay awake long enough for that, and was even a little dubious if she should drive home feeling such a way. It was strange she thought, as she started the engine, she had been tired sure but not this much. Maybe Billy, Deborah and the weird old woman were right, maybe she just needed to take it easy for a while.
It had taken her longer than usual to get home that night. The weariness only having grown in strength as she drove. Avoiding any potential accidents she had purposely driven slow, perhaps slower than she should have in fact which became fiercely apparent to her when a rather angry man behind her some ways back had honked his horn and called her a 'granny' from his rolled down window as he recklessly sped by her. The scenario had been embarrassing but this tiredness was nothing to take lightly. Feeling the struggle to keep her eyes open. Strangely this feeling, as fuzzy and disconcerting as it was, was making Maggie feel very comfortable. It was as if that warm sensation from earlier had grown steadily from somewhere inside her after it had settled and now had taken full effect. She saw that the living room light was still on as she pulled into her driveway, her mother Julie must have still been up. She sighed as she stepped out of the car, knowing that she simply did not have the time or the energy to hold a conversation with her mother. And no doubt seeing her in such a state would bring upon yet another speech concerning her being overworked and taking on too much at once. It's not like the point hadn't been hit home hard enough already.
The lights were dim and calming as she entered the house. Her mother, sitting on the couch watching television, turned as Maggie closed the door behind her.
'Hey sweetheart.' She called from behind the couch, wine glass in her right hand.
'Hey..' Maggie stood half in the doorway, indicating physically her lack of commitment to any meaningful conversation.
'You're home late. Did you end up going to that thing with Billy?'
Maggie shook her head.
'No. I took an extra shift at Shelley's. One of the....' Maggie yawned deeply '..one of the staff phoned in sick.'
Julie took note of her daughter's exhaustion, and raised an eyebrow behind her stylish glasses.
'Are you okay Maggie? You seem really tired.'
'I am. It's just been a really long day, I'm actually just going to go straight to bed I think.'
'Oh yeah of course, don't let me keep you. Goodnight hun. You have a good night's sleep it looks like you're coming down with something.'
Maggie said goodnight to her mother as she headed up the stairs. Her body feeling ready to collapse with every laboured step. She passed by her younger sister Ashley's door, noticing through the creak the cold blue light of a phone or laptop in the dark. She shook her head, slightly wowed that the 9 year old could still be awake as she was surely about to fall into one of the deepest sleeps of her life. Sure enough as she closed her own bedroom door behind her, the neat warmth of her well-kept bed was practically dragging her. She dropped her coat on the floor, kicked off her boots and then fell into her bed, taking off anything else just felt like too much hassle. Immediately satisfied and relaxed as her head hit the pillow, Maggie wrapped herself up in her covers, warm and safe, a content smile stretching across her face.
Before quickly falling asleep, Maggie's heavy eyes glanced
over to her large vanity mirror directly across from her bed. The image
appeared to her as being rather strange, as from what she could see, the mirror
made it look as if she was still moving beneath her many covers, even though
she was perfectly still, almost as if she was growing. Too tired to really
comprehend what was happening, she resigned herself to sleep. Her eyes closed.
Peace.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Maggie could feel beams of sunlight decorate her face as she grew to wakefulness. She was practically buried in her covers, with just her right foot, still encased in her black tights poking through. As she came to, she couldn't help but think of what a strange experience last night had been. The mysterious warm sensation that plagued her yesterday had vanished, and while she was worried about what potential illness such a feeling could signify, there was no denying, now as she hugged her covers that bit tighter, that it had provided her perhaps the best night's sleep of her life. Her eyes somewhat blurred, she blinked repeatedly to stir them into clarity as she noticed her mother standing over her.
'...Maggie? Maggie are you awake?'
Maggie couldn't shake the fogginess from her eyes. It wasn't anything too debilitating, but just a slight fuzz that made things a little bit harder to make out.
'Mom? What time is it?' she croaked, only half noticing that her voice seemed deeper and even a tad brittle. Julie stood sharply still, and Maggie could make out an expression of fear and panic upon her mother's face.
'Maggie...stay calm hun okay, but I think something might be wrong.'
This expression forced Maggie to full wakefulness. Her eyes opened wide, her body raised. Her mother looked like a deer caught in the headlights, as if something terrible had happened, like she was in shock.
'Mom what's wro--' Maggie stopped herself as she heard her voice again, this time more clearly. She was right. It was deeper and cracked. She placed a hand to her throat and panic set in even deeper as she felt soft, loose skin around her neck. She looked away from her mother and down to her hand upon her chest and was met with with a number of frightening surprises. The first thing she noticed was a fleshy softness that had formed beneath her chin upon directing her head downward, her hand was slightly wrinkled and rough looking contrasting greatly with her freshly manicured, pastel pink colored nails – and finally, just beneath her hand she saw that her once pert and perky breasts had burst open her bra, and ripped the tight white t-shirt she had worn to work, having now grown into the jiggling, slightly drooped bosom of a middle-aged or elderly matron.
Maggie could only scream in horror as she jumped up from the bed, her body heavier than she had expected, her poor mother trying to calm her down. As Julie stood there in shock, unsure of what to do, watching Maggie flail and cry in this strange body, the mother's eyes widened as she took in the full effect of what had happened to her daughter's body. She was racking her brain trying to think of what could possibly have done this to her, perhaps some skin condition, some extreme allergy, but there was no denying that whatever was responsible for this, Maggie had in all simplicity, just aged overnight. Her daughter's long hair only yesterday having been a strong blonde now sat somewhere between shades of straw and grey. She had also gained a considerable amount of weight, with Julie noticing the ripples of cellulite in the girl's chunky legs and massive rear which were greatly straining the black tights she had slept in, tearing in certain places. Her slender and well toned frame was now buried beneath the flabby belly of a mature woman that wobbled and swished with Maggie's frantic movements, supported only by wide child-bearing hips. It's jiggling flesh exposed as her torn white t-shirt rode above, unable to contain it. Taking all of this in Julie tried in vain to get her transformed daughter to remain calm, rubbing her wide back jaggedly in a vain attempt at motherly soothing and shouting over Maggie's wails that they'll get a doctor, that they'll fix this.
Maggie broke free of her mother's uncoordinated comforting and made her way towards the bathroom where she locked herself in. Julie ran after her, knocking on the door, trying desperately to bring the situation down to a calm.
'Honey please open the door. Maggie?! Please! We can fix this sweetheart, just stay calm!'
Maggie couldn't hear her mother. The adrenaline and panic was so high that a bomb might as well have gone off, she could barely keep from collapsing. She took a moment and calmed just enough to pay greater attention to her body. Looking down she gasped as she saw what her mother had already, her new gut. She grabbed a hold of it in shock, feeling it wobble, fold and flop beneath her wrinkled fingers. Immediately her hands started to grip other parts of her body randomly and suddenly, taking in all of the fat she now possessed around her thighs, legs, arms and of course her ass. She moaned audibly, as if grieving for her young and supple physique before noticing her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Maggie stopped. She could only focus on the figure in the mirror before her. As she moved closer and closer, her no longer perfect eyesight taking a moment to catch up, she placed her hand hesitantly against her cheek as she truly saw herself. Her hair was grey, still thick, but drained of nearly all its natural color. Her cheeks were chubby and round and along with deep laugh lines around her mouth had the very beginning of jowls. The fleshy sensation around her throat, as she discovered, was a gentle double-chin. Her face was sprinkled with wrinkles. Around her eyes bags had forming, edged out by crow's feet. In the horror and panic of the last few minutes Maggie was unable to see that she was still pretty, that she had still retained her beauty, albeit the kind of beauty where upon one would remark that she was 'looking great...for her age.' But all that Maggie could see was the one very simple reality. She was old. With a fragile and shaky hand she pushed and prodded her matured face, her mind working overtime to try and process what had happened, why, how. Julie was still banging on the door, trying to get in.
'Maggie I'm going to phone 911 okay?! The doctors can help. We'll fix this sweetheart!'
Staring at the old woman that she had become in the mirror, Maggie's mind was quickly met with visions of the night before. The obscene, sudden tiredness, the creeping warmth that had spread throughout her body, the strange old woman in the bar. Maggie could hear her mother trying to get through to the emergency services, her own panic making her press the wrong buttons in frustration. Maggie realized then that this was no illness, no medical emergency, this...as amazed as she was to admit it....was the result of magic. That old woman, that....WITCH had done this to her. With a defeated expression Maggie turned away from the mirror and opened the bathroom door, her mother just managing to get through to 911 as she walked through. She could hear the operator asking 'Hello?' on the other end as Julie looked upon her changed daughter with teary eyes and a similarly despondent expression.
'Hang up' Maggie managed from her throat, uneasy about saying anything, not wanting to hear the husky older voice escape her lips.
'But Maggie?'
Maggie's expression was serious. Her furrowed brow giving way to more wrinkles in her skin. With that look Julie did as her daughter asked, and hung up the phone. The panic had subsided, the mood settled and morphed. The insanity and terror of only a few minutes before, now a heavy sadness and confusion. Scared for her daughter Julie embraced Maggie tightly. Finding the sensation of her hands sinking slightly into Maggie's newly acquired back-fat unnerving.
'I....' Maggie struggled '...I know what did this.'
Julie looked into her daughter's old eyes.
'What did this to you sweetheart?'
'A witch.'
___________________________________________________________________________________
It had been about an hour since things had calmed in the Harris household. Julie had locked all the doors and closed all the curtains at Maggie's request as they sat there. The two of them in the living room, silent and unable to talk. Maggie sat with her bed-covers wrapped around her, trying to hide her new fat, old body from her mother's gaze and also her own. Sitting perfectly still, with only her face exposed to view. Julie now settled herself, was able to see some aspects of her daughter that had survived this change. Her lips were just as full as they had always been, perhaps a little dry and obviously touched with subtle lines around the edges but full none the less. Maggie's skin itself wasn't haggard or riddled with wrinkles like a lot of older women's skin might, these wrinkles were far fainter and distinguished looking – the only prominent areas affected being her neck and the deep laugh-lines around her mouth. Julie noted however that this was perhaps due to the large amount of weight her daughter had gained, her new fat smoothing her out some. Her eyes also still held that youthful, shining blue that had always been a defining feature of her image, marred only slightly by the creeping crow's feet and heavy bags in place around them. All in all, she thought Maggie was was still a good-looking woman, however this only held up she realized, once the word 'mature' or 'older' had been added to that description.
'Where's Ashley?' Maggie managed, breaking the silence.
'I sent her to her friend Susan's house before I woke you up. I didn't want her to be here if things got too out of control, I didn't want to scare her.'
'Good idea' Maggie croaked 'I wouldn't want her to see me like this.' Maggie sank deeper beneath her covers as she said this, clinging to her covers tighter to prevent any other body parts from being exposed. Julie looked over to her daughter with a pained expression, she didn't know what the next step was to take, where to begin trying to save her daughter from this insanity, and it made her feel so helpless.
'I already phoned Susan's parents and told them that we had a family emergency, they've agreed to look after her for tonight. So you don't need to worry.'
'You must have thought I was dead when you saw me' Maggie said, still uncomfortable with the deepened timbre in which she now spoke.
'I...I didn't know what to think Maggie but I knew you weren't dead.'
'How come?'
'Well...you were...snoring.'
'Snoring? I don't snore' Maggie retorted.
'I know Maggie. It was just this one time I'm sure, but that's how I knew...it was kind of loud'
The mother and daughter sat there in awkward silence before Julie addressed the most pressing topic.
'You mentioned something about...a witch?'
Maggie turned towards her mother, still primarily hidden beneath her cloak of bedding.
'I know it sounds crazy' she said 'But it's true.'
'Maggie sweetheart no explanation seems crazy enough at this point. What happened? What did this person say?'
'She was sitting in the bar alone just reading a book and then she started talking to me. She said she could...sense...that I needed to rest or something and then she gave me 300 dollars and told me to enjoy myself.'
'And that's all?'
'That's all I can remember. My manager John said I had spoke to her for over an hour but it felt like 2-3 minutes tops to me.'
'What book was she reading? Do you know what that book was about? Maybe...maybe..it holds some clue or something? Maybe she cast a spell and --- oh god I sound ridiculous.'
Julie held her panicked head in her hands, fear and uncertainty written all over her. A large buzz interrupted their conversation, it's intrusive vibration causing the mother and daughter's hearts to sink in anxious surprise before they realized it was a message coming through on Maggie's phone that lay on the table. Maggie looked over to her mother, still not wanting or able to move, her wrinkled eyes telling her mother 'you do it'. Julie understood, and picked up Maggie's phone.
'It's from Billy' she said, a quiver of hesitation in her voice.
Maggie's tired eyes widened slightly.
'What does it say?'
'He said “Hey babe, missed you at the party last night it was a lot of fun. Hope you took my advice and had an easy night instead! Still cool for me to come round? Xxx”
Maggie sighed beneath her duvet hood. In all of the chaos of the morning she had forgotten all about Billy wanting to hang out.
'Let me see it' Maggie said, extending her arm out from her fortress of covers.
Julie placed the phone in Maggie's hand and couldn't help but absorb its aged details. Looking slightly rougher and wrinkled around the knuckles especially. There were even some faint liver spots, and all around there was a sort of soft plumpness to them. She watched as Maggie typed her response, her old hands looking out of place texting with the ease of a millennial. The idea that her own hands looked more youthful and healthy than her 23 year old daughter's deeply disturbed Julie, who pulled the sleeves of her warm jumper over, and hid her own hands beneath them.
'What did you tell him?' Julie asked.
'I told him that I was sick. That I'm at the hospital and it's serious.'
'But don't you want to--'
'He doesn't see me like this. No-one does. I'm going to tell him that it's not something I can explain, that it's serious and he won't see me for a while.'
'He'll come around here looking for you Maggie. You know he will.'
Her mother was right. The excuse was dramatic, ill thought out, rushed and completely lacking in any sort of detail. Billy loved her, and he wouldn't take such an insane situation so lightly. As much as he could be lazy and more interested in having fun most of the time, Billy got serious when it came to Maggie. He'd made that clear in the past and he'd want to make sure she was safe and be there for her in any way that he could.
'Then I can't be here' Maggie blurted, her hidden expression deep in thought.
'What are you talking about?'
'I...I can't be here if he comes looking for me. I don't even want to be here for Ashley getting back tomorrow. I just...I need to hide or something.'
'Maggie you can't just hide, you need to deal with this. Maybe we should take you to the hospital, we have to exhaust all the options.'
'Mom enough!' Maggie's tone was serious, the deeper, uneasy cadence of her aged voice sounding like a mother scolding her child. She calmed herself as she turned towards Julie.
'I'm sorry...but...no' she continued 'This isn't some illness or disease. This doesn't just...happen. A doctor can't help me. It was the woman at the bar that did this, I know it.'
'But if you're right Maggie, how do we deal with that? Where do we start?'
Maggie looked down towards the phone in her wrinkled hands. The black screen reflecting her shielded face with enough clarity for the aged girl to make out her proto-jowls, chubby cheeks and heavier eyes.
'I don't know' she said, closing her eyes, suppressing tears. 'I just know that I need to get away from here, I can't risk people seeing me.'
Julie mediated on Maggie's words and recognized the severity with which she said them. She wanted to help her daughter as any mother would but didn't know where to begin. There was nowhere else Maggie could really retreat to, even if it was just for a short time. Ashley needed looking after also, and would have school again in just a couple of days which greatly complicated matters and Maggie didn't even want Ashley to see her in this state. The mother and daughter sat there in contemplative silence as Julie probed her mind, it was only when she was about to give up did she realize that there was in fact, one place where Maggie could stay that would guarantee her anonymity, especially given her condition. Julie gulped a little, not sure how Maggie would take the suggestion.
'Maggie I don't know how you'll feel about this...but do you remember my Aunt Doris?'
Maggie did remember her. Her Great Aunt Doris was her grandmother's older sister, and used to be a big part of their lives when she was just a kid. She remembered her large presence at birthday parties, Christmas dinners and other family gatherings, Doris eventually fading away from such events after her sister's death. Maggie's grandmother was named Margaret and was in fact the aged girl's namesake, she had died many years ago, back before even Ashley was born and it was this untimely death that had forced Doris to gradually retreat from big family events. She had kept in touch very briefly over the years, but Maggie hadn't heard from or about her in a very long time.
'Yeah...I remember her, why?'
'Well you're probably not going to like this but I need you to just hear me out. She's been staying in this...retirement community called Easy Springs.'
Maggie remained silent beneath her make-shift hood of bed covers, making Julie feel uneasy as she continued.
'It's one of these fancy places where rich people go--'
'You mean old people' Maggie interrupted.
'Well...sure, there are a lot of older people that live there' Julie said, trying not to aggravate the conversation '...but it's 55+ and these places are entire towns just built for luxury and--'
'What is it you're trying to say?'
Julie took a deep breath.
'I'm saying...if you really want to get away from everyone right now, we could get in touch with Doris and see if she'd let you stay with her for the time being. This Easy Springs is about a 3 hour drive from here, which in my mind is far enough away that you won't risk running into anyone from town but it's also close enough that I could still travel back and forth with little effort in order to see you.'
Maggie held onto her silence, pondering the offer. As much as she hated the idea of living in such a place, especially in her current condition, she realized it would be the perfect location to hide from the rest of the world right now.
'How long would I stay there exactly?'
'Well I don't know...just until you get better. Until we fix this.'
Maggie's expression changed.
'You know something I don't? We don't know how long this will last Mom, or even if it can be fixed. What if I'm stuck like this? What if...what if this is it from now on?'
Julie could hear the emotion building in Maggie's voice. She couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult this must be, how confused and scared her poor daughter must be. She got up and sat closer to Maggie on the couch, the aged girl shifting uncomfortably beneath her protective duvet.
'Maggie, sweetheart' Julie placed her hand against Maggie's back, gently stroking it in soft soothing circles as Maggie fought back tears beneath the covers.
'I know you must be terrified right now. I'm scared too. I don't know how we're going to do it, but I swear to you we will get to the bottom of this. We will get you back to normal again. I promise.'
Maggie looked up at her mother, the tears running quietly down her plump, softened face as she nodded and edged her head in closer to her mother so that Julie was now holding her. In between her stifled sobs Maggie said that her mother was right.
'I want you to phone Aunt Doris.'
The three hour drive out of town to Easy Springs felt like an eternity in the car, made worse by the general silence and occasional bouts of stiff conversation that did nothing to alleviate the sheer oddity of their situation. The mother and daughter were both still in shock after the events of the morning, still trying to wrap their heads around what had happened, what might happen now and what they could possibly do to fix the insane predicament they found themselves in.
Julie had spoken to Doris on the phone for quite some time before they had left, trying to explain to the best of her abilities what had happened, with elements like the 'witch' being softened and abbreviated in her description. What was important was that Doris managed to somehow understand the very strange fact that Maggie had simply woken up that morning as an older woman, and that she now needed to stay somewhere out of town to avoid dealing with everyone. Doris naturally struggled to grasp exactly what Julie was telling her, but understanding that her grand niece was in some serious trouble and needed her help she had agreed to take Maggie in with little hesitation, regardless of what insane circumstances had brought forth this event.
Maggie sat in the passenger side of the car staring out at the endless trees that passed them along the highway, trying to keep her mind as far away from her body and as distracted from her incredible situation as she possibly could. She sat there in a purple sweat-suit borrowed from her mother which was incredibly tight and ill-fitting, but there was simply nothing else in the house that had even come close to covering up Maggie's plump, overweight body as successfully. Her flabby gut was poorly contained by the purple top, and every few minutes or so Julie would notice from the corner of her eye Maggie fidgeting, trying and failing to pull it down far enough to hide her soft and exposed belly.
Doris had agreed on the phone to get some new clothes for Maggie that were more flattering to her new figure, the old woman having ran to all of the clothing stores in Easy Springs and buying in bulk from plus-size sections in something of a blind hurry. This was all discussed out of Maggie's earshot of course, the aged still not quite being able to process the idea that she was now a fat woman. Maggie had never had any issues with her weight before, having always been on the skinnier side and taking after her mother. It was a note of pride for the 23 year old that she had managed to stay so trim and toned without ever obsessing over her body the way many others do, and now she couldn't move without feeling her far heavier body jiggle all over, the soft flesh of her gut pouring out of the restrictive sweat-suit, and her sagging bosom awkwardly straining against the top, threatening to bulge out entirely. The aged girl looked over to the 44 year old Julie driving the car, eyeing up her mother's svelte and well maintained body. Maggie closed her eyes as she tried to fight the negative thoughts that crept into her mind, noticing to her disgust and shame that as she compared her mother's attractive and even youthful figure to her own frumpy and mature one, she had felt an overwhelming sense of both disbelief and even envy.
They pulled into Easy Springs sometime in the late afternoon, Maggie's eyes still fixed to her passenger side window and failing to really pay attention to the time or anything else. The aged girl had even insisted before they left that her mother take her cell-phone and deal with any and all inquiries from Billy or her friends as to where she was or how she was doing. She didn't want to risk the temptation to call or contact them, and if she was to remain like this for a long time, perhaps even indefinitely, the last thing she wanted to do was check up on them via social media and see them living up their young lives as she was doomed to hide away in a retirement village. At this point all Maggie really wanted to do was just to shut out the rest of the world and sleep until the whole thing was over. Easy Springs, as much as she was reluctant to really admit it, was in fact the perfect place for her to do just that. The small town was a very remote gated community that was situated way out in the country side, meaning the likelihood of running into people she knew were so slim as to be none. The walls surrounding Easy Springs were large and stately, and as they made their way slowly through the well decorated gates and headed inside they could quickly see that the cheesy commercials on TV were no joke. The place was simply gorgeous. Every house was large, fancy and new. The air had the summer smell of freshly cut grass and the town itself, from the sidewalks, to the walls and to the market-place in the town's centre were pristine and clean. A healthy amount of people walked around soaking up the remaining sunlight, and to both Maggie and Julie's surprise not everyone looked so ancient as they had anticipated. Granted, the vast majority of people they saw were indeed elderly, but the vibe that emanated from the place was an overtly happy and laid-back one. Julie even thought to herself that with it's sparkling lake and expansive golf course Easy Springs had a holiday resort kind of feel. A lot of these positives were of course lost on Maggie, who tied a scarf around her head, hiding her dull and graying hair as they pulled up to Doris' lavish home.
As Julie fussed with Maggie's bag, containing essentials like toiletries etc. Maggie saw Doris opening her front door to come and greet them. Doris looked so old now Maggie thought, trying to ignore the obvious irony in that thinking. Her Great Aunt had just turned 72, and as Maggie hadn't seen her since she was around 11 years old, the difference in appearance from then to now seemed somewhat dramatic. All together Doris was not an unattractive woman for her age and not unlike Maggie's current appearance, Doris held some youth in her eyes, although this was blocked in part by her chain-beaded glasses. Her visage though, was that of a woman who had clearly been stunning in her youth. On the other side however, Doris was a large woman. Noticeably bigger than Maggie in fact. Her short, mature and clearly dyed dark hair was complimented by her hoop earrings, Doris' style of dress being a little gaudy. With her over-sized bracelets and overtly glitzy necklace that dangled and chimed ever so slightly as she waddled along the garden path up to the car, waving her sharp red nails around with a folksy turn. Julie looked across at Maggie, a sincerity in her eyes.
'Are you ready to go inside?' she asked.
Maggie simply nodded.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Doris' living room was subjected to long bouts of awkward
silences as the three women sat in there, a cup of tea either in their hands or
off by their side, with Maggie having quickly told Doris that she 'didn't drink
tea' and so her cup sat cooling rapidly on the little doily decorated coffee table
ahead of her. The conversation was as one could imagine, awkward and difficult,
with poor Doris trying her best to keep things light and casual in among the
horror and madness of this situation, her eyes unable to hide her shock and
worry whenever she looked in her Grand Niece's direction. She kept asking Julie
and Maggie the everyday, basic kind of questions you would any relative you
hadn't seen in such a long time. 'So how have you been? How's college going?
Are you seeing anyone? Any plans for the summer?' The hapless old woman was
simply trying her best, and Maggie did realize this despite the annoying line
of her questioning.
'Maggie's just finished her final year at White Peaks Aunt
Doris' Julie said, trying to play along in the strained normality 'She
graduates in a couple of months, right honey?'
Maggie barely nodded as Julie turned to her, lifting her
weary eyes to her mother briefly before sinking them back into the now
undrinkable tea ahead of her.
'Well...that's fantastic dear, well done Maggie' Doris said
an uneasy smile adorning her face as she tried to express her very genuine
elation at hearing of Maggie's success.
Maggie sat in a single chair adjacent to the couch her
mother was sitting on, and even further away from the entirely separate chair
her Aunt Doris was sitting in. Maggie's matronly new frame feeling
uncomfortable but made far worse by her sheepish and withdrawn posture. The
aged girl managed a simple 'thanks' in response to her Great Aunt.
This strained atmosphere persisted for sometime, Maggie
staying largely quiet and breaking only for one word responses to Doris'
astoundingly irrelevant questions in such a drastic situation. After perhaps
two and a half hours of such an atmosphere Maggie finally shifted the dynamic
by asking where the bathroom was. She plodded off down the hallway to the
downstairs bathroom as her mother fretted with widening eyes at the sight of
her daughter's swaying, fat behind that was barley contained by the purple
sweat-suit. This moment did leave Julie and Doris a chance to talk in private
however.
'Are those your clothes?' Doris asked with some hesitation.
'Yes' Julie sadly sighed 'It was the only thing in the whole
house that fit her well enough. I've never even worn it before, it was always
too big for me.'
Doris leaned forward and with a seriousness capturing her
hushed tones she replied.
'Julie dear, what on Earth has happened to that poor girl?'
Doris was shaking her sullen head, her jowls swishing slightly with the
movement.
With watery eyes Julie pinched her hand against the rim of
her black glasses, removing them for just a moment to wipe the tears away.
'I wish I knew Aunt Doris. I wish I knew. I'm going to
investigate this...this...witch talk when I get back home. I'm going to go to
Shelley's bar and ask around, see if she's been there before, if...if she knows
anyone. I'm going to find the terror that did this to my daughter and I'm going
to make her fix it I swear.'
Doris nodded along with Julie's words, understanding and respecting
the conviction with which she spoke. She felt however that the worst case
scenario had to be addressed, and choosing her words carefully she slowly
responded.
'I believe you Julie. I know you, you're a good mother, a
great mother, you'd do anything for your girls. But dear, the possibility might
exist...what if this can't be undone?'
Julie turned sharply to meet her Aunt's gaze, sniffing the
tears away.
'It can and it will. I'm not giving up on my daughter. That
is not an option.'
She possessed that same tenacious streak that her daughter
was so famous for, it's where Maggie had learned to be so strong and direct.
'I understand Julie but it's something you're going to have
to think about. I hope to high heaven that it's not the case. I hope that when
she comes out of that bathroom she walks through here leaping and yelling, back
to her beautiful young self again...but Julie I'm going to be frank...I've
never seen anything like this before.'
Julie understood her Aunt's words and she was right. This
might really be it for Maggie now. Julie cast her eyes downward, fighting back
tears.
'I know...I...I just wouldn't know what to do if she was
stuck like this. All I want to do is save her Aunt Doris but I don't know how.'
Doris placed a reassuring hand upon Julie's arm, her rings
and gaudy bracelets glistening slightly in the dimming sunlight from the window
as she did.
Maggie returned from the bathroom a few minutes later, still
meek in her movements as the aged 23 year old was so unused to the slight
ripples in her fat, namely her meaty thighs. Her eyes were a little red and
puffy when she entered the room, clearly from crying although she didn't want
to address it. Her quiet bathroom sobbing had been in response to her now
considerably chunkier thighs squishing and spreading in their softness as she
had sat down on the toilet seat, the moment yet another hard reminder of her
odd circumstance, that she was now a fat old woman. Maggie looked down at her
mother sitting in the outdated looking couch, cutesy flowers in its design and
knew that it was probably time to move things along. Her mother was clearly
reluctant to leave and Maggie's mind turned to thoughts of her young sister
Ashley, who by now was probably getting worried and scared, unsure of where her
mother and sister had gone.
'You should probably get going' Maggie said, standing
awkwardly above her mother.
Julie looked up at her daughter, standing there with her
arms folded beneath her heavy bosom. The purple sweat-suit top riding up again,
exposing her soft, pale stomach. It seemed like Maggie didn't notice this time,
or perhaps she didn't care.
'For Ashley' she continued 'She'll be wondering where you
are.'
'I don't have to leave just yet if you don't want me to,
Susan's parents are--'
'No it's fine' she interrupted 'I need to get settled in
here anyway.'
Julie could tell from her daughter's expression that this
whole ordeal was beginning to tire her out, Maggie just wanted to move things
along and get the emotional goodbyes over-with. Julie also recognized that
Maggie was right about Ashley, the poor girl had been left completely out of
the loop and was more than likely terrified at her sudden inability to go home
from her friend's house, smart enough to know when something was wrong.
Julie stood up and smiled sadly at Maggie, her daughter's
body language withdrawn and a little stand-offish. Maggie could barley look at
her mother as she hefted up her heavier breasts in discomfort, her belly
pushing through and forcing her top to rise once more with the movement. Julie
nodded in agreement with her daughter as she grabbed her coat from the rack in
the hall. The situation was tense and uneven as Maggie stood still, her eyes
staring down at her feet which was a habit of hers in such awkward situations.
She was wearing plain white sneakers that she barely ever wore as they were the
only shoes that had still managed to fit her fattened feet, and Maggie was
reluctant to come out and say it but they still weren't comfortable. Julie held
her bag, ready to leave when she and Doris said their goodbyes.
'Tell Ashley that her Aunty Doris said hi' Doris said,
squeezing her niece tight.
'I will' she replied, patting her Aunt's back.
Julie now stood in the doorway, the door already open as Maggie
lumbered slowly over to her mother. As she got closer the emotions proved to be
too much for Julie and she embraced her daughter with a readiness Maggie hadn't
quite prepared for. Much to her own surprise, Maggie felt a tight pull in her
lower back, a creak...and she involuntary let out a little moan.
With her arms still gracing her daughter's shoulders Julie
pulled back, concerned.
'Is everything alright Maggie?'
The aged girl could feel the pain in her back persist. It
wasn't excruciating by any means, but felt like a tightness, preventing her
from moving as fast or as flexible as she'd like. Maggie just gulped and tried
to ignore it, not wanting to alarm anyone.
'I'm fine mom, honest' she said, her smile contorted
slightly beneath the weight of her fatter features. Julie took her gentle, far
younger looking hand and stroked the side of her daughter's aged face. She was
choked up as she leaned in and softly kissed her right cheek.
'I'll fix this Maggie. I promise you' She said with a quiet
certainty before making her her way out the door and towards the car. Maggie
and Doris stood at in the doorway together, watching Julie retreat down the
perfect little garden path. Getting closer to her car, Julie took a look around
her Aunt Doris' neighborhood. This place Easy Springs was truly scenic, like
some suburban dream town. This relieved her somewhat, knowing that her daughter
would be able to take some rest from all of the stress and panic in a place
that evoked such calm and peace.
Opening her car door Julie turned back towards the house and
saw her daughter and Aunt waving sadly from the doorway. Her daughter clad in
the ill-fitting sweat-suit, from this distance looking like some plump little
grandma whose walking clothes had shrunk in the wash. Maggie and Doris looking
like just two fat little old ladies waving off their younger relative. It
sickened her to think of her own daughter this way, to see her like this. No
mother should get to see her daughter in old-age she thought to herself, it was
like some cruel punishment. The worst and most unnerving part, which had been
in the back of her mind since the change but really only now was she allowing
herself to reflect upon; was that Maggie, standing there next to Doris looked
so much like her own mother Margaret. She retroactively kicked herself in this
moment for naming her daughter after her own mother, thinking at the time it
was a sweet gesture and hoping that it would allow for two separate generations
to find some common ground and kinship in one another as Maggie got older and
their relationship grew. But her mother had been dead for a long time, and
Maggie had been changed in ways she couldn't have ever imagined, it all felt
like some twisted joke.
Julie shook off these thoughts
as she got in the car finally, turning on the radio to try and get herself
focused and calm for Ashley when she returned home...and really just for the
long drive back. There was a lot to think about on the drive ahead...a lot. She
waved and smiled one final time through the window, trying not to burst into
tears as she did and then drove off down the road. Not quite able to look back.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Maggie watched on as her mother's car disappeared around the
corner of the street, a single tear scorching her plump cheek as she tried to
keep herself composed. Doris had retreated back inside the house and she was
unsure of how to proceed now that Julie was gone and the transformed Maggie had
been left in her charge. She briefly looked back at her Grand Niece standing
there in the doorway with a distant, longing look. She knew that Maggie liked
to play it tough, like she could handle anything that was thrown her way, and
that had been why she ushered her mother out of the door with such urgency. But
Doris could read on the aged girl's face a simple fact, she was already missing
her mom, and she was feeling alone. Doris walked back into the living room as
she decided that the best way to keep Maggie feeling normal was to act normal,
not ignore what had happened to her or pretend like the situation wasn't
completely and utterly insane and terrifying, but would simply create an
atmosphere where Maggie's change wasn't constantly dwelt upon. Where they can
simply lay back and relax in comfort and peace. Doing as she normally would then,
Doris lowered her generous backside into her favorite chair, sighing with some
relief as she grabbed the remote and began to fuss with the TV.
'Is that your mother away?' Doris asked, looking back
between Maggie and the TV.
'Yes' Maggie said, feeling suddenly very isolated and alone,
the sun setting fairly low across the pristine roofs of the Easy Springs homes.
'Shut the door then dearie, don't want to let all the cold
in.'
Maggie shut the door as asked and headed, hanging there for
just a second more before she made her way back into the living room. She stood
there in the doorway for a moment, her chubby arms still holding up her heavy,
drooping breasts as she surveyed the living room a little more closely.
A quick read of the place revealed that her Great Aunt Doris
really did act her age, with doilies on the coffee table in the room's center
weighted down with two small ceramic cats. A small number of similar such
trinkets, cutesy and quaint in nature were sneaking out of every corner, the
furniture was decorated with an old-fashioned floral print and the curtains
were frilly. Falling just short of a ceramic plate collection on the wall, this
place was certainly the home of a senior citizen. Maggie walked across to the
seat she had been in before at the farther side of the room. The kink in her
back playing up again, she instinctively folded her arm around, placing the
palm of her hand against the aching spot to soothe it. Realizing how she must
have looked with her hand caressing her aching back however, an old lady cliché
if ever there was one, Maggie fiercely threw her arm off the area and stifled a
grunt as she sat her fat rump down in the chair furthest from her Aunt Doris,
the old woman eyeing this brief and painful moment however.
The odd silence which had dominated much of Maggie's day
returned again. The two plump women staring with little effort at the cheesy
soap opera on the TV screen, their minds naturally elsewhere.
'So...' Doris began trying her best to keep the awkwardness
at bay '...is there anything you would like dear? Something to eat maybe?
Something to drink?'
'No it's fi--'
'I can make another cup of tea if you'd like?'
'I do--'
'Ooh that's right sweetheart you don't drink tea. I'm
sorry.'
Doris was nervous and and Maggie could tell. The old woman's
constant interruptions born out of a desire to help Maggie and keep her
comfortable, and Maggie was grateful for the attempt. She herself was finding
it hard to express anything outside of a placid sort of misery, and she knew
that her Aunt was doing her a favour by letting her stay here. Especially given
how long it had been since they had seen each other, she would try to be more
engaging and keep her Great Aunt from bearing the burden of all the
conversations.
'So...what are we watching?' Maggie asked, trying to keep a
mildly normal atmosphere between them, her monotone voice failing to express
any sort of enthusiasm however.
'Oh well...I usually watch my soaps at this time, but you
won't want to watch that I'm sure, we can watch something else if you'd like?'
Maggie shook her head gently, trying to avoid the feeling of
her sagging, flabby face jiggling and flopping with the movement.
'I honestly don't mind, just watch what you like Aunt Doris'
Maggie droned, turning her head back to the TV.
Doris looked over her grand-niece in greater detail,
attempting to take in all of the incredible changes that had befallen her, and
trying to gain some understanding as to just what might have happened. It had
been such a long time since she had even seen Maggie, twelve years ago at her
sister Margaret's funeral. Maggie was only 11 years old at the time, and Doris
could remember her little blonde head looking confused and intimidated by all
of the grieving people around her. She had been unable to understand what had
transpired, not fully, and both Doris and Julie had struggled at the time to
explain her grandmother's death to the young girl. They were close back then,
Doris often accompanying Margaret and her granddaughter on outings and trips
whenever Julie and Derrick (Maggie's father) needed someone to look after her.
She had always slightly envied her sister's relationship with the young girl,
Doris' own children moving across the country fairly young so much so that
she's only actually met one of her four grandchildren in person. Maggie was
simply too young to grasp death in all it's totality, especially something so
sudden and unexpected as a car crash. Both of Maggie's grandparents, Julie's
parents, Margaret and Richard Barnes had died in that tragic accident.
It would be an incredible blow to any child of course,
losing their parents in one fatal moment like that, but for Julie being an only
child the burden of grief had fallen squarely on her shoulders. Doris and a few
other family members had helped Julie out with the funeral arrangements, legal
matters etc. but much to her own shame Doris had quickly began to phase out of
Julie and Maggie's life soon after. She had adored her younger sister, they had
been best friends as well as siblings, and with Margaret now gone a huge part
of her life had gone with her. Julie's own grief made it difficult for Doris to
deal with her own, and despite wanting to be there for her niece, she simply
couldn't bear to stay around for too long during those immediate months
following Margaret's death. The young Maggie even more difficult to face, given
her namesake and the fact she had looked so much like her sister had done way
back when they were children. The way Maggie would sit on the floor and draw
away across numerous sheets of paper, the beginnings of her interest in
fashion, as the adults around her quietly grieved took her right back to
thoughts of her sister Margaret doing the same. Lying on the grass as a young
girl, picking at flowers, not a care in the world. She often liked to remember
her sister that way.
She had felt awful about her lessened role in her niece and
Grand Niece's lives, and after Maggie's father Derrick simply left after her
sister Ashley was born, the guilt had really began to eat away at the old
woman. Those girls needed some support, and she was nowhere to be found in that
desperate time. In a way Doris interpreted Maggie's sudden arrival here now as
some sort of penance for her distance, and she was determined now, as she
looked across Maggie's plump, wrinkled face that she would do all she could to
support Maggie during this trying time.
It was impossible for her not recognize elements of her
sister in the aged girl of course. They had always looked alike, and now that
Maggie had been aged so considerably the features Margaret had began to adopt
in her maturity were fully realized in the older Maggie. Margaret would have
been 65 this year and had died at 53, but Maggie seemed to be somewhere closer
to the age her grandmother would have been, maybe even a little older. Before
Margaret had died she had begun to gain quite a bit of weight, and achieved a
certain matronly plumpness in her late middle-age. Maggie was similarly round
and soft, and overall held the outward appearance of a well-fed grandmother.
Outside of a few notable quirks here and there, namely Maggie's rounder nose
versus her grandmother's sharper one, the resemblance was very strong.
Doris still couldn't wrap her head around what could have
caused all of this however, and it pained her to see what insanity had been
inflicted upon her grand-niece. Maggie just there in the far chair with her
eyes fixed dully to the screen and clearly still in shock, was unable to really
engage in any meaningful conversation with her Great Aunt. It wasn't just that
she looked old Doris realized. When Julie had first phoned so early in the
morning and had tried to explain incoherently and madly what had happened to
Maggie, talk of a witch and a spell or a curse, Doris thought that her niece
was reacting dramatically. She tried to reason both to Julie and to herself
that there had to be some medical explanation for whatever was making Maggie
appear this way, but she could truly see it now....this was no illness.
The turkey wattle neck that hung below her soft double-chin,
the cankles that she could see beginning to form in the exposed skin above
Maggie's sneakers, and most strikingly for Doris the faint liver spots which
dotted the aged girl's hand, made even more apparent against her glossy pink,
manicured nails. She knew these features well because she had lived through
them and with them. There was simply no mistaking it, whatever had happened to
her....Maggie was now an old woman.
'I noticed you holding your back there dear...' Doris began,
trying to break the silence that had taken over the room and knowing that this
issue had to be addressed sooner rather than later, '...are you in any pain?'
Maggie finally turned her blank eyes away from the
television, she hadn't been paying it any attention of course, her mind was
simply buzzing with anxiety and stress, and perhaps still in a great deal of
shock she had shut out everything exterior to her, her Aunt's words cutting
through that fuzziness. Understanding that Doris had seen her sore back granny
moment Maggie breathed somewhat heavily with some embarrassment.
'I didn't want to say anything in front of Mom
but...yeah...just a little'
'Was it a sort of pulling feeling? A tightness?'
'Yes.'
'Can you show me where honey?'
Maggie hesitantly took a sharp pink finger and pointed it to
the side of her back.
'Ah...that'll be your hip dearie'
'My hip?' Maggie asked as she gently gripped the area in
question, wincing ever so slightly.
'Does it still hurt sweetheart?'
'Just a little bit' She looked down at her wrinkled hand,
stroking her wide matronly hip. 'It's probably nothing' she tried to reason
'Probably just from all the stress.'
Doris raised a curious eyebrow above the frame of her
clunky, chained glasses.
'I know what can help with that Maggie. I get a bad hip
myself from time to time.'
Maggie hated the tone of the conversation, recognizing that
any outsider privy to this moment would just be watching two fat old ladies
talking about ailments for their achy hips. It made her feel like she was
ancient, but the truth was while the hip was far from excruciating, the
restrictive pulling sensation was not going away and it was beginning to wear
on her pretty fast.
Maggie sighed with a little defeat as she turned her eyes to
her Aunt 'What do you think I should do?'
Doris smiled sadly at the aching Maggie with an
understanding, empathetic look in her eyes. She was glad that the aged girl was
beginning to feel slightly more comfortable talking and was glad that she was
accepting her help, but she also understood how difficult it must be to try and
address these changes. Doris got herself up from her reclining chair with a bit
of a struggle and walked closer to Maggie.
'Well...hows about I run you a nice hot bath?' she smiled,
placing the back of her hand against her hip, her other hand limp in the air
'That always helps me.'
Maggie hesitated at the thought. All she wanted at that time
was to curl up in a ball and hide herself away from the rest world. A bath
would also mean having to look at herself naked, and the last thing she wanted
to do was take another look at her new chunky, mature features, the very idea
filling her with an anxious dread. It was something she had managed to largely
avoid whilst changing out of her tattered work clothes and into the tight
purple sweat-suit earlier, that process being bad enough given that she was
still currently bulging out of and struggling against the ill-fitting garment.
The twinge of pain in her hip had come on suddenly however, and just the
thought of having to move around at all with such constant restriction was
beginning to wear her out already. Seeing her own naked self was going to have
to happen eventually, and maybe it was better for her to bite the bullet now
and get it over with.
'If you think it would help' she sighed.
Doris nodded and began walking towards the bathroom before
turning once more to Maggie, still sunken awkwardly in the chair, not allowing
herself to get comfortable.
'And besides...' Doris continued, '...we need to get you out
of those clothes dearie, they don't look...well...very comfortable.'
Maggie's hand caressed her soft paunch instinctively. To her
surprise the sweat-suit top was largely shielding her Aunt from what Maggie
considered to be the absolute worst feature of her new body. While all of these
insane changes, the wrinkles, the aches, the dull and graying hair were all
together tragic and embarrassing for the aged 23 year old to deal with, it was
this huge jump in weight that bothered her the most. It was simply so foreign
to her, and she felt disgusted with herself.
That said of course, as Maggie looked back at her Great Aunt
standing just ahead of her, she could read behind her Great Aunt's
old-fashioned spectacles a sense of understanding, a knowing. Maggie may be fat
now, but Doris was bigger. She had worn a flowing, breathable and silky looking
black top that hung about her soft frame and was clearly designed to hide
weight. The kind of clothing, Maggie realized, she was going to need to start
wearing from now on too. Beneath this top however, in such close proximity to
her Great Aunt, Maggie could make out the distinct jiggling blubber of a
sagging paunch, that she had grown to know quite well over the course of her
hectic day. Her own insecurity regarding her new found weight lessened just
ever so slightly when she made this realization, recognizing that her own fat
belly and bingo wings weren't off putting or unseemly for Doris, as these were
things she lived with everyday.
'Yeah...' Maggie said, shakiness in her throat 'They're
um...not the most...flattering.'
Doris waddled down the hallway and towards the stairs to the
bathroom, shouting back to Maggie.
'I picked up some new clothes for you after your mother
phoned hon...' The old woman stopping herself from straying to far, her body
poised against the railing of the bottom stairs to ensure she was heard.
'There's some pajamas, nighties and what not that I'll lay out on your bed for
when you get out of the bath. I should warn you now though Maggie, I bought
them all in a bit of a rush, so I can't really account for how stylish they
might be... ' Doris chuckled away to herself, knowing full well that even she
had been given ample time to prepare for Maggie's arrival, her rather outdated
sense of fashion and style would have conjured a similarly frumpy set of
clothing. The old woman made her way up the stairs, gripping the railing as she
did so.
Maggie shook her head ever so slightly and rolled her eyes.
Being 'stylish' was hardly a priority right now, she thought. Taking a quick
look down at her bulging gut and thick legs that strained her awful purple
sweat-suit, Maggie somewhat humorlessly realized that any clothing that could
hide her newly acquired jiggling bits and didn't squeeze her to do death would
be suitable enough in her eyes for the time being.
'I'm sure they'll be fine' she called back, her gaze
drifting back to the overacted soap opera that had just returned from
commercial break, as Doris began running her a hot bath upstairs.
Maggie had been very careful when she lowered herself into
the tub. She was so unsure of her new body, and after her hip started acting up
she was especially concerned with how frail she might be now. Her hip was just
strained and pulling, nothing drastic, but Maggie had no comparisons for such a
feeling. She had eased into the bath so slowly and precisely as if she might
break. Stripping off the uncomfortable sweat-suit had conjured two drastically
different feelings in Maggie, who at once felt repulsed by the struggle and
wobble that came with every pull and movement, her breasts surging and sagging
forward, her ass rippling with every struggling step....but she had also felt a
great sense of relief once she finally managed to break her new flabby self
free from the confines of such an inappropriate garment for a woman of her
newly gathered girth. Her new gut had sank and heaved a little as she had bent
over the tub, and the sensation was simply awful for Maggie, causing her heart
to sink with a mix of disgust and fear. She had thought that perhaps after
spending the whole day as this dumpy old version of herself that all of the
jiggling blubber and just overall softness of her aged body would begin to be
phased out by her senses. Apparent from her great surprise at seeing her saggy
fat breasts flop and sway in the bathwater however, as her belly formed deep
rolls, she was far from getting over it just yet.
She tried not to pay anymore attention to this aspect of
herself any longer, the squeaking from her flabby ass's friction against the
tub being more than enough to make her feel gigantic without dwelling on every
pocket of fat she now owned. She stared across her aged body, through all of
the bumps and folds and down to her toes that poked out from the water below,
the pink of her nails perfect, unchipped and shiny. It was the only part of her
body that didn't look like it belonged on someone's grandma, and she sat and
stared down at her youthful, girly looking toes as her mind was cast back. She
had only gotten the mani/pedi a week ago, and it was the first real treat she
had allowed for herself in a very long time. One of the only relaxing and fun
departures in-between her bouts of studious research and planning for the busy
summer of work ahead.
Her close friend Hayley had gone with her, the girl rather
shocked to be invited to anything, let alone something as stress-less and as
easy going as a spa day by the often unattainable and uninterested Maggie. It
had been a very long time since the two friends had hung out in such a way,
their time often spent sitting silently next to one another in study sessions
for college, with only the occasional five-ten minute coffee/quick bite to eat
breaks giving them any opportunity to talk and to behave as any normal friends
would and should. This trend in their friendship, and Maggie's increasing
distance from anyone and anything that didn't coincidence with her strict work
schedule had of course been deeply troubling for Hayley. Who in some vain
attempt to bring her friend back from the edge of losing herself entirely to
career and success, labored upon her a speech that was becoming increasingly
familiar to the aloof young 23 year old Maggie.
Maggie had sat there with her eyes closed feeling incredibly
relaxed. A feeling that she didn't permit herself all too often, and was so
engrossed in this mode that Hayley's heart-felt and sincere appeal to her
friend, to stop using the pursuit of her goals as an excuse to give up on her
friends and her social life, fell upon largely deaf ears. Maggie's envious body
was wrapped in a warm, white and thick bathrobe that complimented her tanned,
toned legs. The girls working on her nails doing their job so efficiently and
quietly that Maggie otherwise wouldn't think they were there.
Hayley's eyes were also closed, trying her best to enjoy and
relax in this rare moment of peace with her scarce bestie. Her mind was
animated however, and she tried to make her case in the softest, practical way
she could so as to both get her point across but also maintain the calm of the
atmosphere.
'I wish you would do things like this more often Maggie.
This is nice. We should make it more of a regular thing.'
'I don't think I'd be able to afford this every week
Hayley.'
'You know what I mean. It doesn't have to be a spa day...I
just want to hang out more.'
'We do hang out, all the time'
'I don't just mean in the cafeteria comparing notes. Just
something fun and easy like this...'
Maggie didn't respond.
'...you're still coming to the party right?'
'The end of year one?'
'Yeah...Billy said you were definitely coming.'
Maggie bit her plush and full red lips softly in thought.
'I think I will...yeah' her tone distracted and distant.
The response offered very little reassurance for Hayley, who
decided to quit her line of discussion before this turned into a more heated
argument. At the core of the conflict she was simply worried for her friend.
Hayley wanted to see her succeed of course, to chase her dreams and do well,
but the idea that Maggie did succeed at the cost of her friends, becoming
someone entirely cold and practical in nature scared her. Maggie meanwhile had
put the conversation entirely out of her mind already, and was now reveling in
the warm comfort of her spa experience. She smiled and moaned softly with a
sense of content. That had been a good day. Except...she couldn't remember
farting like that.
Feeling a rip of air emanating
from her fat behind Maggie woke up with a slight jar, the water splashing
frantically about her matronly body, a small collection of bubbles rising to
the surface. Far from the soothing air of her spa day, Maggie came rushing back
to the crazy reality she now inhabited. The reality where she was a plump old
lady with a bad hip, who just farted in the bathtub. For a moment there, at her
emotional lowest, Maggie felt like slipping under the water and just staying
there, never coming back up.
The guest room in Doris' home was fantastically neat and
well kept Maggie noticed, after turning on the light. From the crisp and clean
blue bed-sheets that looked almost professionally made to the sparse, perfectly
positioned ceramic trinkets that were a feature in every room in the house
apparently, it was clear that Doris did not keep company all too often. The
night clothes Doris had mentioned were neatly folded and piled on the bed, and
Maggie could see the rest of her new wardrobe hanging in the opened dresser in
the room's corner. From the small glance in its direction as she made her way
across to the bed, Maggie could tell that Doris wasn't joking earlier when she
had said they might not be the most stylish of items. Maggie was currently
wearing a fluffy and large pink bathrobe that had been borrowed from Doris.
Being the first clothing since the change that really fit her, and in fact was
even a little on the big side for her mature body, Maggie for the first time
all day didn't feel quite so uncomfortable in her new form. After having tied
the belt around her puffy waist however, she was a little taken back by how
much the bathrobe managed to accentuate the larger size of her heaving bosom,
creating this image of her as warm and grandmotherly.
Maggie lifted up the top of a silk set of pajamas, light
blue in color, and her eyes widened as the garment unfolded and then unfolded
again, being large in size.
'Am I really this big?' she thought to herself, her spare
hand travelling downward and inspecting her generous backside with a soft
stroke. A wide, soft and matronly rump.
'Who am I kidding?' she finished her thought with.
Maggie turned to face the door at the sound of a gentle
knock, holding the silky garment against her round body. It was Doris of
course, who stood in the doorway already dressed for bed in a gaudy, yet
comfortable looking purple night-dress, adorned with small red flowers.
'How was the bath dear?' she asked, stepping forward into
the light of the room. Doris was without her glasses and Maggie could finally
see their shared resemblance in the old woman's fierce blue eyes. A distinctive
trait in her mother's side of the family.
'It was really nice...' Maggie said, trying to forget the
process of towel drying her fat body, having to watch and feel bits of her sway
and wobble with every stroke.
'...thank you' she finished.
'You're very welcome. Are you feeling any better? How's the
hip?'
The hot bath, despite being an adventure in body discovery
that Maggie did not want to take, had in fact relieved a lot of the pain from
her sore hip. However it hadn't done the job entirely, and Maggie still felt
generally stiff in her movements, not in any way painful, just restricted.
Maggie was going to tell her Aunt that she felt entirely better, not wanting to
worry her old Aunt any further until her hand once again gave her away, fixing
automatically to her thickened hip and rubbing it slightly without Maggie
really thinking about it. Doris knew the gesture well.
'Still feeling a bit stiff honey?' she asked, sighing
slightly with the answer already so apparent.
Maggie nodded, her eyes staring down at her plump bare feet,
despising feeling so vulnerable and weak. With her father having abandoned the
family so soon after Ashley was born, and at such a critical and vulnerable age
as 16, the younger Maggie learned fast the value of strength and perseverance.
She prided herself on being prepared for the worst in all situations, and to be
fully in control of your own circumstances was a position that Maggie had grown
to desire badly. It was in large part the reason she had fallen so hard into
her work and studies. Deciding that there was simply no time for weakness, no
time to slow down...and yet here she now was, rubbing her bad hip like the
senior citizen she was turning into.
Doris shuffled into the room in her fuzzy purple slippers,
moving across to the small set of bedside drawers which supported the dim lamp.
She leaned down with a bit of a grunt, her fat and sagging behind getting wider
as she lowered. Maggie walked over to the bed, watching her Aunt search for
something inside one of the drawers as she sat her own big backside down on the
bed, it sinking far deeper than she was used to. Doris gripped her knee as she
stood up, holding a clear medium sized bottle of what appeared to be some sort
of gel. She sat down beside her Grand Niece on the bed, it creaking slightly
under the weight of the two fat women.
'What's that?' Maggie asked.
'This....' Doris started, a little hesitant '...this is
arthritis relieving ointment.'
Maggie's eyes widened at hearing the word, and her attempt
to protest was quickly interrupted as Doris continued.
'I know what you're thinking Maggie, don't worry I don't
think that you have arthritis honey, this stuff is just very helpful for aching
joints and what not.'
Doris handed the bottle over to Maggie for her to see
herself.
'I promise it'll help with your hip. You rub this in before
going to bed, especially after having that hot bath, you'll wake up feeling
good as new.'
Maggie held the bottle in her aged hand, attempting to
inspect it but failing to read any of the text in the dim-light of the bedroom.
The fuzzy eyesight had been affecting her since the moment she had woken up
that morning but it was something Maggie planned to address later, not quite
ready to admit to herself that she was probably needing a pair of thick glasses
much in the same vein as her Great Aunt Doris'.
'I use that every night. Keeps me spry as I can be' the old
woman said, chuckling slightly to herself, her second chin becoming more
prominent.
'Every night?' Maggie questioned, her eyes squinting hard
and increasing the intensity of her crow's feet as she tried to read the words
on the bottle.
'Every night. It's part of my nightly routine. I told you I
get a bad hip myself here and there'
Those words conjured a great deal of horror in the aged
Maggie. The thought of having to routinely rub ointment into her creaky joints
every night across her flabby skin, every night for as long as she was stuck
like this. Maggie felt like she was going to be sick. Her poor Aunt Doris of
course was only trying to help alleviate Maggie's pain, but such a concept was
forcing Maggie to truly consider the possibility that there may in fact be no
going back from this. That this was just going to be her life from now on.
Doris could see the expression change on her Grand Niece's face from a sort of
sheepish passiveness to one of extreme sadness. Maggie couldn't contain her
emotions any longer, and as much as she tried to fight it for the sake of her
Aunt and herself, the aged girl burst into tears.
'Oh sweetheart' Doris said, as she placed her fat arm around
the distraught Maggie. She held her Grand Niece close and tight, gently
stroking her back and her graying hair, newly soft and clean from the bath,
hushing her softly.
'Maggie honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.'
Maggie shook her head, and managed to tell Doris that it
wasn't her fault through her sobbing, that she knew she was just trying to help.
Their two soft, fleshy bodies were pressed against one another in this shared
moment of despair, and in the back recesses of Maggie's mind she recognized
that this feeling was weirdly rather comforting.
'Maggie dear, you will beat this. I know you will' Doris
said, a determination and strength forming in her words. Privately of course
she did indeed have her doubts as to whether Maggie could ever really go back
to normal, but that was a conversation for a different time, a lot further down
the line if it ever did need to be had at all. Right now it was all about
reassuring her Grand Niece.
'But what if I don't?' Maggie managed through her streaming
tears 'What if I'm stuck like this forever?'
Maggie sank further into her sobs, Doris trying her best to
calm and soothe her.
'Maggie there must be a way back from this. There must be. I
wish I had all the answers sweetheart, I really do, I wish I could just fix
this whole insane mess right here and now but I can't. All I know is that
you're a strong and determined young woman, you've been through so much
already...if anyone can make it through something like this...it's you.'
Maggie's sobbing slowed somewhat after hearing her Grand
Aunt's kind and encouraging words. She wiped at her face, sniffing the tears
back before turning to look at her Aunt.
'T-thank you...' she said, smiling sadly, still fighting
back the out-pouring of sadness.
Doris returned the solemn smile back at Maggie, who seemed
to be calming down now. She patted the aged girl on the back very gently before
struggling somewhat to her slipper clad feet.
'Right...its time for bed I think' she said with a light
tone, trying to change the atmosphere of the room.
Maggie still sat on the edge of the bed with the bottle of
arthritis relieving ointment in her hands. Her well kept pink nails flicking
the edges of the wrapper just slightly. Doris now held her hand against the
handle on the other side of the door, ready to close it.
'I meant what I said dear...' she said, forcing Maggie to
look up from the bottle '...I believe you can get through this. We just need to
keep focused, and stay hopeful.'
Maggie nodded in agreement, her eyes drying.
'I'll try Aunt Doris'
Doris nodded with a sense of light reassurance.
'I know you will. Good night dear.'
With that, Doris shut the door behind her and waddled off to
her own bedroom for a good night's rest. The day had been hard and difficult
for her too, and there was still a lot to deal with in the days ahead. Not a
particularly religious woman, Doris found herself to her own surprise praying
privately for good fortune to fall upon her Grand Niece. Praying for someone,
anyone to lift this terrible and mysterious curse from Maggie and to let her
live her young life in peace.
Maggie meanwhile had gotten dressed in the silky blue
pajamas her Aunt had laid out for her. Their plush and rich texture feeling
cool and soothing against the freshly cleaned, soft skin of her new body.
Unlike her miserable experience earlier in the day in the restrictive tight
sweat-suit, the large silky PJ's were practically a breeze to put on. Sliding
gently up her soft, fat legs and encasing her rounded body. It was a real
relief for Maggie to be wearing something that actually fit her, although she
did grimace slightly as she ran her hands across the ridges and folds in the
material brought upon by her significant love handles and side-fat. As she
pulled the covers back and prepared to get into bed Maggie jerked a little as
the stiffness in her hip began to flare just slightly. Her hands acted on
instinct once more, her wrinkled fingers caressing her soft side as her face
pursed slightly, her wrinkles intensifying as she did. She closed her eyes for
a moment and exhaled heavily, trying to ignore the sensation to the best of her
abilities but she knew it was still there, just waiting for her to make a
movement to make itself known again. Reluctantly Maggie turned her head to
glance at the the bedside set of drawers. The ointment that had spurred such
anxiety in her just moments before was sitting on top.
Maggie gulped a little and picked the little clear bottle up
before sitting with a bit of a grunt back down onto the bed. She stared at the
ointment in her right hand, and her liver-spot sprinkled left hand poised and
ready to receive it. She hated this, every second of it, but at this point
there was simply no denying...she needed it.
With an exasperated expression Maggie squeezed the contents
of the bottle into her hand. The ointment itself, a translucent gel type
material. With her dry hand she pulled down the side of her silky pajama pants,
exposing her round, jiggling backside, and with a frustrated hand she began
rubbing the cool gel into her exposed hip. As she did, she could feel her damp
fingers sinking into her spongy flesh, and even odder was the sudden
realization...something that she hadn't even considered....that it
felt....good. Maggie started to rub the area of skin with more force now, her
fingers probing the flabby area deeper with each subsequent rub. She didn't
know if perhaps it was some sort of placebo, but the hip had experienced an
instant sense of relief upon meeting the soothing ointment of the bottle. It
wasn't long before Maggie started to rub the material into other parts of her
mature body as well. She wasn't thinking too much about what she was doing, it
was as if she was on auto-pilot, caught up in the realization that rubbing
special old lady cream into her achy joints was actually a nice sensation. She
started with the other hip, her back, then her thighs and knees, her elbows and
neck, and completely caught up in the odd sensuality of the moment even began
to absent-mindedly rub the cool gel into her sagging paunch, probing her soft,
plump belly button with her creamy finger.
She placed the ointment back down on the bedside drawers
once she was finally finished, more than a little surprised with the little
bottle in how it had proved to so rewarding a task to apply. And even more
surprised with herself for enjoying the experience so much. She tried to think
why she would rub it into her fat stomach, which was still her most despised
aspect of her transformation, trying to put out of her mind that the quivering
flesh of her gut felt...kinda nice...she discover much to the comfort of her
sanity that rubbing the gel into her stomach actually held some practical
benefits, namely in preventing stretch-marks. Her hip stiffness was dissipating
fast, and she knew then that her Aunt Doris would be proven right come morning,
that it'd be gone entirely. She felt prepared finally, to go to bed.
The day had been long, insane, complicated and arduous and
it was now truly catching up with her. In her silk pajamas she glided into the
bed and got herself comfortable before reaching to turn the lights out.
As she sat there in the dark, in this new house, bed and
body she pondered what would come of her in the morning. Part of her held onto
hope that she might wake up as her normal young self again, or perhaps would
wake to learn this had all been some elaborate nightmare, but her practical
nature prevented such thinking from setting in. She knew that she was going be
fat and old when she woke up, and she knew she was going to be fat and old when
she awoke the day after. The soothing experience of the ointment had been a
strange way to end a strange night, and as surprisingly nice as that experience
had felt, Maggie was deeply frightened by what it could entail. The idea that
there may be aspects of this change that could be pleasurable causing her to
resent the thought processes of her mind. There was nothing good about this,
she argued with herself, she had always enjoyed rubbing moisturizer and skin
cream into her toned, young skin who didn't It was no different now just
because she was fat and old. There was so much more to fear about this
mysterious transformation, so much that she still simply didn't know. Soft
tears filled her wrinkled eyes as the thought struck her once again that the
ointment might very well end up becoming part of her 'nightly routine' just like
her Aunt Doris. She might just be stuck like this forever, spending the rest of
her days as some dumpy old grandma. Her Aunt Doris' words haunted her,
repeating endlessly until she eventually drifted off into a tear soaked sleep.
'Every night dear....every night.'
Maggie's dreams that night had been disjointed and jarring.
Really more a string of images and moments than any one sequence of events. She
had pictured herself standing in the doorway of her Aunt Doris' home in Easy
Springs, waving her liver-spot touched hand at a shaded figure at the end of
the path who she couldn't quite make out. Squinting her older eyes in
concentration however revealed that this figure was Billy, who stood there
waving back, a sense of grief upon his face...tears in his eyes.
Next she pictured her normal self, young and skinny once
more sitting down excitedly on the edge of her guest bed in Doris' home opening
a box. The box itself was extravagant and glistening, a shimmering silver color
and clearly containing something of serious value. It certainly was for Maggie
as it held inside her unequivocally favorite, most cherished shoes. Cute little
black boots with a velvet finish that Maggie swore by, wearing them with nearly
everything. The girl's expression was beaming as she tore them out of the box
like an overdue Christmas gift, marveling at them just briefly before hurriedly
fitting them over her bare feet...but something wasn't quite right. The shoes
were struggling against her, tight and uncomfortable, Maggie's expression
panicked and fraught with confusion.
She moaned audibly as she continued to fight her foot
downward, pressing it down deeper and deeper with great effort. In her struggle
Maggie noticed that the room around her had changed suddenly, a small army of ceramic
cats and doilies appearing on every shelf and cabinet in the room as well as
the windowsill, and as she was taken aback by this surprising development her
foot finally fell into the shoe, a serene comfort passing over her...only...as
she looked down, Maggie discovered to her horror that the shoe was different.
The petite black boots had disappeared, and in their place was a pair of
sensible, conservative looking navy pumps with a short heel. They fit perfectly
now.
Maggie's clothes followed suit as her exposed, toned legs
forward fading into flesh colored hose, her trendy, form fitting dress dividing
and becoming an old-fashioned, outdated and frumpy navy skirt and white blouse
combination as her young body began inflating with fat. The poor girl could
feel her stomach bubbling with flab as her thighs thickened and her breasts
began to heave and droop under the increasing weight, her hair was rapidly
graying and she could even feel the wrinkles etching into her face like a stone
cutter to some marble. She was screaming now.
This horrific ordeal was cut short by a far more serene, but
also perhaps more unsettling scenario. Maggie was sitting in Doris' favorite
chair, reclined, comfortable and placid watching mind-numbing daytime
television, a pair of knitting needles by her side which she went to reach for
before she was interrupted by the sound of a small young voice off to her side.
Maggie turned her wrinkled neck to meet the confused stare of her younger
sister Ashley, who sat upon the outdated couch looking straight at Maggie, a
look of confusion across the child's face and a little upset in her expression.
'Granny Maggie?' the young girl asked.
'Yes dearie?' Maggie croaked back.
'Do you know what happened to my sister?'
Maggie awoke from her nightmares with a heart racing start.
She was panting out of breath, her hand against her fat bosom. As she calmed,
she sniffed hard and realized that she had heard a blunt snorting sound upon
waking. It didn't take her long to realize that she had woke herself up
snoring. Her mother's reasoning that it was probably 'just this once I'm sure'
clearly an incorrect assumption.
Settling now, Maggie took a second to observe her morning
surroundings. Just as she had anticipated, nothing had changed. She was still
fat and she was still old. Her aged hands caressed her soft lump of a belly
over the covers, wearing a tired and defeated face as she did so. She sighed,
trying in vain to blink the morning fogginess away from her eyes, it only
clearing slightly before she remembered that her eyesight wasn't as good as it
had been two days ago, and was more than likely going to need to talk to her
Aunt Doris very soon about getting her her own pair of glasses, the thought
making her shudder. She took one last look at her larger body resting
comfortably beneath the sheets before she heaved her far heavier self out of
bed with a bit of difficulty. Her inspecting hands traveled to her back as she
stood there, and to her relief the unusually sensual ointment had done the trick.
Her hip felt normal, or as normal as it perhaps should for an overweight old
lady such as she now was. Maggie was initially unsure of how to start the day,
everything still being so foreign and unusual and confusing, before she was
distracted by an intoxicating aroma emanating from downstairs.
Maggie waddled down the steps, holding onto the railing for
some support as she followed the inviting smell. Her Aunt Doris was already
awake and was humming away to herself some long forgotten tune as she worked busily
away in the kitchen. The old woman was preparing a hardy and substantial
breakfast, her large purple nightdress flowing about her thick body as she
pottered from one side of the kitchen to the other. Maggie entered the
expansive room, for a moment silently watching as her Great Aunt multi-tasked
with a scary precision. Cooking bacon, sausages, eggs, hash-browns and probably
something else that Maggie couldn't currently see as she also grabbed plates
and cutlery from the overhead cabinets. The smell was incredible, which was
especially odd for the strictly vegetarian Maggie. She had converted to the
veggie lifestyle about three years ago and hadn't looked back since, never
deviated once and yet...the idea of consuming such a greasy, fattening, meaty meal
was causing the aged girl to salivate slightly from the corners of her mouth.
Maggie moved further into the room and yawned a 'Morning' at her Aunt Doris,
who turned with a slight fright.
'Oh you're up dear?' she said, putting down the pan and
beginning to fill the first plate with the spoils of her cooking. 'Couldn't be
better timing, I was just going to come wake you up for some breakfast. Getting
a little late in the day to be sleeping in now anyway.'
Maggie sat down in a chair against the well-crafted and
expensive looking kitchen table. This room was showing off some of the modern
flourishes with which a lot of the Easy Spring houses were designed. Gleaming
tiles in a classy black and white color layout.
'What time is it?' Maggie asked, scratching absent mindedly
at her fleshy thigh.
'Oh just going on half 7 now'
Maggie chuckled slightly at her Aunt Doris' suggestion that
this was 'a little late in the day'. She was also confused at having woke up at
such a time, feeling as if she had greatly overslept when she awoke.
'It's only half 7?'
'Only?' the old woman retorted 'That's pretty late for me I
must say, I've been up and about for about 45 minutes or so now, shameful that
I'm not even dressed yet.'
Maggie scratched the straw/grey hair atop her rounded head.
'I could have sworn I had slept in late. It feels like the
afternoon.'
'Oh I'm always up at the crack of dawn dearie' Doris said,
her limp wrist waving about in expressive fashion as she lowered the brimming
plates down onto the table. 'Early to bed and early to rise, that's what I
always say' she continued, taking a seat across from Maggie. 'Although, you
just fall into that kind of routine when you're our--'
Doris halted her words, forgetting herself.
'uh...when you're...my age' she grumbled in a poorly thought
bid to correct herself.
Maggie had noticed the slip-up, being hyper-conscious to
language and treatment that denoted her as being the old woman her body showed
her to be. She ignored it however, knowing that it was accidental and
privately, sadly recognizing that it was in fact true. They were definitely
around the same age now. She hadn't thought particularly deep on this subject,
finding a likely number for her new, significantly older age. However she
couldn't help but hold some kind of sadistic curiosity as to what it might be.
Knowing that whatever it was truly, was always going to be too old but still
slightly eager to know nonetheless.
She compared her new body to that of her Aunt Doris, who had
just recently turned 72 a few months prior. Doris was a larger woman than
Maggie, this was clearly apparent by just her width alone, and although Maggie
certainly had adopted a slight plodding in her gait common among older women of
some girth as she now was, Doris' movements could only be defined strictly as a
struggling waddle. Doris was generally just more jowly and sagging than Maggie
was, her breasts especially resting on the crest of her sizable belly. Maggie's
own breasts had gotten significantly bigger and fatter, and they did sag to a
degree, but again just seemed generally younger than those of her Great Aunt,
whose bosom was less 'impressive' so to speak, being a little closer to the
deflated side of the empty to fat ratio. They had both been fortunate enough to
avoid any serious wrinkling, and this was perhaps a trait that ran throughout
all the women in their family as they got older, but Maggie also recognized and
resigned herself to the idea that the weight she despised so much was truly
what kept the deeper wrinkles and more haggard skin at bay, her skin instead
being soft and plump. From all of this information, Maggie roughly guessed and
placed herself as being somewhere in her mid-late sixties. The conclusion
entirely unreassuring of course, as it would be for any attractive young 23
year old girl to understand herself as embodying the traits and physicality of
a flabby mature woman in her upper sixties.
Maggie stared down at the sizable, full plate in front of
her. Wanting, but severely struggling to hold on to her veggie principles and
protest the eating of such a celebratory display of greasy meat.
'I'm sorry Aunt Doris but I'm actually a ve--'
Her words fell dead as the smell hit her nostrils. She
hadn't eaten anything all day yesterday and the steaming hot, freshly cooked,
mountainous portion ahead of her was making her far roomier stomach gurgle
involuntarily.
'What was that hon?' Doris asked innocently as she forked at
her own hearty meal.
Maggie paused in hesitation.
'Nevermind' she smiled, grabbing her fork and knife and
digging in to the spread with some degree of rush.
The two fat old women scoffed their substantial breakfasts
hurriedly, making involuntary moans of pleasure as each succulent bit of food
passed their lips. Maggie was acting on auto-pilot once again as she had done
with the ointment the night before, her three year objection to eating meat
having entirely vanished in this flurry as she was unable to control her new
body's appetite. Her Great Aunt eyed up the aged girl as she stuffed her
fattened face. The slight wrinkles around Maggie's plush lips contorting and
stretching as she chewed, making slight slopping noises that she clearly was
unaware of. As Maggie smacked her lips, her subdued jowls jiggling with every
bite, Doris felt simultaneous pity and relief for the aged girl.
While she obviously enjoyed a
small feast for breakfast herself from time to time, such a spread was no
regular occurrence in her household. This was all simply for Maggie's benefit,
as she knew from her own experience that with her Grand Niece now being a large
woman she would require more substantial portions of food to feel satisfied in
her hunger, and this coupled with the knowledge that Maggie had eat nothing the
day prior, alerted Doris to the understanding that Maggie would simply be
ravenous. She didn't feel entirely positive about this small breakfast banquet
as she didn't want to encourage the changed girl to eat like this on a regular
basis. She had put on enough weight in her transformation already, however as a
big bellied woman herself, Doris preempted this level of hunger in Maggie, and
saved the aged girl the embarrassment of having to ask for bigger portions or
extra at every meal. And Maggie she spied, was looking more than satisfied as
she absent mindedly licked up bits of ketchup with a wandering tongue against
her sagging cheek and made that backwards breathing noise in the back of her
throat that fat people make when they eat too fast. Doris hoped privately that
this would not become the norm for her Grand Niece, who only two days ago was
healthy, fit and slender and was now at this moment in time embodying all the
key traits, of a run of the mill fatty.
The two mature women sat in the living room in their
respective chairs, allowing the meal to settle in their sizable guts. Maggie
couldn't help but feel comfortable in herself at that moment, the meal her Aunt
had provided had hit the spot in just the right way. Despite the sizable
portions she had cleaned the whole plate and didn't feel full or stuffed at
all, simply content. For that brief moment Maggie was distracted from all of
the madness that had befallen her, and was allowing herself to embrace, ever so
slightly, that satisfactory feeling.
As she sat there in the chair farthest across from her Aunt,
watching terrible daytime TV in an easy quiet, Maggie's mind gradually began to
pull itself away from the post-breakfast haze. She did feel nice and she did
feel satisfied...but the aged girl's realization of this fact generated within her
some light anxiety. Her eyes lit up as she noticed what her hand was doing,
patting contently at the swell of her belly, her chubby body responding
positively to being fed in such a way. This instinctual hand was becoming a
greater nuisance to the aged girl. Still clad in their respective pajamas and
night-dresses, the two older women's lazy moment of digestion was interrupted
by the ringing of the house phone. It was within arm's reach of Maggie, who was
going to throw it over to her Aunt before Doris told her that it would most
likely be her mother. Julie had told Doris she would phone first thing in the
morning, although to the 72 year old woman 8:20 was not 'first thing.'
Maggie held the receiver in her wrinkled hands and with a
slight nervousness answered.
'Um...hello?'
'Hi Aunt Doris, its Julie...is Maggie there? I've been dying
to talk to her.'
Maggie held the phone away from her ear for just a second,
internally repulsed that her own mother couldn't recognize her voice on the
phone.
'It's me Mom' she said, accentuating the wrinkles around her
lips as she pursed them.
'Oh..Maggie! Hey sweetheart. I'm sorry you just sounded so
much like your Aunt Doris there.'
Maggie swallowed, letting the badly worded comment slide.
'So...' Julie began again '...has there been any
developments? Are you any better?' Julie knew from her daughter's deepened,
scratchier voice on the other end of the phone that she was no better at all,
but it was something she simply had to ask. Her head downcast and her lips half
bitten as she had talked.
'No. No changes' Maggie said, raising her eyes to the
liver-spots that faintly decorated her spare hand 'I'm still...well...old.'
Julie let her head fall against the wall with a slight knock
at hearing the defeat in her daughter's matured voice. Doris had gotten up from
her chair at this point, deciding to potter about upstairs and get changed and
ready for the day so as to leave Maggie to converse with her mother in private.
She could only imagine what must have been going through Julie's head at that
time, and how she would manage to explain Maggie's sudden disappearance all to
the innocent young Ashley.
'It's only been the first day Maggie, this might take some
time but we'll get through it sweetheart.'
'Yeah...sure.' Maggie droned, clearly not as hopeful as her
mother.
'So...' Julie tried to change the tone of the already heavy
atmosphere of their conversation 'How was your first night with Aunty Doris?
Did you get settled in okay?'
'Um yeah...' Maggie tried to match her mother's light
approach, not wanting to mention that she had spent all of yesterday
discovering new little signifiers of old age from aching hips to poor eyesight
in between bouts of jiggling flesh and periodic sobbing, '...things were...good.
We didn't do much, just sort of watched TV for a bit and then went to sleep.
Doris has been great though. Really helpful.'
'That's great to hear honey. I'm glad she's keeping things
calm for you. That's what you need right now, just a lot of peace and quiet.'
There was a slight lull in the conversation, Maggie could
detect there was more her mother wished to say.
'So I spoke to Billy' she blurted out from the other end of
the phone.
Maggie's eyes softened at the sound of her boyfriend's name.
Ever since texting him some rushed and rambling story about a severe illness as
an excuse for her mysterious absence, Maggie had kept him largely out of her
mind. Naturally her immediate concerns and worries all revolved around her
fattened, older body and trying to put up with all of the new sensations and
changes that had befallen her physically...but she also perhaps kept Billy out
of her mind on purpose as a means of making it all slightly easier for her.
Hearing his name brought him screaming to Maggie's attention
once more. The images from her nightmare the night previous, of her waving a
wrinkled hand at his saddened and distraught young face. She missed him, and
she wanted more than anything else to be with him now, but she also understood
that she had to keep him as far away as possible, both physically and mentally.
Maggie reasoned that seeing Billy or hearing from him would only make this
whole ordeal that much more painful for her, and it was the main reason she had
left her phone with her mother. Knowing in herself that she would have been
tempted to reach out to him somehow, or at the very least check what he was up
to via social media, but she knew that such a road would only lead her
spiraling further into depression and fear. The negative thoughts already
creeping into her mind. How could she ever expect him to understand what had
happened to her? How could she ever expect him to stay with her when she looked
old enough to be his grandmother? She shook her aged head slightly, casting off
these damning thoughts.
'Oh...you did?' she finally responded 'What did you guys
talk about? What did he say?'
Maggie could hear her mother sigh.
'He was waiting on the porch when I got back to town.'
'He was?'
'Yep. The poor thing he was so upset, he didn't know what to
think. I let him in the house for a while so we could talk, so I could
explain.'
Maggie could feel herself getting emotional hearing of
Billy's own struggle. They had been through so much together, a lot of ups and
downs in each of their personal lives and a lot of hurdles for them both to
jump to make their relationship work. It had been a long and trying road for
the two of them, but it had been so worth it in the end, as it had ultimately
made them a stronger couple. Despite her ability to at times come off as aloof
or even dismissive towards her loved ones, Maggie truly did care a great deal
deep down. She and Billy having in the last year especially now finally feeling
secure in their relationship. But with this mysterious change to contend with,
now all of that progress might be undone.
'What did you say to him?' she said, a slight urgency to her
husky voice.
'So he was trying to understand the message you had sent
him. I stuck to your story about the hospital and the illness, I told him that
you were in a secure room there and that and no-one was allowed to see you.
That even I had restricted access.'
'Sounds like you put more thought into it than I did'
'Yeah, I kept a lot of the details vague, said that the
doctors weren't sure what had happened to you exactly but they knew it was
serious enough to require immediate attention and that they said it had to be
dealt with in the severest of manners. He bought it, the poor kid. He finished
his coffee and headed back to his apartment in a bit of a daze. Said he had to
let Hayley and everyone else know. '
Julie listened as her daughter sighed heavily down the line.
'I just wish there was an easier way' Maggie finished, her
wrinkled eyes closed in contemplation.
'I know sweetheart, so do I. I told Ashley that you had gone
abroad with work related stuff and that you might be gone for a while. I didn't
want to scare her with the locked away in a hospital story.'
'Yeah, good thinking the last thing I want to do is scare
her...or Billy for that matter....I hate that I'm putting everyone through
this.'
'Maggie honey this is not your fault. That wicked woman did
this to you, and I meant it when I said I'd find that monster and get her to
fix this mess.'
Maggie rolled her eyes slightly. She admired her mother's
courage and determination, but she knew that the strange woman was never going
to show up at Shelley's, or perhaps anywhere else ever again. The circumstances
of their first meeting being so strange and unexpected.
'I know Mom. I appreciate all the help.'
'You just stay strong honey you hear me? You'll beat this. I
know you will.'
'Thanks Mom. I love you.'
'I love you too Maggie'
It had been a couple of minutes since the phone-call with
her mother and Maggie remained unmoved in her chair. Still in the comfortable
silky blue pajamas in a semi vegetative state, her proto-cankle topped feet
sinking into the warm rug below her, her eyes fixed to the screen ahead and
paying it no true attention as she pondered over a number of things. The
mention of Billy had caused her to enter a deep contemplation regarding her
relationship with her boyfriend, which was something she had been actively
trying to avoid ever since this whole thing started.
Maggie had no idea how long this terrible change would go on
for of course. Nothing to indicate one way or the other if this would end up
being temporary and how long it would last if it was. She was even beginning to
hold some serious reservations and doubts as to whether this would ever end.
Her aged hand stroked her fattened face, her pink nail gently scraping the fold
of her double-chin, softly following its deep line. 'Is this just who I am
now?' she thought to herself, 'What if I'll never be young again?' If that were
the case, what would or could the next step possibly be? What would that mean
for her future? She would have to give up on her dreams of taking the fashion
industry by storm, the very idea of a plump old woman sitting down to an
interview, trying to get her puffy foot in the door of the fashion world was
laughable. What would that mean for her and Billy? She couldn't ever seem him
again, there was just no way.
She'd be too embarrassed and ashamed first of all to ever
let Billy see her this way. The young man so used to caressing her slender,
young physique and then having to accept seeing his beloved with belly rolls
and bingo wings at least 40 years too early. Maggie realized also that even if
she did ever manage to buck up the courage and see him, she could never in her
wildest dreams hope to be intimate or maintain any sort of romantic
relationship with him again. How could she expect a young good-looking,
charismatic guy like her boyfriend who had fallen in love with her when she was
enviously beautiful and youthful in appearance to remain in a long-term
relationship with her when she now looked like his grandmother?
If by some miracle she did return to normal even, how would
that effect their dynamic? The transformation may end up lasting weeks, months,
perhaps even years. Maggie was only two days into the change and it had felt
like a lifetime for the poor girl already. She couldn't expect to just pick up
where they had left off, even if she did return to normal, this would change
her forever. As painful as it was to admit to herself, she'd much rather just
disappear from Billy and her friends' lives all-together, and pray that they
would just forget her.
As Maggie continued to think over her situation in silence,
Doris returned from upstairs. She was now fully dressed and made-up for the day
ahead, looking smart for a woman her age, as if she was ready to go somewhere.
She was wearing a simple pair of wide-leg stretch trousers, black in color
along with a long-sleeved chiffon purple blouse and matching purple pumps. Maggie
had heard the soft jangle of her Aunt's jewelry as she had waddled into the
room, but her eyes remained fixed to the TV screen with a spacey glaze as she
continued to contemplate.
Doris stood there for a second looking down at her Grand
Niece, who from her perspective seemed too content to move, sitting blankly,
absorbed by some dull Daytime TV programme. Doris was able to understand that
Maggie probably needed this, to laze around for a while, as many people tend to
do after some sort of tragedy or dramatic event in one's life. Such action is a
form of coping mechanism. However Doris did find it slightly unnerving to see
such behavior from her Grand Niece in particular. Doris may have been out of
the girl's life for a lot longer than she would have liked, but in the small
updates she had received over the years she had gathered the distinct
impression of Maggie as a go-getting, defiantly hard-working young woman. This
sleepy sort of demeanor her Grand Niece currently adopted was diametrically
opposed to that understanding, and Doris felt that soon she would have to begin
encouraging the aged girl to start getting active again. Otherwise she would
let this curse beat her, and end up sitting around watching TV in her PJ's
forever.
Doris did recognize that a lot of the 'activities' available
to Maggie in Easy Springs were all geared to women her own age however. She
herself even found it kind of funny that in her old age she had sort of fallen
into many of the clichés and stereotypes that we all associate with elderly
women. She enjoyed playing bingo on a Tuesday night and meeting the ladies for
some sherry, cosmos or melon balls after where they all gabbed away.
Reminiscing about their youth, discussing the recent events of their favorite
programmes, bemoaning the aches and pains of old age and catching up on all the
gossip that the old ladies had gathered since their last meet.
She also enjoyed knitting, sewing and crocheting, although
she tried to reason with herself that she had always enjoyed this long before
she was 'old'. She played bridge and even golf every so often when she felt she
had the energy for it. They may all be 'granny' things to Maggie she thought,
but they were still something, activities that would keep her Grand Niece from
falling any further into her depressive, lazy slump and when the time was
right, she would make this point to her.
'You look nice, going somewhere?' Maggie asked, recognizing
that she herself was going to need to get dressed soon.
'Ah yes dear. Well, on Sundays I usually meet some of my
friends around lunch-time for a few hours, just to catch up....but it's Janet's
70th today you see and we were planning on making something of a day of it.'
'That sounds nice' Maggie replied with little enthusiasm,
her eyes returning to the screen ahead of her. Doris sighed deeply as she
continued.
'Considering your circumstances honey, I thought I'd ask
if...maybe you'd want to come along?'
'Huh?' Maggie turned her head round in her chair, to face
her Aunt Doris.
'I know the last thing you'd want to do right now is hang
around with a bunch of old ladies but I can't just leave you here by yourself
with you still being...unwell...if you don't want to join us I completely
understand, I'll just cancel and reschedule for some other time, it's really no
bother.'
Maggie rose up some in her comfortable chair to speak to
Doris more directly, her belly forming rolls in her silky top as she did so.
She thought about the proposal for a moment, recognizing that her Aunt was
trying to get her up and out the house. Her concern was sweet, and Maggie
herself was beginning to recognize that she could very easily fall into the
trap of becoming some reclusive couch potato, forever wearing pajamas and
nighties as a result of her condition. The hard-working, always active part of
herself understood and feared that, however she was still in a great deal of
shock. She had woken up as a fat old woman only a day ago, and the idea of
going out in the world and interacting with other people in this new form that
she was still getting used to, and was also simultaneously terrified of getting
too used to, was simply too much.
'Aunt Doris don't be ridiculous. You go and have fun, I'll
be fine here' she said, waving her pink nails.
'Maggie sweetheart, I appreciate that, but I don't feel
comfortable leaving you here, there's still so much that we don't know about
your condition. What if something happened to you? What if--'
'I'm old now' Maggie said rather bluntly.
'What?'
'I'm old. That's the long and short of
this...condition...curse...whatever it is. I don't think there's going to be
any more revelations concerning what's happened to me that we can't already
predict.'
'But Maggie--'
'Seriously' Maggie interrupted, her jowly face swishing ever
so slightly 'I'll be fine Aunt Doris. I don't want to put your life on hold
just because...just because mine is.'
Maggie cast her eyes down towards her frumpy body, taking in
the folds, rolls and overall plumpness that coated every inch of her now. She
had this feeling, deep down in her soft gut...whatever this was, whatever had
happened to her, it was going to last for a while at least. She placed her
hands gently on her fat stomach, gently pushing her pink-tipped fingers into
her silk-coated soft flesh and sighed.
If her instinct was right, and she would be stuck this way
for the foreseeable future then she was going to have to start learning how to
take care of herself in this new body. 'I might as well start now' she thought.
'As long as I don't do anything too strenuous for...' she
closed her eyes, sighing with a sense of resignation '...for someone...my
age....then I'll be okay, I promise.'
Doris was a little taken aback at her Grand Niece's sense of
conviction, and seeming understanding that this may go on for sometime. That
phrase, 'someone my age' had been in reference to herself as old, and in Doris'
perspective Maggie categorizing herself in such a way was simultaneously a
depressing and brave gesture.
Depressing of course, in that her 23 year old grand-niece
clearly had or was beginning to nurture a crushingly acute sense of what she
currently was, an old woman. And brave in the sense that this also showed a
maturity and an objective understanding in regards to her own predicament, that
essentially boiled down to “this happened and now I'm dealing with it.” It was
an attitude more in keeping with the direct and determined young Maggie she
understood her Grand Niece to be and it was warming to see it manifest, however
entangled with depression and resignation it was.
'I understand Maggie' Doris said, holding her chins up a
little higher, understanding exactly where Maggie was coming from.
'If you really are okay with me being gone all day there's
still plenty of food in the kitchen if you get hungry again. Also remember
you've got some new clothes I've left for you in the wardrobe in your room, so
you're not stuck in PJ's all day.'
Maggie took a look down at her lumpy self sitting in the
chair, the silky bulges and belly-folds making her wince slightly. She knew
that couldn't just lay around in her Panamas all day, however there was an
aspect of her that only desired this, this lazing around, and she was trying to
fight it. Maggie nodded towards her Aunt Doris as she forced herself up and out
of the chair, her hands to her knees, grunting just a bit as she did.
It should be noted that the constant grunting and struggle
to get up for Maggie is truly only down to her lack of mileage in this current
body of hers. Any other person at her mature weight could move around fairly
comfortably without grunting and puffing with every-step, she really wasn't
that fat all things considered. However for Maggie, the jump in weight was so
drastic and sudden that it was just going to take some getting used to before
she could begin moving around without finding the whole process to be a small
ordeal. One thing she perhaps was never going to get used to however, were
these random and unscheduled bouts of flatulence. Maggie's plump face went red
as she felt the air rush her flabby, matronly buns, hearing the toot. She stood
there mortified as Doris tried not to smile too widely.
'Excuse me' Maggie whispered sheepishly.
'Oh hush now dear' Doris replied, waving her sharp red nails
about 'It happens all the time. It's nothing to be embarrassed about.'
'Guess it's a part of the...condition.' Maggie said, a
slight smile forming as she was able to find the humor in the situation.
'Well I'm afraid I don't have any ointment for that' Doris
joked, 'And trust me I've checked.'
Maggie tried to contain it, but she actually managed to
conjure a laugh. A real one, properly for the first time since her
transformation. The sensation was odd for the aged girl, as it was at once both
fun and also strange, feeling the floppy chugging of her gut and jiggling
bosom, the sound of it eerily that of an old lady's. It wasn't quite a cackle
she noted, her laugh much sweeter sounding, but it was something bordering it.
They had shared this little moment together, Maggie and Doris, a cathartic and
fleeting relief from the insanity and misery of Maggie's situation.
'I'm going to get dressed'
Maggie said, as their laugh settled into a comfortable smile 'Time to check out
this new wardrobe of mine I think.'
Maggie stood opposite the opened doors of her guest-room's
wide wardrobe, one hand against her thickened, soft hip, the other
absent-mindedly scratching an itch in the blubbery fold of her belly beneath
the silky pajama top. With her highly critical, fashion-savvy eye squinting in
displeasure, the wrinkles around her eyes intensifying slightly as she did, the
aged girl was taking in the sheer amount of frumpery emanating from the inside
of the wardrobe ahead of her. There were a lot of bright, feminine colors that
blared out at her right off the bat. Strong pinks, reds, purples and blues that
offended her ever so slightly, her own color palette often understated and
neutral in tones that were very much on trend for a young, fashion conscious
girl in her early 20's. She did however concede that the clothing in front of
her, while still entirely awful by her normal standards, was more than
acceptable wear for a woman who looked to be in her mid-late sixties.
It was simple, pseudo-classy clothing that well-to-do women
in the later stages of middle-age tended to wear, her Aunt Doris apparently
making a conscious effort to tone down Maggie's wardrobe from the loud and
gaudy nature of her own. There were a lot of simple blouses, many of which were
plain while others held some pattern, usually floral and there also a couple in
animal print. A vast majority were also long-sleeved, these blouses being
somewhat looser and baggier around the upper-arm region in a clear, by design,
bid to shield flabby bingo wings from view. A feature that Maggie recognized,
like it or not, she was going to have to make use of now. There was also a
considerable array of knitwear, namely thick frumpy jumpers and cardigans, a
sprinkling of fairly dull looking wraps and shawls also and Maggie could even
spy a kimono or two lurking in the back.
Aunt Doris had really went on a spending spree it had
seemed, the old woman having made a small fortune for herself early in life
from her time as a History teacher at the prestigious and well paying White
Peaks Private Academy many years ago. Her late husband Arthur had also left her
a great deal of money, being one of the most revered orthopedic doctors in the
country at one point. Their collective success is what allowed Doris to stay at
Easy Springs, it being a high-end, private area that largely catered to wealthy
clientèle who had entered retirement. Maggie could tell however that while all
of these items certainly looked new, with the sheer quantity of clothing on
display here, she could only expect that a number of items were borrowed from
Doris' own wardrobe...perhaps from a few belly-sizes ago.
There were only two dresses that Maggie could find, and
neither were particularly enticing for the aged 23 year old. One of which being
a dowdy number that had some serious 'old woman at church' vibes, pale blue in
color and adorned with tiny pink roses throughout that, outside of the dumpy
knitwear, was perhaps the most matronly looking item she had come across yet.
The other in great contrast, was a far fancier and even elegant black number
that had slight frills at the cuffs, clearly made for more upmarket and
important events, however the item all together appeared entirely too sleek and
revealing, even in black, for the newly self-conscious Maggie to ever feel
comfortable trying to stuff her flab into.
There were a few very basic skirts which held no pattern,
the idea of wearing a skirt being a little off-putting for Maggie as she
anticipated a definite bulge of stomach that would be made terribly apparent
upon wearing one. Although she also considered that such an image would perhaps
be impossible to avoid from now on, looking discernibly plump and rounded in
practically everything that wasn't at least three sizes too big for her. There
were far more trousers however, generally all wide-leg and plus-size and
inoffensively plain. They were an absolute staple of the older fat woman's
wardrobe, and Maggie sighed, her wrinkled fingers pinching the bridge of her
nose as she yet again recognized how she herself could only be defined. From
her troublesome hip, to her quaking thighs and her rapidly graying dull hair,
Maggie was for the moment at least, just another fat old woman...and that meant
that roomy, wide-leg trousers that she had often thought were worn exclusively
by fat grandmas and office-workers was now going to become a key item of
clothing for her now also.
From all of this Maggie selected a pair of navy slacks with
a sensible elastic waist, a scallop detail lace top in a soft pink with ¾ arm
lengths and a sort of built in cardigan look. She placed these two items on the
bed, still clad in her now well-worn silky blue pajamas, the aged girl looking
down and sighing with some frustration at the frumpy looking items she had
selected for herself. It only struck her there, as she was about to pull the
silk pajamas bottoms down across her chunky legs that she had missed a vital
component in getting ready...underwear.
She had perhaps put this out of her mind on some
subconscious level she thought, dreading the inevitable 'old ladyness' of what
she would find in the dresser drawers beside her bed. She inched over with some
anxiety, pulling the handle of the drawer slowly as her face sagged in
expectant disappointment as the drawer creaked open. There, perfectly organised
were a thick stack of granny panties. She pulled them out, the just one of many
pairs upon pairs of granny garments. They were all primarily white, grey and even
brown and were built with nothing but comfort and function in mind. This held
the same for the simply gigantic bras she found in the drawer above, as if at a
certain age and weight, a person just abandons wearing anything sexy for their
partner or their themselves for the rest of their life. The bra and panties
were both so big that it made Maggie turn her nose up with a soft repulsion,
the wide cotton white being a far cry from the lacy, girlish pink panties she
had worn only two days prior.
The actual process of putting these items on was a real
mental effort for the poor girl, who after unbuttoning her silky pajama top had
been forced to turn her head away as her significantly larger, squishy breasts
somewhat flopped out and against her. The slight slapping noise of soft skin to
soft skin sinking her heart lower than she thought it could go. The bra had
been something of struggle to get on of course, Maggie being completely foreign
to the sensation created by the under-wiring that helped keep all of that juicy
wobbling in place. After stuffing her fat bosom into the cups of the bra she
sort of hefted them up around her as her fingers felt across the ripples of
flab in her back, struggling just an inch to reach for the clasps across her
much wider back. Once the bra was finally secure she was met with two
sensations, after focusing on this part of her matured body for so long she
began to realize just how heavy her breasts had gotten, and made a mental note
that this was probably an important factor contributing to the constant
struggle in her movements. Secondly and somewhat surprisingly, Maggie
discovered that the large bra provided some instant relief for that same
heaviness. Her hip had of course been a problem for her since yesterday, and
had caused a kind of dull tightness in and around her back area, and the bra
was already helping soothe it somewhat by taking a part of that weight on
itself.
'If only I had a bra for this gut' Maggie thought scornfully
as she grabbed the granny panties from the bed. She really didn't want to labor
on getting dressed anymore than she had to, knowing full well that all of the
jiggling and blubber that she despised so much about her new body was simply
going to be unavoidable. To try and move past this uncomfortable experience as
quickly as possible, Maggie sat her naked flabby behind on the edge of her bed
as she lifted her thick legs and proceeded to pull the old-fashioned garment
fairly quickly across and up them. Her dimpled thighs quivered, her soft belly
folded, her fleshy arms shook...even her double-chin strengthened and wobbled
as she pulled the granny panties up her wide legs. Maggie persevered despite
all of this, having grown just slightly used to the sensation and managing to
put it out of her mind as she soon hoisted the panties around her thick
child-bearing hips, the lip of the granny panties cutting into the blubber of
her stomach and forming a definitive muffin-top. Maggie sighed as she soldiered
on, pulling the panties up and around her belly as she stuffed the fat in some,
the panties now settling over her wobbling gut snugly.
With the worst of it over Maggie got dressed fairly quickly.
It had felt oddly calming to finally be in clothes that fit her mature form,
even knowingly patting her belly over her navy slacks with some approval,
privately astonished at how much she was appreciating the elastic waist and
roomier movement despite their overall frumpiness. The top was nice enough but
didn't do a great deal to hide any of the weight, her all-encompassing granny
panties underneath doing a far better job of tucking in all that flab...but it
would do.
All she needed now were shoes, and after the disturbing
dream in which her favorite black boots were transformed into grandmotherly
pumps just the night before she was almost a little scared of even looking in
the boxes provided by her Aunt Doris that were laying on the floor of the
wardrobe. So as to kill the anxious anticipation of what she would find in
these shoe-boxes, Maggie simply tore open the lids of all of them in a rush,
surveying what she could see inside all at once. Just as she feared and
suspected, they were all astoundingly grandmotherly in nature. The navy pumps
from her nightmares were there, their clean shine reflecting a distorted image
of the aged Maggie half-mocking her, and their soft, comfortable, almost
certainly orthopedic soles inviting her, the aged girl having noticed a slight
ache in her feet since the change. There was also a pink pair of comfort
moccasins, a pair of white open-toed sandals with a 1-inch heel, a particularly
dumpy pair of bronze open-toed sandals with no heel, two pairs of chunky court
shoes one black in color and the other peep-toed and white, and finally a very
average pair of fuzzy pink-slippers.
Maggie could almost cry looking down at the pitiful display
of clothing she had amassed over the last two days, the words screaming through
her mind: built for comfort, sensible, mature and unsexy. She stared down the
nightmare navy pumps hard as they lay still in the box below her, pristine and
still. She hated them, she wanted to burn them, and after ripping them out of
the box...she was about to be wearing them. Maggie had chosen the pumps largely
out of spite, defying the fear and anxiety they conjured in her, refusing to
let it win, 'it' being her current sorry state of affairs of course. She held
them in her hands as her large rump sat on the edge of the bed, ready to place
them on her fattened feet. She winced slightly as she slid her pink-nailed toes
into the shoe, as if it were meeting nails at the bottom, she sunk her soft
heel into the back of the shoe, grinding ever so slightly until they fit
snugly. She almost couldn't believe what she was feeling as she looked down at
her puffy, matronly foot....she couldn't have expected....it felt amazing. She
had picked these shoes as some sort of challenge to herself, to let herself
know that she wasn't afraid of what was happening to her, that she could take
all of this insanity, all of the changes on her significantly softer chin and
fight through it as she always did with any challenge.
However as she stood there now, fully dressed with both
pumps comfortably supporting her aged feet, her ever so slightly blurred
reflection staring back at her in the full-length mirror of the room she saw
something different, something she hadn't anticipated.
The plain white granny panties were gently cupping her soft
gut, the wide-legged and roomy slacks allowing her chunky thighs to breathe,
and making her feel so much lighter than she had since the change. Finally her
feared navy pumps, that for all their dowdiness and matronly appearance just
oozed softness, relief and comfort. She stood there, expecting to see herself
reservedly defiant in a foreign body, the clothes, the fat, the wrinkles all
symptoms of a condition that she planned to fight and resist for as long as it
took. But instead, she saw in that reflection a different woman altogether, she
saw a warm, kindly looking plump grandmother, and for just a split second, as
she stared into her own wrinkled, older eyes, she found to her slight horror
that this image of herself made Maggie feel....at peace.
The feeling passed quickly as
she violently shook it out of her system, quickly leaving this image behind in
the mirror and waddling off down the stairs to return to her Aunt Doris. Her
head was buzzing with worry as Maggie desperately tried to push the fleeting
comfort right back into the furthest recesses of her mind, chalking the feeling
of peace as simply being in response to the relief of wearing clothes that
actually fit her. Bit when that excuse didn't satisfy her refusal, she simply
ignored the moment all together, acting as if that feeling had never been
there...but it had been, and as she walked into the living room to find her
Aunt Doris reclined back in her favorite chair casually knitting away with an
easy smile on her face and in a state of domestic content, she truly feared its
return.
A few hours had passed since Doris had left to spend the day
with her friends and Maggie found herself wriggling uncomfortably on one of the
kitchen chairs, her wide, matronly behind feeling unsupported by its fairly
flimsy plastic. Fearing the oddly serene sensation that had passed through her
earlier after she had gotten dressed, and trying to avoid lounging around
lazily in what could now only be referred to as 'her' chair all day, Maggie had
forced herself to stay out of the living room. Her lips were contorting in
displeasure, deepening the wrinkles around her mouth in response to the slight
aches and strains that crept throughout the joints in the lower half of her
body. The TV in the living room was still on, murmuring something just out of
clarity through the walls, as she found herself turning her head towards the
door. Her poor fat backside almost begging to be placed into the warm,
supportive comfort of her living room chair, the one she was currently sitting
on simply not built to keep a woman of her new girth and age comfortable for
long periods of time.
She tried to concentrate on the meaty book in front of her,
using a pink-nailed finger to push her Aunt Doris' chained glasses back into a
snug fit across her face. She'd had the conversation with Doris before she
left, Maggie haven quietly approached her Great Aunt about her fairly blurry
eyesight. It had been yet another embarrassing admission that she was seemingly
an old lady across the board, but after farting in front of Doris earlier that
morning and both she and her Aunt recognizing that 'it was just what happened
when you reached a certain age', her need for glasses felt like far less of a
big deal. Doris had supplied her with the glasses straight from her face,
opting instead for ones a tad more stylish, less 'granny' like for her day out
with her friends. Maggie on the other hand, as she sat there dabbing a finger
to her tongue on occasion to help her turn the pages, was looking like a
perfect image of grannydom. Maggie had even treated herself to a hot cup of
tea, which sat faithfully beside her on the table as she concentrated on the
book below. She had lied yesterday to her Aunt Doris about her liking tea for a
few reasons, namely she wasn't in the mood for any food or beverages at that
time, still reeling physically and mentally from her sudden transformation and
the idea of her fattened body ingesting anything was sickening, and perhaps
more prominently tea is so closely associated with elderly women in a cliché,
funny sort of way that the idea of herself drinking it in her current form also
made her feel ill at the time. Now having settled however the tea was a
welcome, calming companion as she tried to read the book in front of her.
She had picked the text up somewhat randomly as a means of
staving off the boredom, Maggie kicking herself only somewhat for leaving her cell
with her mother, and knowing that ready access to the internet and social media
was a good 3 hour drive away, Maggie was left with very few other options. She
had actually laughed out loud to herself when her eyes had spotted the pair of
knitting needles resting on the table by her Great Aunt's chair, telling
herself that the day she picked up the habit of knitting was the day she
finally gave up. Instead her newly bespectacled eyes, looking slightly larger
behind the lenses, squinted as she had surveyed her Great Aunt's book
collection. As it turns out there wasn't a great deal of quality books on offer
for the aged girl to distract herself with, the majority of those on the
book-shelf being either astoundingly boring sounding petty crime novels or different
series' of trashy romance books. She had eventually settled on something that,
while still dull from cover to cover, was large and substantial enough that it
would take quite a long time to read. Providing Maggie with at least something
to take her mind off of her flabby old body and dire set of circumstances. It
was called 'Rose in the Field' and was a story about a middle-aged mother whose
three children return to the farm for her late husband's funeral, only for her
to reveal to them that he wasn't in fact their real father. It was a very long
soap opera inspired book that had a lot of characters, twists and turns and
generally seemed to go on forever, and it was exactly the kind of easy crap
Maggie could use to keep her mind occupied.
She had gotten a good chunk of reading done when she felt
the twinge of pain in her hip return with a real sharpness. She winced and
moaned audibly as her hand dropped the book and fast-tracked to her thickened
side. She stroked it gently, feeling her meaty love-handles pressing against
the fabric of her top as she slowly stood herself up from the hard, unfitting
chair. She sighed in light relief as the pain subsided just a bit, her eyes
behind the clunky glasses heavy with a sense of defeat as she realized that for
the sake of her achy hip, she would have to take her flabby old rump to the
cradling support of her living room chair.
She picked up the cup of tea and
the book and waddled through the kitchen, the tinny sounds of the TV becoming
fuller as she entered the living room. After placing them both down on the
small cabinet beside her chair, one hand supporting her back as she bent down,
she stood up straight for just a moment and stared down at the seat below her.
From her lazing around all of that morning the soft chair had maintained the
imprint of her substantial backside, the sides sunken in from her rounded
weight. She didn't want to give in, part of her wanted to return to the kitchen
and simply stick the pain out, refusing to let the aches and pains of her
older, fat body make any decisions for her, but her hip was flaring up at the
mere thought. With a look of resignation on her mature face, Maggie sat herself
down into the chair, her ass looking gigantic as she bent down, and found her
whole body filling with a warm relief as the soft, comfortable chair cushioned
and welcomed her tired, frumpy body. Maggie even pulled the lever at the
chair's side and reclined it, much in the same way her Aunt Doris sat in her
respective chair, and she couldn't help but admit to herself that as she lay
there with a cheesy book in her liver-spot sprinkled hands, her pump encased
feet half of the ground with a hot of cup of tea by her side she felt
overwhelmingly relaxed and.....at peace. There it was again, that feeling. It
was less frightening this time and while it did cause her to feel alarmed, that
sinking feeling in her chest dissipated far quicker. She simply didn't bother
to resist or think about it, opting instead to just let it pass over her and
make its way as she continued to read, actually unaware that a slight smile had
spread across her jowly but pretty face.
It was only coming up for 9:00 when Doris returned from her
outing, the old woman being a little bit tipsy from a melon ball or two too
many and locking the door behind her as she giggled away to herself. It had
been good to get out of the house she thought, even if she had been worrying
about Maggie the entire time. She knew that with it still being so early into
all that had transpired, her Grand Niece's reluctance to accompany her was more
than understandable, but she realized that if this didn't resolve itself soon,
and she really feared that might be the case, she would need to start
encouraging Maggie to come along to such things. 'Who knows?' the slightly
drunk Doris thought to herself, 'She might even have some fun.'
Doris continued to ponder over her Grand Niece's predicament
as she entered the living room, and her heart melted slightly at the image in
front of her. That of Maggie sleeping soundly in her reclined chair, a book
resting comfortably on her soft belly, rising gently with Maggie's deep
breathing, snoring loudly as her eyes twitched ever so slightly beneath her
chained spectacles. There was something sweet about the whole thing. Doris
walked across towards her Grand Niece, grabbing one of her crocheted blankets
from her side of the room as she did, and gently lay the item across Maggie's
body, tucking it around her matronly bosom, so as not to disturb the aged 23
year old from her deep sleep. Doris stood back and watched Maggie for a moment
with a kind of sad smile. She hated that her Grand Niece had been dealt such an
awful and mysterious hand, and prayed hard that she would soon return to her
normal self again, but if this transformation meant that Maggie could find a
few moments of peace and comfort as she clearly had in that chair, sleeping
heavily, then perhaps it wouldn't be all bad.
Doris turned off the TV and began waddling out the door and
towards the stairs, her red nails poised against the living room light. Her
dark head turned once more towards Maggie.
'Goodnight Margaret' she said as she continued down the hall
towards the stairs.
It wasn't until Doris had began
getting ready for bed, changing into her large nightie that she realized what
she had said, and her old eyes had widened in this moment. 'Margaret is dead'
she told herself, her expression adopting a serious demeanor before looking
across at the photo of herself and her since passed sister that stood on her
bedside table. 'That is her granddaughter down there' she whispered away, a
sense of conviction holding her voice together. She had gotten into bed cursing
herself for slipping up like that and allowing herself to forget the harsh
reality of the situation, even if it was just for a second. She had to keep
strong for Maggie, and for Julie, she couldn't allow herself to fall into happy
delusions...no matter how much Maggie looked like and reminded her of Margaret.
The strange fragmentary dreams had persisted throughout the
week. On that second night as Maggie lay snoring comfortably in her reclined
chair with a crochet blanket tucked about her plump body to keep her warm, she
envisioned herself as young once more. She had watched herself, clad in a
slinky and youthful black dress that hugged her slim and well toned body
uneasily making her way through a crowd of people. A dress that felt wrong to
her sleeping eye, knowing somewhere in the back of her consciousness that it's
a dress that she wouldn't be able to wear somehow, her poor sleepy psyche
clawing at the reality that such an item of clothing would never fit her
mature, belly rolled and homely new body. The very idea being enough to disturb
the reality of this dream. As the dream continued she heard her favorite black
boots clacking, as they often did, against a wooden floor as she squeezed her
young body through and past numerous people with drinks in their hands and
smiles on their faces. This was Hayley's party that she had so fatally missed,
her decision to work instead leading her right to the old witch who sent her
life spiraling out of control. Who turned her into the fat old lady that lay
snorting in her sleep in her warm, reclined chair, her matronly pump encased
feet dangling off at the bottom.
Maggie's dream-self kept struggling against the busy mob of
people that crowded the halls and rooms of this apartment party, and as she fought
her way through the cluttered bodies that seemed bigger and more intimidating
than they should normally be, she knew that she had to find her love, she had
to find Billy. The people around her were all so much louder and more
boisterous than she was comfortable with, their line-less smiles, their
youthful energy and volume making her feel uneasy and a little overwhelmed.
That was until she eventually found Billy, who stood in a corner in the dream
apartment's only quiet, empty space completely by himself and looking a little
lost. The dream had been blurry and disorientating, as they all seemed to be,
and in no time at all, the dream Maggie found herself being held by the
concerned Billy. She was crying into his chest as he gently cradled her, asking
what was wrong. She was so distraught, the tears seemingly endless and only
getting worse as she struggled to form words, and poor Billy was panicking as
the situation escalated. She was trying to tell him something through her sobs
and cries, trying to communicate something important, something difficult, and
Billy was really struggling to hear her or make out anything that made any
sense. He just kept stroking her long, blonde hair lovingly and reassuringly as
he tried to hear her, but failed. She had also remembered some striking and
frightening moments from her disjointed dreams. Of her young-self laying in her
reclined chair, struggling to get up, her arms feeling glued to the arm-rests
and her body getting heavier and fatter with each tug and pull. The skin around
her face sagging gradually until it formed jowls as her hair grayed and her
stomach bulged with flab and strained her clothing, until eventually a warm
comfort overtook her transformed body and she finally quit struggling. She also
remembered being back home, standing in her living room as her mother Julie
yelled and screamed as she frantically looked for Maggie. The aged girl stood
just ahead of her, completely within Julie's line of sight and waving her
flabby arms about, her bingo wings jiggling frantically with her ferocious arm
gestures as she tried in vain to grab her mother's attention, but try as she
might Julie simply could not see her.
As the week had gone on Maggie had grown to anticipate these
strange dreams, getting somewhat used to their disorientating and jagged
nature, and waking up with less of a jolt each morning. The process of waking
was always the same for the most part. Either a sudden and panicked surge
forward, her wrinkled hand pressed against her soft and sagging bosom as she
felt her heart pound with adrenaline and anxiety when it had been a
particularly horrifying dream, or a bleary-eyed and groggy waking that had on
two occasions involved some involuntary morning flatulence which she largely
ignored and the smacking of her dry, wrinkly lips as she scratched away at her
blubbery body, her pink nails clawing in search of the chained spectacles that
lay on her bedside drawer. She would place these now essential glasses on,
taking the moment to think over her dream in quiet reflection before grunting
somewhat as she swung her quivering thighs around and slipped her bare feet
into comfortable, fuzzy pink slippers that greatly mirrored her Aunt Doris' own
purple ones before she shuffled and waddled out of the room for breakfast.
She didn't spend a great deal of time dwelling on these
dreams, she didn't really need to. These dreams were such an obvious
expression, however jumbled and disconnected, of the fears and anxieties that
pervaded her mind ever since her transformation that they required very little
analysis. Her fears were simple, understandable and expected. She feared being
stuck as she was permanently. She feared that she would be forced to lose
herself to the new life that was seemingly forming around her. She feared she
would give up her own identity and her own hopes and dreams, not because she
enjoyed this metamorphosis in anyway, but because it was simply easier for her
to act and behave as if she had always been some fat old grandma, and had been
a hard-working, tough and determined young 23 year old 'once a long time ago',
because that was a much less depressing reality to contend with, than knowing
she had lost her young life forever to some unfixable, magical insanity. Maggie
was far from ready to give up on herself though, and while she had found
herself enjoying little moments of respite and ease here and there, she still
held onto her own mind with a tight grasp as she did. She would not forget who
she was. On the other hand however, these fears were so pervasive that Maggie
would often allow herself some easy distraction. Much in the same way as she
would fantasize and daydream of her success in the fashion-industry when she
had slaved away at Shelley's bar, Maggie permitted herself a few light vices.
Whether it was concentrating on her lengthy and character
heavy-book 'Rose in the Field' which, Maggie now at page 198 had found was only
really just getting started, or even trying to absorb herself into the drama
and goings on of the cheesy day-time soap operas her Aunt Doris watched and
enjoyed so much. She had never said it out loud, and could barely believe it
herself, but Maggie did find that she was actually beginning to kind of enjoy
these programmes. The blank glaze which she had often manifested when watching
such crap, usually from deep concern and contemplation regarding her
predicament, had now gradually morphed into a genuine investment. She had
favorite characters, and legitimately wanted to know what happened next when
the episode would finish. She and her Aunt recapping and discussing the episode
in a manner that went from sort of an aloof and distant observation on her part
into a giddy and somewhat excitable manner when she and her Aunt had thought of
some theory, or of some daring direction the show might take come next episode.
She and her Aunt Doris would often spend their time reclined warmly and
comfortably in their respective chairs, with a cup of tea forever at their side
or in their wrinkled hands, mirroring each other as they sat and conversed.
Maggie and Doris often scratching at their meaty bellies and thighs with little
knowledge, and occasionally farting involuntarily. The latter had become
something of a source of entertainment for the two old ladies, who after
laughing off Maggie's initial embarrassing display of elderly gas, found
themselves continually doing so each time. Each little burst of flatulence from
one of the matronly women usually followed by some half-cackled giggling, and
by the week's end, the action was as normal and commonplace for Maggie as it
was for Doris and any other old woman, that the humor eventually dissipated and
Maggie had learned to largely ignore it.
Maggie was also growing more accustomed to her new heavier,
mature body. She was grunting and struggling less when she got out of or into
her bed or her chair, which she had to admit wasn't very often. She would
potter around the house to keep herself occupied sometimes, especially when her
Aunt Doris would venture outside for groceries or to spend time with a friend,
and she had sort of trained herself to walk more comfortably. A key component
in this was that she had actively slowed down, realizing that despite her
additional weight she was still moving with the defiant stride of her youthful
23 year old self, and it was this clash of youthful action and elderly body
that was causing her mobility issues. She was an fat old woman now, and she had
to keep that in mind when she moved from now on. While this was advantageous
for the aged 23 year old in carrying around all of that new weight, and putting
up with the strain that came with her achier, more fragile joints, the idea
that she could get ever allow herself to actually get comfortable in this body
was filling her with a strong sense of dread. These fleeting moments of peace
and content were just that, fleeting, but their mere presence was forcing the
aged Maggie to really sit and consider what it all could mean for her.
Maggie had spent most of this contemplation laying in bed
preparing for sleep, clad in her silky PJ's or a frumpy and outdated looking
nightie that comforted her soft, old body as she tossed and turned in
frustration. Or when she lowered her large, fleshy backside down into the warm,
bubbly water of a refreshing bath. She would close her tired eyes as she lay in
the comforting water, her droopy breasts swaying gently, her crest of her fat
stomach often just poking through the edge of the water. She had tried to take
a shower on the Thursday night of that week, but discovered much to her dismay
that standing around for so long was making her old legs tired and even a
little creaky. She reluctantly accepted the seat built into the walk in shower
when it got to be too much, her soft belly forming rolls as she did, irritated
that she needed such accommodation built for elderly issues. Her thoughts were
a little cyclical and scattered, but these intense bouts of concentration and
reflection often started at the same place. The witch. She would picture her
wrinkled, aged face, glitzy and glamorous smiling at her warmly. She couldn't
believe it now as her hands gripped her sagging gut that she was now so much
larger than that old woman, she even felt she looked older than the witch when
she looked in the mirror, her face a tad puffier, her proto-jowls gaining just
a little weight and materializing that bit more as a result of her far meatier
diet.
That woman from the bar who was responsible for this whole
mess had told her to enjoy herself and to take a break...but as far as Maggie
was concerned she had already done the latter. All she had done in that past
week was sit around, watch TV with her Aunt Doris, read her book, eat and
sleep. If that didn't constitute a break, then what would? The idea of
'enjoying herself' was a whole other matter however. How could she be expected
to enjoy any aspect of this metamorphosis? Aged at least 40 years, fattened up
and made frail. What part of her current predicament was she supposed to enjoy
exactly? These disturbing and depressing reflective moments had been a recurring
fixture her first week. It was this constant anxiety, this unending series of
'what ifs?' that forced her to dream in such disjointed, unclear and always
unnerving ways. A part of her however, also greatly feared the departure of
such worries and of her alarming dreams, for the night she slept soundly in
this fat, matronly body would be the night she succumbed to the idea that she
would never return to normal. That a sagging paunch, an achy hip, a heavy bosom
fit for a family matriarch....that would be the new normal from then on, and
she just wasn't ready to give in. Not yet.
Her nights would always end the
same, having fallen into quite the daily routine. After a day of watching TV,
pottering around doing largely nothing, she would get herself prepared for bed,
and that meant just one thing. Rubbing her now absolutely essential ointment
into her creaky old joints. She had really felt its absence the morning after
sleeping in her chair, moving around that entire day very slowly and stiff, her
pink-nailed hand often positioned against her achy back in support. It was so
surreal, how this process which had instilled in her such anxiety and fear
initially had now become her favorite part of the day. The cool gel into her
soft skin was still sensual and soothing, albeit it never quite topped that
first night, every joint and her jiggling belly, and with that she would be
ready for bed. Which was always somewhere between 8:30-9:30. She knew now that
the ointment was going to become a part of her nightly routine from here on
out, just as it was for her Aunt Doris, and part of her didn't really mind
that. She would accept and put up with all of the little 'granny-isms' for as
long as it took. She would use the ointment, she would walk slower, she would
wear the clothes and she would watch the soaps, so long as she did not forget
who she was. Above everything else that was the most important thing for
Maggie. The aged 23 year old did however concede that at some point this was
going to be challenged, that depending on how long this change went on for, she
would be forced to depart the safety of her Aunt's house at some point and
begin engaging with the outside world as this older version of herself. How she
handled that, she thought, would be the real test of her character, and in the
back of her mind, and somewhere down in her fat gut, she knew that test would
come much sooner than she was ready for.
Maggie sat there, her fat backside resting in it's favorite
spot, her living room chair, this time un-reclined as she with finger to tongue
turned the pages of her substantial book. It was Saturday morning, and her old
bespectacled eyes turned just for a moment to the living room window, admiring
the sunny warm day from the shaded safety of her Aunt's living room. She hadn't
been outside in a week, and she was acutely aware and bothered by this fact.
She was still so nervous about walking outside as she currently was that the
lack of sunlight was less bothersome than it otherwise would have been, but she
could see how pale her soft, matured skin had gotten however. Even raising her
liver-spot sprinkled hand up somewhat, turning it over in a mild disgust of how
white and unhealthy she was beginning to look.
The TV was on in the background of her morning reading at a
very low volume, as Maggie flicked a stray gray hair from the side of her
fattened cheek. She had kept it in a messy bun, a style that was perhaps a
little too youthful looking for the aged 23 year old, but also on a practical
level was keeping her long dull hair out of her face. It had been bothering
her, the hair, and she wanted nothing more than to get it cut, dye it maybe, do
something to keep it from looking so...old. But that would mean leaving the
house, and she didn't know if she was ready for that yet.
This had been on her mind quite a bit over the last couple
of days. She was coming to the end of her first week in this fat old body and
nothing had changed. She recognised in herself that this change would only drag
the longer she hid away in her Aunt's house, knowing that she would need to
force herself up and out if she didn't want to lose herself to this depressive
and lazy slump. It just wasn't in her nature to be so static, and she had even
very briefly considered asking to join her Aunt Doris on her occasional
outings. Whether it just be to the supermarket or whatever it was, she knew she
had to start taking steps towards leading a real life again. Even if that meant
doing so as a plump old granny.
It was especially apparent when she and her mother would
talk on the phone as they did every day. Maggie never had any news for Julie,
it was always the same. She was still old, she was still fat, and outside of
the dramatic twists that permeated the lives of her new favorite soap characters,
she had nothing new to report. Julie was planning on heading up to Easy Springs
sometime next week to visit, Maggie's little sister Ashley had a slumber party
planned out that allowed Julie some free-time to finally get up and see Maggie
and her Aunt Doris in person. Maggie had to admit to herself that she was a
little worried about her mother's upcoming visit. She missed her dearly and
wanted to see her, but as she looked down at herself, her aged feet in fuzzy
pink-slippers, her flabby, matronly body wrapped tight in a frumpy pink
house-coat that seemed to only accentuate how rotund she had become, Maggie
feared her mother's response. Julie was a lot like Maggie, head-strong, defiant
and driven. She had learned these qualities from her mother, after the loss of
her Grandma Margaret and Grandpa Richard, and then with her father leaving so
shortly after Ashley was born, these tragedies so close to one another had
forced both Julie and Maggie to grow a thick skin and to persevere through all
odds. She didn't want to let her mom down, ultimately. She wanted to fight this
insane situation every step of the way, just like Julie would want her to, but
they were at such a loss. Julie had done some investigating into this
mysterious woman and had turned up nothing, just as Maggie had expected. She
had talked to Michael back at Shelley's bar, who provided no more details
beyond what Maggie had already told her, and no internet searches, no local
legends, truly nothing turned up any sort of clue as to who or what this woman
was. Maggie was personally convinced that this woman would never reappear
again, not unless she wanted to be found, but she didn't want to step on her
mother's attempts to help her. She knew that she was just trying her best.
Maggie's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the
door-bell. Her old eyes lit up in a panic behind her glasses as the sound
lingered, her plump body sitting firm and still as her concerned expression
accentuated the crow's feet around her eyes, and deepened the furrows of her
brow. She looked about her, forgetting that Doris had only just gone up stairs
to take a 'sit-down' shower, and was as such without any immediate savior to
rescue her from some genuine, outside of the family, human interaction.
Maggie placed her book down on the table beside her chair
very slowly before she lifted her heavy self from the seat, fussing with the
housecoat a little so that she pulled it tighter, getting it as closed as she
could across her large and sagging, jiggling bosom. The sound seemed to linger
as she inched forwards towards the front door, her pink-tipped finger gently
scraping off biscuit crumbs that clung to the love-handles formed in her fluffy
pink housecoat as she coughed with nervousness.
Shuffling cautiously in her old lady slippers, Maggie now
stood before the door with her wrinkled hand poised on the handle, ready to
open it, the other clinging to the trim of her robe, still trying to keep her
rumpled and round body as hidden from view as possible. This was the moment, she
thought to herself. The moment where she would have to face someone new, engage
with the outside world as this plump, grandmotherly version of herself. She
didn't know what awaited her really on the other end of the door, or what she
could say, or if she could say anything...fearing slightly that her
turkey-wattle throat would choke up in fear and she'd slam the door shut on
whoever stood on the other side rudely as she hurriedly shuffled her fat legs
back to the comfort and security of her living room chair, reclining it this
time for maximum relaxation. But her hand was still clutching the door's
handle, she hadn't ran away yet. With her eyes closed and her heart pounding,
Maggie breathed in deeply as she gently and hesitantly opened the door, peering
her heading around it with a great deal of reluctance.
She pushed her chained glasses back into place as they ever
so slightly slipped down her still cute nose as she looked to the man who stood
before her, clad in a light blue uniform, up and down, recognizing that he must
have been the mail-man.
'Good morning ma’am' he had said with a beaming smile, his
hands clutched around a box 'I have a package for Doris, is she in?'
Maggie looked about her, hoping that Doris would appear from
upstairs or from anywhere to save her from this awkwardness.
'Um...' her voice was quiet, she was still so unused to
hearing her words filtered through such a low and fragile timbre, it bothered
her deeply at just how much she not only looked like an old lady but sounded
like one too.
'Uh...she's just...just in the shower...right now' she
managed, and then coughed.
'Oh' he said, annoyingly cheery 'That's quite alright, just
didn't want her to miss out on one of our morning chats' he laughed brazenly
which Maggie found repulsively over-familiar.
'Are you...a friend of hers?' he asked curiously.
Maggie gulped hard, a faint buzz of anxiety beginning to
fill her head. She had thought about this very moment a little, the question of
who she was when she wasn't Maggie, when she simply couldn't be herself. She
knew that when she did begin to interface with the world at large, even in the
small, purely practical ways she had planned too, she couldn't be 'Maggie'. Her
persona would have to be different, her actions, her everything. She had never
settled on a cover story, or a name or anything, having often put this
potential moment on the back burner in the hopes that it would still be
sometime before she had to deal with it, or better yet, she would be turned
back into her normal young self before she ever had to start interacting with
people in this mature old body she now inhabited. Yet here she now was, forced
to act by the overly friendly mail-man of all people.
'I'm...' Maggie's eyes wandered the hallway stalling this
moment, they eventually settled on a large and old family photo from many years
ago. It was of Doris and her grandmother Margaret. Margaret was holding an
infant Julie in her arms, and the far younger looking sisters were smiling
warmly, completely at peace. Margaret had been a stunning woman in her youth,
and growing up Maggie had heard from her own mother Julie of just how much the
two looked alike. There were a few differences, some notable ones even, namely
her Grandmother Margaret had a sharp and sort of even aquiline nose that Maggie
simply did not have. Her own nose was far rounder, cuter...a button nose that
still maintained that soft and gentle aspect to it even in her now, old age.
Her pretty facial features having largely survived the metamorphosis. Margaret
had also been a bit taller than Maggie, and her own hair had been dyed blonde
for a long time where as Maggie's had been an all natural, strong blonde her
entire life. Right up until the change of course, her hair now a sort of strawy
mix of dull blonde and gray. She was now a fading blonde. She knew, as her old
eyes stared into that of her since passed Grandmother's in the photo, that what
she was about to say simply made the most sense. It didn't make her feel good,
or at ease, and understood the implications to be strange and even a little
unnerving if she would be forced to keep it up, but she knew it simply made the
most sense.
'I'm Margaret' she finally said, 'Doris' sister...Margaret
Barnes.'
'Oh well good morning to you Mrs. Barnes' He said, tipping
his cap in a cheesy, cringe-inducing way 'I never knew Doris had a sister. We
chat away whenever I'm on the job, I figured she would have mentioned having
such a good-looking younger sister.'
He winked at her, the gesture large and clearly meant in
jest. Maggie could quickly detect that he was doing that patronizing, supposed
to be cutesy thing that people tend to do with the elderly. Flatter them and
treat them nice to the point of being ridiculous, as if they were an infant.
Maggie knew that her Aunt Doris probably responded quite positively to such
treatment, but only managed to stifle a rigid cough in response, and her saggy,
mature face looking simple unamused.
'I live far away' she said rather coldly 'I don't get to see
Doris very often as a result so she would have no cause to mention me I
imagine.'
The mail-man blushed a little at his failed attempt at
flattery and recognizing that he was dealing with a different kind of old lady
from the average boisterous, colorful Easy Springs type grannies that often
chatted away and told him all about their grand-kids and their achievements and
what their kids were up to now that he usually spoke to, he passed the box over
to Maggie and pulled out a little clipboard and pen.
'If you could just sign here and also here ma'am.'
“Ma'am” she thought away to herself as her pink-nailed
fingers gripped the pin, squinting her eyes behind her glasses as she began to
scribble the name 'Margaret Barnes' in the style of her own signature. This man
was at least in his mid-30's, a good ten years older than her and he was
referring to her as 'Ma'am'...it made her feel so ancient.
'Will that do...young man?' she said as she handed him back
the pen, putting emphasis on those last two words with a light scathe that made
the poor and hapless mail-man wince slightly, recognizing that he had probably
come across a bit too strong and upset the old woman.
'That's perfect ma'am thank you. Tell Doris I said hello,
you have a good rest of your day' he finished, far less enthusiastic than when
he started, and headed off down the neat and tidy little garden path in the hot
summer heat as Maggie shut the door behind him.
The moment the door was shut Maggie leaned her flabby
backside against the door, her hand to her matronly bosom and breathing out in
a real relieving flush. She was so glad to be over that encounter, proud of
herself for surviving it, but wanting nothing more to do now than to return to
her ever comfortable hiding spot. As she shuffled her old, slippered feet back
across the carpet and towards her chair she began to realize what she had actually
done back there. She had called herself Margaret Barnes, her grandmother's name
to that mail-man, and she recognized in that moment that this was just going to
stick. That pretending to be her own grandmother, or at the very least just
taking her grandmother's name and role as Doris' sister would be the cover
story she would go with from now on. It just made sense, it really did, but it
also made her old skin crawl thinking that not only did she look like her
grandmother but was now wearing her name. She shuddered deeply, trying to push
the thought to the back of her mind before allowing herself a moment to
recognize that both Doris and her mother Julie would probably have an opinion
or two about this.
Maggie looked down at the half-drunk cup of tea that sat
beside her book, and she knew it had gone cold. She actually tutted to herself,
a new habit that she had picked up unconsciously from her Aunt Doris and placed
her delicate wrinkled fingers around it as she waddled through the room and
into the expansive, shiny kitchen. 'Ruined a perfectly good cup of tea with his
nonsense' she mumbled away to herself a tad grumpily, already preparing a new
kettle to boil.
As she stood there, her fat buttocks resting gently against
the kitchen top that sank comfortingly into her meaty flesh, waiting for the
kettle to boil the thought of her mother and great Aunt's reaction to this
choice of cover story began to play on her psyche.
'They would have to call me
that...' she thought ...'out in public.' They'd call her Margaret, not Maggie.
Doris pretending to be her sister and Julie...pretending to be....her daughter.
The very idea made her feel ill, and she let out an audible gasp of exhaustion
in mental preparation for the conversations regarding this matter that awaited
her. But it just made the most sense, and after her cup of tea and after she
had gotten dressed for the day, she would talk to Doris and she would talk to
Julie, and she would let them know that she would be Maggie to them two and
them two alone, in private. To the outside world...she would be Margaret.
Doris nodded quietly as Maggie talked, her bulbous and
sagging body wrapped up in an expansive and soft purple bathrobe, her short
hair still damp and waiting to be blow dried. She was sitting on the edge of
her bed, the mattress dipping severely beneath the weight of her fat behind as
Maggie stood in the doorway, fully dressed in a simple, if not a little
matronly, outfit consisting of a black blouse with a light, white floral
pattern, a pair of stretch white capri-pants that did very little in the way of
reducing the fullness of the child-bearing and wide quality of her thickened,
mature hips, a creamy and thick off-white cardigan that looked warm and
comfortable and rounded out with a pair of bland, white, open toed sandals with
a clunky short heel that revealed her still somewhat youthful looking
pink-tipped toes. Maggie's arm was bent back and arched, the palm of her hand
resting against the rippling love handles that formed on her left side as her
right hand hung sort of limp. This was an automatic gesture now for the aged
girl and it was something Doris had noticed Maggie cultivate in her movements
across the week. It was an incredibly feminine and motherly sort of stance that
had morphed from the aged 23 year old's constant achy back holding into
something of a default position. Doris began to reflect on how often she
herself held such a stance as Maggie continued to talk.
'I know it's strange' she croaked from the doorway, her
voice low and a little uneasy 'but I just feel it makes the most sense. Do you
know where I'm coming from?'
Maggie was referring of course to her choice of cover story.
Where she, in the eyes of everyone who wasn't Doris or her mother, would be
Margaret Barnes. Doris' sister, Julie's mother and the grandmother of
Ashley...and 'Maggie'. Doris had continued to nod gently throughout her
grand-niece's hesitant talk, seeing the conviction in Maggie's bespectacled,
wrinkled eyes and understanding the decision completely. It was a thought that
had crossed her own mind multiple times.
Doris had been keen on bringing Maggie out into the outside
world again, but was of course biding her time on approaching this in any
direct way. It had only been a week after all, and in times of tragedy or loss
a person can take a great deal of time to come to terms with their terrible
situation and feel even remotely comfortable interacting with the world again.
Doris had thought to herself that if nothing had changed for Maggie after a
month, if her Grand Niece was still mindlessly watching TV from a reclined
chair having not once left the house and only getting fatter and lazier as she
slumped further into depression and hopelessness, then she would act. She had
been impatient in herself in regards to this, wanting to drag Maggie along to
her little trips to visit friends, or bouts of shopping, or even the Bingo and
post-bingo sherry she went to religiously every Tuesday throughout her
grand-niece's time here but she had remained calm and patient. Maggie however
seemed to be thinking on much the same wave length as herself, and it only made
sense for the independent and driven young girl to come to such a conclusion by
herself and in such little time.
The Margaret cover story did make sense, she was right, but
in the back of her mind somewhere Doris was a little worried about what this
could do to Maggie, Julie and herself. Her greatest fear was that she would
allow herself to slip into fantasy again, thinking of her aged grand-niece as
her actual sister Margaret in small moments of thoughtlessness, and was
terrified about how easy it might be for her to do that. She did understand how
necessary it was however if Maggie was to interact with the outside world in
her current flabby, elderly form. Doris smiled warmly at the old young-woman in
the doorway.
'You're right dear, you're right.'
'I'm glad you understand.'
Maggie's stance shifted as she pulled the cream cardigan
tight across her heavy bosom and extended stomach, securing it in place by
folding her chubby arms beneath her sagging breasts and sighing. Her face was a
little pulled back in contemplation, highlighting to great effect her usually
gentle and understated double chin, and also creating numerous other fleshy,
soft folds in the plump and plush skin around her neck, chin and jowl area.
'I'm just worried about what your mother will say, it might
be difficult for her to keep up with this....this story' Doris said, very
gently taking the towel to the back of her round head and patting the wetter
parts of her dark-dyed hair dry.
'And I'm worried for you too honey' she continued 'I'm not
going to sugar-coat it Maggie this won't be easy. Going by your grandma's name,
pretending to be her.'
'That's not what I'm doing Aunt Doris' Maggie quickly retorted
'I'm not pretending to be her, honest. It's just the name and the role, is all.
I'm not going to go out of my way to act any differently or anything like
that...it's just for the purposes of getting along outside.'
'It's a brave thing you're doing. God only knows how I would
feel in your shoes. I think you've handled it very well Maggie dear, very well
indeed.'
'I appreciate that Aunt Doris' Maggie replied, her smile
strengthening the deep laugh-lines that framed her mouth.
'So..' Doris said '...you have this cover story worked out
fully then?'
'I do. Well, as much as I need to I think. If anybody asks
I'm just going to say that my house is under extensive reconstruction after the
foundations started to give way. You've kindly put me up here while it's
getting repaired and we don't know how long they're going to be so...I'm here
until then. Sound convincing enough?'
'I'd believe it' the old woman chuckled before a more
serious expression grew across her jowly face. 'I'm curious though Maggie, now
that you've got this explanation...what next?'
'What do you mean?'
'I mean...are you maybe wanting to start leaving the house?
I understand it completely if it's still a problem, I truly do sweetheart, it's
only been a week after all. You just seem to have this air of readiness about
you that I haven't seen since you came.'
'It has been on my mind actually' Maggie quietly said, her
pink nailed finger gently pushing her glasses back in place. 'I think staying
in all the time doesn't help. I need to just walk around, get some fresh air at
the very least.'
'Well we can most assuredly do that honey. We can go for a
little walk whenever you like, for as long as you like.'
'I mean let's face it...' Maggie said, her old face cracking
a rare smile 'I'm not exactly going to lose any of this weight just laying
around watching soaps am I?' She placed her hand gently across her soft belly,
prodding it ever so slightly with a stray finger and feeling the doughy flesh
sink beneath it.
'Oh come now dear, that's hardly a concern for you. I know
you'll be back to your normal self eventually, you don't need to worry about
losing any weight.'
'We don't know that though' Maggie replied softly, her face
cast down to her grandmotherly sandal worn feet.
'Sweetheart look at me...' Doris said with a warm strength,
Maggie rising her head up slowly to meet her Great Aunt's fixed, reassuring
gaze.
'I know that this might be hard for you to believe right
now, but you're still a beautiful girl. It shines through all of these changes,
I promise you. And I do believe and I do hope that you'll get back to your
normal self soon enough, and when you do, know that if you grow up to look as
you do now, when you age naturally, that you'll have aged gorgeously. You could
do a lot worse dearie.'
Doris' words were warm, sweet and nurturing and did make
Maggie feel somewhat better about her appearance. She knew on some level that
she despite at all, she was still pretty...but she was pretty for an old lady.
'I just feel so FAT.' Maggie sighed, shifting her heavy
weight as she moved forward into her Aunt's bedroom and feeling every ripple
and jiggle of flab across her frumpy body with uncomfortable attention as she
did so. Her generous and expansive backside encased in the stretch white Capri-pants
the last of her to stop wobbling as she stood still.
Doris rolled her eyes a little and couldn't help but laugh
slightly before saying 'Maggie, look who you're talking to.'
Doris' bingo-winged arms were out wide, her red nailed and
chubby old fingers stretched openly, indicating the entirety of her flabby old
self. Maggie bit her wrinkled lips a little when she realized her complaints
about her new status as a fat woman might have been a little insensitive
towards her Aunt.
'Oh I'm sorry Aunt Doris, I didn't mean anything by it--'
'Don't be silly dear, I know you didn't. Listen, I
completely understand. It's not easy carrying around all that weight.
Especially when you have older bones like...well...like we do. And it must be
especially hard when it's come upon you all of a sudden like it has, I can't
even begin to imagine how uncomfortable and tiresome it must be.'
Maggie sighed, growing slightly used to and less bothered by
such discussions, discussions where the language cemented her as some fat and
frail old biddy, just like her Aunt.
'It's tough yeah...' Maggie looked down at her sagging
paunch and then grabbed at a flabby fold at her side, otherwise hidden beneath
her thick cardigan.
'I've gotten slightly more accustomed to it though' she
continued, 'I don't grunt as much when I get up from the chair or from the bed.
I don't get as out of breath or sweaty when I'm walking up the stairs.'
Maggie shook her head in a resigned sort of shock. Amazed
and somewhat sickened that she was talking this way.
'I don't have an excuse' Doris said, still dabbing at her
head with the towel 'I just let the weight pile on over the years, I hardly
even noticed it was happening until I looked in the mirror one day and really
saw it. I was fat. Plain and simple.'
'Maybe it's a genetic thing' Maggie said 'Might just run in
the family.'
'Maybe...' Doris said with a lightness in her voice '...your
grandma had started to put on weight before she passed, and our mother had
always been heavy for as long as I can remember.'
'Everyone except my mom then' Maggie said, joking but also
undoubtedly a little bitter. Unable to fathom that her 23 year old self was now
categorically overweight and matronly in appearance and her 44 year old mother,
who had always maintained a trim and toned physique her entire life, was still
slim and attractive. In the back of her mind the thought occurred to her that
if she ended up stuck this way, she'd probably just give all of her old stylish
and trendy clothes to her mother, who even at 44 was more than capable of
pulling them off. She in turn would continue to receive clothes from her Aunt
Doris, plus size, frumpy, dated and designed specifically and purposefully for
middle-aged and elderly women. Maggie gulped hard and anxiously at the thought,
her pink nails tracing the faint dangling turkey-wattle beneath her chin ever
so gently.
'But you're trim Maggie' Doris said, 'when you're your
normal self you really take after your mother.'
'Well if I ever do get back to normal I'm going to be
putting in some extra time at the gym to prevent a gut when I actually hit my
sixties.' Maggie said, her stance returned to the arched at side and limp of
earlier.
'Wish I had done that' Doris joked.
'It's not just the weight though...' Maggie expressed, her
eyes looking through her glasses and down towards her pink toes, 'My hair has
been bothering me too.'
'Your hair?'
'Yeah.'
'What about it sweetheart, it looks quite nice to me.'
Maggie's hair was still in a youthful and full looking messy
bun that to an out of touch old lady like Doris looked trendy and stylish, but
to a very fashion and appearance conscious young-minded Maggie knew she pulled
off terribly when paired with her matured body.
'Well thanks but...it's going grey.'
Doris sat silent, unsure of exactly what to say in response.
'I just think it makes me look a lot older than I actually
am...well...I do look older than I actually am but you get what I'm saying?
It's just really limp and sort of lifeless. It's the color of straw for God's
sake.' The aged girl had turned her eyes upward as if looking toward the pile
of gray/lackluster blonde atop her head.
'I think I should maybe...dye it. And it's too long
for...well...I think it's too long for someone who...looks as old as I do. I
should get it cut. Do something with it, anything just to make it look more...'
'...age appropriate?' Doris finished, grimacing hesitantly
as she did.
'Yeah' Maggie sighed in resignation 'that's the term for
it.'
'Well, I couldn't help you there dear. I'm awful at that
sort of thing I--'
'Sorry to interrupt Aunt Doris but I was actually thinking
more like...a salon.'
Doris sat there both still and silent, her fat rump
wriggling on the bed slightly as she got herself more comfortable.
'You want to go to a salon?'
Maggie nodded.
'I could...I could get you an appointment for next Tuesday
if you like. I go to Sally's here in Easy Springs, they're very good.'
'That sounds fine by me' Maggie said, her expression a
little lighter, aware that she was signing herself up for a journey out of the
house. Her first real exposure to the outside world as her grandmotherly new
self.
'I'll let you finish getting ready Aunt Doris' she continued
as she began to waddle back across the room and out of her Aunt's bedroom door,
hand on the handle ready to close it behind her.
'Just a second dear' Doris interrupted, Maggie pushing the
door slightly open further, her old gray head leaning in.
'What name will I put this under?'
Maggie didn't take long to think at all.
'Margaret' she said 'Put it under Margaret Barnes.'
'Are you sure about this Maggie? It's still very early into
this whole thing, forcing yourself out there, calling yourself Margaret, it
wont be easy sweetheart. Are you ready for all that?'
Maggie's wrinkled eyes blinked a little in concentration,
and she smacked her dry mouth just a bit before responding.
'I guess we'll find out' she said, a certain positive tone
in the timbre of her aged voice.
'Okay then' Doris said, nodding as Maggie shut the door and
left her Aunt to get dressed.
On the other side of the door, Maggie began to breath
deeply. There were small tears forming at the corner of her tired eyes, and she
lifted her chained glasses just slightly, using a pink-tipped finger to gently
but quickly wipe them away. She swallowed the tears back, breathing out slowly.
She looked down at her elderly hands. Plump, pale and decorated with faint
liver-spots. She nodded to herself knowingly. Knowing that she had no choice
but to become 'Margaret' when outside the private comfort of her Aunt's home.
That she would have to quickly accept that when she walked outside, people
would only see her as a fat old lady and nothing more. She carefully walked
down the stairs, one hand on the railing as the other hand rested against her
hip. It always twinged just a tad when she walked up and down the stairs, she
would have to be more liberal with the nightly ointment she thought to herself.
She stopped briefly when she reached the bottom of the
stairs. Confronted with a picture of her grandmother Margaret, that was taken
not long before her death. It was a sweet picture, her grandmother was out in a
field somewhere, smiling in the warm sun at some joke from someone off the
frame. It was a candid shot and it had been taken on her birthday, Maggie's
grandfather Richard haven taken his wife out for a picnic with friends, Doris
included, in celebration. Maggie remembered her grandmother fondly, they had
spent a lot of time together before she died. She had missed her when Ashley
was born, wishing her young sister could have met her and experienced her
warmth. She missed her even more when her father left as suddenly and abruptly
as he did, remembering her mother Julie's thought to be private cries to have
her back, to have her guidance and help, and Maggie wishing for the same. She
missed her now. Wishing she could be here to tell her she'd be okay and that
she'd get through this, having this incredible ability to soothe and reassure
like no-one else she had ever encountered.
Maggie stood here now, a strange reflection of her. Plump
and grandmotherly herself now, wearing the kind of clothes she would have worn,
the glasses she would have needed, soon to take her name. She was unnerved by
this greatly, sickened even.
'I didn't want this' she mumbled to the photo ahead of her,
'I didn't. I don't have a choice at this point...I know I look like you now, I
know that I'm about to be Margaret Barnes when I walk out the door from now
until I change back...if I change back.'
Maggie swallowed hard again, fighting back the tears. Doris
was still upstairs, Maggie could hear the blow dryer.
'And I'm so scared and I'm so confused. More than ever
before, I wish you were here to help me.'
Her eyes were fixed to the photo. She had remembered that
day, her grandmother and grandfather had stopped by the house for a few hours
and her mother had gifted her a new coat. A light blue, expensive looking
thing. This had been before her Grandmother and Grandfather had journeyed out
to the country-side to meet friends.
'Sometimes I think I'll never be myself again. That this is
it from now on' she continued 'and if that's the case. Like you, and like
mom...I'll stick it out. Despite it all, I'll do my best to keep from
crumbling. From giving in.'
Her Grandmother had looked so happy that day. She always
seemed to be like that. Radiating light and kindness.
'And I promise...I won't be you. Whatever I end up as,
whether I get back to my normal self, whether I'm stuck this way. I promise
that even if I have to keep calling myself Margaret Barnes for the rest of my
life, I will not be you. You were one of a kind, and I know you'd want me to
fight for myself, for my identity, even in these insane circumstances.'
Maggie could hear the hair dryer from her Aunt's room stop,
and with that she walked further down the stairs and wiped her teary eyes with
her cardigan sleeve. Staring at the photo one last time before she walked into
the living room she whispered gently...
'I won't be you.'
Maggie was scarily aware of herself as she, in her
once-feared conservative navy pumps, clacked down the clean Easy Springs
side-walk, the summer sun beating down on her plump and sagging face as she
gradually made her way towards Sally's Salon in the quaint little town's
center. She was scarily aware of how she was moving, having not moved so much
or in such strident form since the transformation now a little over a week ago.
She had gotten somewhat accustomed to the restricted and limited movements of
her housebound self, the fleshy weight about her person not feeling so heavy,
the aches and pains of new old age either dealt with (in the form of her
strangely treasured ointment) or sort of ignored. Maggie having now, even in
her short-time as an elderly woman, having learned to live and put up with them
just as any other old person did, where she was conscious of them when they
flared up but was now no longer distracted or intimidated by them, the aches
and twinges merely a part of her bodily makeup now. This walk into the center
of Easy Springs was bringing up new challenges for the aged girl however, and
as her driven and ambitious self always was, Maggie was hyper vigilant to the
nuances and gritty details of said challenge. That meant that her sharp senses
were turned firmly inward. Now currently as she walked onward, Maggie was as
conscious of her dumpy and matronly new body now as she was on that first day,
where every slight jiggle and swish of fat had been felt in a very surreal,
overwhelming way.
She could feel her wide new self swaying from side to side
ever so slightly as she walked, her fat and flabby behind rhythmically rippling
with each landed step that she could feel vibrate through her sensibly
elastic-waisted navy slacks and her gray granny panties. Maggie's soft gut held
snugly by the latter with all of the rolled flesh once again tucked into her
elderly-minded underwear so that it didn't jiggle as much, but instead formed a
perfectly round and noticeable bulge, which Maggie thought might actually be worse.
Her meaty thighs were quivering, the sensation much like how she imagined it
would feel if her formerly skinny leg was being weighted down by some soft but
heavy dangling material that swayed and swished about the top of her legs when
she moved at any speed that wasn't snail's pace. Without really thinking about
it, the arm and hand that wasn't supporting a large, over-sized blue handbag
borrowed from her Aunt, had gone that arched, feminine, limp way again. Her
pink nails just dangling softly as she shuffled along the side-walk.
It was awful for Maggie to be so aware of all of this, a
strange burden/gift of her being so suddenly old, and so used to the
physicality of youth. Other elderly women or men for that matter, like Doris,
grew into such sensations over time and as such never really thought about them
in such a direct way. Maggie on the other hand, was at this moment in time
overwhelmingly reminded of how frumpy and mature she had become. She had
amazingly and also a little scarily managed to filter out these sensations
throughout that first week and was genuinely getting used to them, walking out
in the hot sun, her fat body moving at speeds it had simply not gone before
though, was a whole other story.
Maggie was horrified when she summed up this collection of
sensations. Recognizing that her movement was, and could only be described as
definitively, undoubtedly...a waddle. She waddled now. This deep embarrassment
Maggie felt that came with her new found gait was a more than fair feeling for any
trim and sexy young 23 year old girl who had suddenly become a double-chinned,
thigh-chafing, bellied old grandma over night. She knew that this was the case
and not just some exaggerated conclusion born out of her self-consciousness and
anxiety about being outside finally, but because she could see her Aunt Doris
waddling along side her. All the sensations Maggie could feel were mirrored
verbatim in the movements of her Aunt. From the jiggling backside, shaking
thunder thighs to the limp-wristed, overtly feminine manner of holding her
hands. This final aspect being the only thing Maggie didn't really notice in
herself. Her Aunt's movements were more pronounced than her own however due to
Doris' additional heaviness.
The hot weather also didn't help matters. Both Maggie and
Doris finding themselves huffing and puffing periodically and sweating, the
aged girl so unused to dealing with her new found fatness in such a powering
heat. She had even taken to wagging her plump hand towards her laugh-lined face
to give her some cool air, a very womanly gesture, and her Aunt Doris was doing
the same.
'Probably a bad decision to wear the pant-suit in this heat
Maggie dear' Doris panted, she herself wearing a light and breezy but gaudy
purple summer-dress that was somewhere between 'old timer at church' and
'mumu'. The aged girl was wearing a navy pantsuit, with a white blouse, and
much to her own dismay some support hose, which she had argued was simple and
didn't make her feel so much like a fashion victim. Now she was carrying her
navy blazer under the same arm as her giant purse.
Maggie felt unworldly levels of embarrassment from the
realization that she was sweating and wheezing uncomfortably in the heat like
some hot pig, her older bones clearly searching for some relief when she found
herself having to stand still for a second.
'Hold on...Aunt Doris...just a second' she waved at her
flabby Aunt who was just a tiny bit ahead of her on the side-walk. Doris paused
and turned, looking back at her aged Grand Niece, knowing full well the feeling
of being so overheated and tired from simply walking down the street. Fat
woman's burden. Doris remained patiently silent, understanding that the whole
predicament was more than likely very embarrassing and difficult for Maggie to
deal with.
The aged girl felt vulnerable once again. More vulnerable
than she had felt in the last few days. All of the struggle, just to move in
the heat, whether it was flab or her achy hips Maggie was just starting to feel
like such a....granny, and she also realized something even more terrifying
during her breather, the back of her hands now positioned against her juicy,
love-handled old hips in a further unthinking gesture of aged femininity, of
matron-hood, that she and her Aunt were not alone in this struggle. Maggie took
a look around the blue-skied neighborhood to see numerous men and women, all
over fifty, the majority looking around the same age as she and Doris, moving
achingly slow to and from their destinations. A great deal of them fat. Some
got on easier than others of course, but the general consensus was that Maggie
and her Aunt Doris were in the majority, and what was terrifying about that was
that to any onlooker, Maggie would be just one of many fat old ladies
struggling in the heat. She and her Aunt just two waddling grannies on their
way for a summer-friendly haircut. She was no different than any of them. Not
at all. She looked down at her navy pumps, lifting her left foot slightly and
seeing how it looked kind of thick and puffy. Something very common in elderly
women. Maggie tried to repress the negative thoughts, getting sick of these
constant bouts of heart-pounding or emotionally draining reminders of her new
status as a fat grandma.
In route of a mental escape, her mind was cast back to her
earlier in the day when she had spoken to her mother Julie on the phone
regarding her choice of cover story. It was not something she had been looking
forward to at all. As she stood there in the heat, one hand fluttering cool air
in her fattened old face and the other hanging limply by her at times achy hip,
Maggie couldn't help but replay the conversation in her head. Wishing she had
approached the subject with a bit more tact. She sighed to herself as she
caught her breath and continued to waddle on alongside her Aunt Doris, the long
phone conversation with her mom distracting her from the overwhelming heat
slightly.
She didn't know what was worse
really. The heat or that awkward discussion. It certainly hadn't gone as well
as she had hoped...
Maggie could feel her heart pounding through her flabby
chest, and it was so loud in her aged head that she found she was unable to
focus on the very lively conversation going on around her. She was staring
awkwardly into her own reflection, which was fuzzy and out of focus after she
had to remove her clunky granny glasses to ease the treatment of her tired,
graying hair. She was sitting now with her hair already dyed and treated, it
was damp and being held gently between the sharp, dark red-finger nails of
Sally, the salon's namesake. Maggie could see in the uneasy reflection that
Sally had that overtly mature and feminine gesture of a limp-wrist which
Maggie's Aunt Doris was so prone to utilizing. Maggie of course had picked up
the same matronly movement herself, and this expression had been weaving its
way into how she held her frumpy new self very gradually since waking up as an
old woman, but she was largely unaware of it. Perhaps purposely trying to
ignore that her mannerisms were clearly different and still changing as the
days went by.
Her Aunt Doris was graciously holding the conversation for
the both of them. Fielding questions aimed at Maggie about where she lives,
what the deal is with her house's foundations, how she's liking her stay at
Easy Springs and managing to answer them in a way that didn't seem like she was
obviously answering for Maggie. The aged girl herself had naturally said very
little. Really only nodding along to whatever her Aunt Doris said, with an
occasional 'Hmm yes...uh-huh...definitely' to not make her come across like a
completely socially challenged old biddy. Maggie would judge the mood of the
room and every now and again would smile or laugh lowly whenever Sally, or
Betty, Doris' good friend who had also came in for a haircut, said anything
funny. She would moan sternly and in agreement if the conversation turned even
remotely serious, and it did a few times. Betty having mentioned the passing of
her husband Michael a year ago, Sally mentioning losing her father around the
same time, a tut and a sad sigh would follow each downbeat in conversation.
Maggie, trying to pass for normal, simply did the same. Trying everything she
could not to convey the overwhelming levels of anxiety she was truly feeling
beneath her wrinkled flesh.
The aged girl was trying to wrestle with the fact that she
was sitting in a room with two complete strangers and was exposing this
grandmotherly, fat version of herself to them. She knew of course that these
two women saw nothing more than Doris' younger sister Margaret when they looked
at her. That they had never known her as Maggie, and never knew she was really
supposed to be skinny and sexy and truly blonde and about 44 years younger.
That they didn't look upon her with disgust or shock in the way that she had
done when she had first gazed upon herself, all fattened up and jiggling, with
aches in her joints. That they didn't see a strong and independent young woman
who had been weakened and made vulnerable, and who felt deeply embarrassed by
her predicament. They especially didn't see, and this was true of Doris also,
that Maggie was also running away from and harshly fighting strange, fleeting
moments of comfort and peace in this old body that scared her far deeper and
more totally than anything else. She knew they couldn't know any of that, but
that didn't stop the worry from gripping every inch of her bloated body.
She felt essentially paralyzed in the red leather swivel
chair as Sally, the plump middle-aged woman around her mother's age, with dark
bouffant hair and sporting a leopard print top that accentuated her impressive
cleavage, snipped and cut away at her head, continuing to talk and converse
with ease as she did so. Maggie was tapping her pretty pink nails against the
arm rests and was doing everything she could to engage with the room and act
like a normal person, to not fall away to the panic that hovered beneath her
matriarchal bosom. She had even managed to talk to Doris' friend Betty for what
must have been a solid minute about her 'grandchildren' no less before Doris
eventually rescued her from her this conversational prison.
'I have four now. God could you believe it? Two girls two
boys. My Johnathan has little Donnie and Oliver. Sarah has Jen and Maisie.
They're just the greatest. I still find it strange to think I'm someone's
grandmother, I'm only just getting around to the idea of being someone's mom am
I right?'
Betty laughed warmly, her wrinkled hand patting Maggie's arm
gently. The transformed 23 year old smiled awkwardly, nodding.
'Oh...yes...certainly'
'What age are your two girls then?'
'Ashley's nine and....Maggie...she's 23' she had said in
response, struggling to talk about herself in this distant, detached way.
'Oh wow, that's quite a jump between them. Maggie...she's
named after yourself Margaret is that right?'
'Yes...that's right' she had smiled.
'Oh that's such a sweet gesture from your daughter, honestly
Margaret I wish my daughter was as thoughtful as yours. She has two daughters
herself and not one mention of a “Beth” or even “Lizzy” when they were
born...it must make you proud dear.'
'Yes...it does' Maggie swallowed deeply, falling back into
easy distraction, blocking everything out.
She was doing this by focusing her gaze purely on the distorted
and hazy reflection ahead of her. The aged girl was squinting hard and blinking
rapidly, trying to see if she could clear the fuzz at all without the aid of
her glasses. Trying to see what gestures made the blur worse or better,
experimenting with the limits of her new, highly restricted field of vision.
She was horrified to learn that her eyesight seemed to have gotten worse.
Either that or she was only now realizing just how poor it had actually been
from the beginning. Without her clunky grandma glasses at the ready Maggie was
feeling very vulnerable and weak. The realization that she was now so reliant
on this elderly accessory, yet another of the seemingly endless markers of her
as a growing collection of granny clichés, was nothing short of horrifying.
Part of her was now nervously anticipating that further old
people necessities would begin working their way into her new life. How long
would it be before she needed hearing aids? Or dentures? Or a walker? Her hip
at times, when she had been conservative with the ointment or when it she had
moved too fast without thinking, could feel bad enough to require one, and
while she certainly didn't need hearing aids it was true that her range of
hearing had been diminished just enough to make her Aunt Doris have to repeat
sentences or enunciate words every so often for greater clarity. This
realization that she had turned to her Aunt on more than occasion and said
'What was that?' 'Could you say that again?' and 'I'm sorry could you speak up
a bit?' was only donning upon the aged girl now, as she sat helplessly in the
leather chair. Her tired eyes widened in a quiet panic.
Sally continued to cut at her damp hair, periodically
looking down and smiling widely at the old young woman. So much so that even despite
Maggie's impaired vision, she could make-out Sally's plump red lips stretch
across her round face and make her cheeks that much chubbier.
'So it shouldn't be that long now Margaret. Just need to
take the length off and then style it a bit before we blast you with the dryer,
okay hun?'
Maggie nodded and smiled, trying to make out her Aunt Doris'
expression through the reflection but failing. She couldn't even really tell
what color her hair was now but it looked basically white in her blurry eyes.
She remembered asking for a blonde dye but assumed that with Sally working so
exclusively on older women the blonde she received was more subdued and age
appropriate for a woman in her late sixties as Maggie now was. It would be
white-blonde, almost silver under certain lights she was sure. Maggie was also
getting nervous at the sheer level of hair falling to the floor. She was so
panicky and was so trapped in her own head when she had arrived that she could
barely remember what it was she had actually asked for. Her hair had always
been very long, reaching down to her back, and so watching it get shorter and
shorter with each chop of the scissors was only adding to the mountain of
anxiety that was growing within her. Her round body feeling trapped in the tight
leather chair, conscious that bits of flabby hip or backside might be pouring
out of the sides, Maggie's mind began to wander, doing anything it could to
remove herself from her current situation.
She was brought back to the phone conversation she had had
with her mother just a few days before. It hadn't gone well, not nearly as well
as it had with her Aunt Doris, and the aged girl was now deeply worried that
she had offended or upset her mother in a really deep, unfixable way that only
made their strained and severed dynamic that much worse. She had sat on the
edge of her bed in Doris' home, now entirely used to its moans and creaks under
the weight of her meaty, frumpy behind, the sound of struggling bed-springs
having accompanied her each morning since the change. The phone pressed against
her ear, Maggie's face sagged more than usual in her emotional exhaustion. Just
as the aged girl had feared Julie was rambling on the other end of the
receiver, relentless in her expression of dissatisfaction and unease at
Maggie's cover story.
'You are Maggie Harris, you are not your grandmother, and I
don't see why you have to act otherwise'
'Mom listen to me, this is only for when I'm dealing with
people outside of you and Aunt Doris. I can't...I can't be me...be Maggie when
I'm out there, when I look like this.'
'Yes you can. You don't need to say anything to anyone.
No-one's that nosy. It's no-one else’s business Maggie.'
'It's not as simple as that and you know it'
I really don't like this' she had said defiantly on the
other end of the phone, a mild anger taking hold of her expression.
It wasn't unfair of Julie to be so defiant here, it being a
tall task for anyone to be accepting of their aged daughter taking up the
identity of their deceased mother, even if it was just for dealing with
strangers. The very idea generating a great deal of panic and worry in the poor
woman. Maggie could hear her mother sigh deeply down the line. Julie was upset
but she wasn't ignorant, she was aware of how strange and complicated this
terrible situation was.
'Look Maggie, sweetheart, I know this isn't easy. I know
that just walking out of the house right now, just dealing with other people is
making you feel scared and nervous. That's totally fair, I understand being
prepared for that....what I don't understand is why you have to pretend to be
your own grandmother? That's my mother Maggie, did you not think about how I
would feel about this?'
Maggie rolled her wrinkled eyes behind her glasses,
disturbed and uneasy at the sound of her mother's obvious discomfort.
'That's not what I'm doing. I'm not pretending to be her.
I'm not changing how I think or act or anything like that. It's just a cover
story. It was the first thing that came to my head and honestly, it just makes
sense. It's so people don't ask too many questions, or think its weird. I mean
me saying I'm Aunt Doris' sister is a lot more believable and less suspicious
than if I said...well I don't even know...a friend visiting? What other story
could we possibly say? It just lines up.'
There was a pause and Maggie could practically hear Julie's
mind churning, thinking things over in the silence. The aged girl's wrinkled
lips had been dry as she the held the phone to her ear, licking them slightly
and hearing herself make slight slopping sounds as she anxiously awaited her
mother's response. Maggie's proto-jowls had looked more prominent then, a
side-effect of her sullen and depleted expression.
'I guess you have to do what you have to do Maggie. I just
think this is a dangerous road to go down. I don't want you to lose who you are
and I'm afraid that by creating this...other self...you're at risk of that.
Just promise me that whatever happens, you'll hold on to you.'
Maggie was fighting back the tears, placing her delicate
pink-tipped fingers to the bridge of her nose and sighing deeply.
'Of course. I promise mom, I don't want to lose me either.'
'I'm sorry honey, I don't know...I...do understand...kind
of...I get that it makes sense, it just makes me feel uneasy. My mother, your
grandmother, died a long time ago sweetheart. And to have you, as you are now,
using her name...there's just something very surreal and kind of...I don't
know...it just feels strange hon.'
'I know, it feels strange for me too Mom. You don't think
it's weird for me? I'd much rather that we didn't have to do this, I'm not
happy about it either but what else can we do?'
The conversation had persisted in much the same manner,
Julie finally being able to remove herself from the oddity of the scenario and
recognize that of any cover story they could muster, it simply made the most
sense and raised the least amount of eyebrows.
Julie had phoned at least once everyday of that week for
long periods of time, probing her transformed daughter full of questions and
hoping and praying for some change, some sign of things getting better but to
no avail. It was the same at the beginning of every conversation. 'How are you?
Has there been any changes? Are you feeling better?' It was heartbreaking for
both of them of course. For Maggie, hearing the panic and struggle in her
mother's voice was deeply troubling and hearing the sort of quiet, depressive
resignation in her daughter's voice for Julie was similarly disheartening. They
always got over that initial difficult hump to begin with however, and would
eventually talk deeply about what had been going on over the course of their
day, what they thought the next step should be, any new information whatsoever
that could possibly be of any help.
Julie had kept Maggie informed on the goings on of Ashley,
Billy and her friends in the meantime. Maggie learning that Ashley was still
none the wiser as to what was going on, still believing that Maggie was
half-way around the world living it up in Sweden and working away, although
apparently did express concern that she hadn't sent any photos or called since
her departure. Billy and Hayley had both gotten in touch with Julie
periodically over the week, asking the same questions Julie had bore to Maggie,
if there had been any developments, any positive signs of change. Julie kept
telling them the same thing, that the doctor's were still baffled and that she
hadn't made any developments positive or negative, much to their dismay. Billy
had come around at one point with a basket full of goodies in the hopes Julie
could get them to Maggie at the hospital, just candy and flowers etc. but an
incredibly sweet gesture nonetheless. Hearing such stories were difficult for
Maggie, who cried to herself quietly repeatedly at the thought of her friends
and family confused and suffering because of this whole mess. She never let her
mother know how upsetting this was however, as part of her truly did want to
know.
Maggie was pulled from her thoughts when she heard Sally's shrill
voice announce that she was finished. She had eventually stopped cutting when
the hair reached just below Maggie's shoulder, and even though Maggie couldn't
see it all that clearly, knowing that her hair had literally been halved in
length was almost surreal. It had been dried, styled, and after Sally added a
bit of volume with her hands, jazzing it up here and there, the ordeal was
finally over with.
'So what do you think hun?' Sally asked, a real chirp in her
sultry voice.
'I...I need my glasses...' Maggie croaked, still quite
shocked she had to say such a thing.
'Oh of course Margaret, I totally forgot. Here you are.'
Sally held the outdated old specs between her plump,
red-clawed fingers, which Maggie reached for a little hesitantly. As she pushed
them gently back over her cute button nose she blinked for clarity and the
world sharply began to pull into focus.
'Oh wow...' she muttered.
She could hardly believe it. She looked...good. Her hair was
essentially a long bob now and had been dyed as she had predicted, a very light
almost white blonde color. The hair looked clean, silky and most
importantly...age appropriate. It didn't make her look any younger at all, not
that that was ever really the focus. Now she looked respectable, sensible...a well
groomed mature woman. She was expecting to hate it. Expecting to burst into
tears at how she'd been forced to make all of these changes to herself, at how
she was falling deeper and deeper into this new life and yet...she was pleased.
Alongside the jowls, wrinkles, the glasses, the fat face...it just
looked...right. That warm feeling of calm and peace passed through her as it
had done a few times before. She placed her plump hand to her chest as it
spread, and was shocked to see herself actually smiling.
'It really looks great Sally, thank you' she said, fluffing
the hair up just a bit with her hand.
Part of her was alarmed at how frequently this sensation was
making itself apparent. How it was getting a little easier each time to let it
pass and take over. To let herself feel genuinely comfortable in this frumpy
old body. She meant what she had said to her mother, and what she had said to
herself...she would not lose who she was. No matter what, and in saying that
forced herself to stop looking at her elderly features with such passiveness
but instead to see them as foreign and alien. Her hand prodded at her
turkey-wattle neck, while the other gently poked at her fat stomach. 'This
isn't me' she thought to herself, 'this will never be me.'
'Ooh that looks so nice Margaret' Betty interrupted Maggie's
harsh contemplation.
'Thank you Betty' Maggie replied as she turned to the old
woman at her side, taking the opportunity to get a really good look at her Aunt
Doris' bingo buddy.
Betty was 69, Maggie remembering her mention that her 70th
was coming up at the end of the year. Betty was a big woman, not unlike
herself, but Maggie to her slight annoyance noticed that Betty wasn't quite as
large as herself or her Aunt Doris. She sat there with her own hair still
mid-treatment, a red dye setting in. There was something sort of glamorous
about the old woman though, not quite as frumpy as Doris, just a tad more
youthful.
'Time to endure that heat again I think huh
Mag...uh...Margaret' Doris said, rising to her feet slowly.
Maggie nodded and proceeded to lift her far heavier self out
of the uncomfortable chair. She had to place her hands on her knees as she sat
up, feeling them creak as she did, and couldn't help but utter a throaty grunt
in mild annoyance as she did so.
'You alright there dear?' Betty asked.
'Uh yes...' Maggie said, now fully to her pump encased feet,
one hand supporting her back, '...just...just some achy joints is all.'
'Oh you're not alone there honey' Betty laughed, her limp
hand waving in jest 'I swear I can't remember the last time I got up from a
chair without having to pre-meditate how fast as I was moving. That's what
you've got to look forward to young Sally.'
Betty winked at Maggie knowingly, and Maggie simply smiled
in response. It felt so strange, for a woman so old and plump and grandmotherly
to see her as her peer, as her equal. When Betty looked at Maggie she saw
someone like her, who understood the aches and pains of old age, of being
heavy, of being an old-timer in general...and it felt even more peculiar for
Maggie that she was scarily starting to reciprocate that camaraderie. She
understood exactly what Betty was talking about, and she knew that she
shouldn't. She snapped herself out of her train of thought, and feeling a bit
more relaxed than she had been initially, made her way over to Sally at the
till to pay. Doris had given her the money beforehand. As she did, Betty and
Doris began to chat away.
'So...can I count on seeing you ladies for the Bingo
tonight?' Betty asked.
Doris nodded.
'Well you know me, I never miss Bingo Tuesday. Highlight of
the week.'
'So Margaret's coming too?'
Doris hesitated for a second.
'Uh well...I don't know about that'
Betty turned her head back to face the till and called over
to Margaret directly 'Are you joining us for Bingo tonight Margaret dear?'
Margaret heard the words and knew Betty was talking to her,
but to her slight horror she couldn't make them out. She couldn't hear her
properly. Maggie turned and scrunched her face up in slight confusion.
'What was that?'
Betty spoke a little louder.
'I said...are you joining us for Bingo?'
Maggie heard a bit better this time, but still couldn't make
it out clearly. This time however it was more out of anxiety than her weakened
hearing, fretting over the fact she had misheard in the first place and was now
unable to really concentrate. Sally leaned across the till, handing Maggie her
change.
'She's asking if you're going to be at Bingo tonight
sweetie.'
'Oh...thanks Sally' Maggie said, swallowing nervously and
coughing just a tad before waddling back across to Doris and Betty. Doris could
see the shaken look upon her Grand Niece's face.
'I uh...I don't play bingo Betty, sorry'
Betty laughed, looking up at Doris from her chair,
surprised.
'You don't? Really?'
'Margaret's never been one for it' Doris said, picking up
for Maggie, 'It's fine though, I'll be there tonight as always, we'll have
fun.'
'Oh but you should really come Margaret, it's great fun.
Even if you don't play, you should just come for the drinks'
Maggie stood there a little quiet and reserved, looking down
to her conservative feet, accentuating her double-chin.
'I--'
'Come on don't be so boring now. You're not going to be in
town for that long right? Might as well make the most of it while you're here.'
Maggie looked to Doris for some help and found her Aunt
wearing a strange expression. Her Aunt Doris seemed to indicate in her face
that maybe Maggie should just come along. The truth was Doris had been so
worried about Maggie falling deeper into her depressive slump that the idea of
Maggie being forced into the outside world, interacting with other people,
learning to enjoy herself again, seemed to her to be more positive than the
alternative. She knew that Bingo and the like wouldn't be to Maggie's liking,
and given her predicament might even make her feel worse about herself, but if
she could learn to get over those fears and worries now and early, it might be
better for her well-being in the long run. Doris stopped her contemplating and
returned Maggie's gaze.
'It's your call dear' she said.
Maggie thought for a second. On the one hand, she was
terrified of the prospect of meeting even more people. The process of just
sitting with two strangers in her current form had left her feeling paralyzed
and heart-poundingly nervous. Her mind was desperate, in its fear, to simply have
her waddle back to her Aunt Doris' house and lay in her reclining chair.
Watching TV, reading her book, drinking her tea. That would be the easier
option. Yet on the other hand, the aged girl had forced herself out of the
house, forced herself to endure her grandmotherly self in the company of
strangers, forced herself to get a hair-cut, which she dreaded curse or no
curse...and she was still standing.
For all of the anxiety and panic that she had felt just a
few minutes before, and for all that she knew was still to come, Maggie
recognized in that moment that she was never going to get any better just
sitting around and wallowing. That she should try and have fun wherever she
could right now, although the idea of playing bingo with a bunch of old ladies
was one of the last things she'd ever consider to be 'fun', it was still a
start. She sighed with a slight resignation and nodded.
'Uh...yeah...sure then. I guess we'll both see you tonight.'
Betty's eyes widened in delight.
'Oh this'll be fun. You'll get to meet all the girls. I
promise that it isn't as dull as it sounds dear, bingo can be exciting I swear.
Besides, it's all about the sherry's and melon balls anyhow!' The old woman
chuckled away as Maggie's eyes drifted to meet Doris'.
There was a knowing look upon her Great Aunt's face of quiet
reassurance that everything would be OK. Maggie wasn't quite sure what it was
she was signing up for or what this might symbolize in the long run, but she
knew that from now on that she wasn't going to allow this body, this curse to
stop her from living.
A sense of determination and readiness taking a hold of her,
the aged girl stretched her wrinkled lips into a wide smile.
'I can hardly wait.'
Doris touched up her lipstick as she waited. She could hear
Maggie in her room across the hall, stomping around on her newly heavy feet,
cursing openly and muttering to herself. Doris' hearing was a lot better than
her aged Grand Niece's apparently, as through both closed doors she could just
make out these puffs of words like '..doesn't look right..' '...look to fat...'
'...look to old...' etc. Doris had been ready for twenty minutes already,
sitting in her vanity chair straightening out her printed blue flowery dress,
dusting stray bits of fluff from the sleeve of her lilac waterfall jacket and
trying to be patient and not intervene as Maggie, clearly, struggled to find
something to wear for tonight's Bingo session. Despite the fact that her friend
Betty was supposed to stop by for them on her way in just under fifteen minutes
and was growing increasingly anxious that Maggie wouldn't be ready in time. She
had to accept that Bingo night, which was undoubtedly her favorite night of the
week, where she and her friends would get together and laugh and swap stories
and gossip, where she'd let her dark dyed hair down and allow herself to get
more than a little drunk; this night that she enjoyed so much and looked
forward to every week was quite contrarily, something of a potential living
nightmare for her aged Grand Niece to walk into and experience.
Doris couldn't quite empathize with Maggie's current panic
as much as she usually could however. She did understand of course that her
Grand Niece was still nervous about interacting with the outside world in this
elderly new form of hers, that meeting new people and trying to maintain a
conversation with these people in the guise of someone else, her own
grandmother no less, would be difficult for her. She also knew that Maggie was
still deeply embarrassed about exposing her fleshy, jiggle-prone old body to
anyone, particularly when she had no other option than to dress such a body in
what was unarguably grandmotherly, matronly attire that was diametrically
opposed in almost every way to the trendy and chic sensibilities of her
fashion-savvy, 23 year old mind. These were all aspects of Maggie's current
crisis that Doris could resonate with. The issue preventing her from fully
accepting the weighted stomps of frustration and worry that came from across
the hall however, was that Doris quite simply loved Bingo night.
Having played it for so many years so regularly with the
same group of friends, going to the Bingo hall on a Tuesday had taken on a
greater level of significance for the old woman. It was more than just a game
for old biddies like anyone younger than 55 seemed to think, in fact it really
wasn't about the Bingo at all. It was actually about companionship and staying
connected with friends. The sad reality of being a 72 year old woman is that
throughout her life, Doris has had to watch more than a few of her friends
either pass away or perhaps more tragically, slip gradually into obscurity and
then vanish entirely. Her self-imposed exile from her family all those years
ago after her sister and brother in law's untimely death also played into this
unique sort of loneliness that only the elderly seem to really understand.
Before Maggie and Julie came crashing back into her life a week ago most nights
for Doris were spent in solitude. Watching TV, maybe knitting, pottering around
the house and straightening up rogue doilies and making sure the ceramic cats
in the living room cabinet weren't getting dusty, until Bingo Night on Tuesday,
where her world opened up again, and where she could leave her isolation at the
door of her home as she waddled down the sidewalk towards the Bingo Hall in the
town's center.
As such, Bingo now is firmly ingrained in Maggie's Great
Aunt as a night where friendship, fun and a real sense of living reign. With
all of that said, it was difficult for Doris to align herself with Maggie's
uneasy reluctance towards Bingo, hoping dearly that her aged Grand Niece would
find that same sense of fun abandon in between number calls as she and her
friends did. She wanted Maggie to use this night as an opportunity to put all
of the stress and uncertainty of the last week behind her. To forget her
incredible and devastating situation for just a few hours, to forget that she's
living away from her home, to forget that her mother and sister aren't to hand
to comfort her, to forget that her long-term boyfriend is losing his mind with
worry for her somewhere, to forget that her friends are having conversations
about what they will wear to their graduation parties while she is figuring out
what to wear to bingo, to forget that just a little over a week ago she was an
attractive, toned and stylish girl in her early twenties, to forget....that she
was Maggie Harris and not Margaret Barnes.
Doris rubbed her red-tipped fingers against her wrinkled
brow in frustration with the direction of her thoughts. She was thinking
negatively again. Allowing that deep-seated, unspeakable fear that resided at
the bottom of her substantial stomach to guide her thinking. The fear shared
between herself, Julie and the girl in question...that Maggie would never
return to her normal self and would be stuck as a plump elderly woman forever.
Of the three, it was Doris who was most prone to this thinking. She didn't want
to, she didn't like that her mind often drifted back to this potential outcome,
but in her growing understanding of Maggie's situation, the likelihood of her
Grand Niece suddenly waking up as her spry, young self again, never to return
to granny panties or orthopedic insoles for at least another forty years was
getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing day. There was the very real
possibility in her mind that Maggie would be needing glasses and hip ointment
for the rest of her life, and the thought truly sickened her.
In a lot of ways, Maggie showing up on Doris' doorstep in her
current condition had forced her to begin reflecting on her own life. No-one
ever thinks of themselves as old, not really. The creeping wrinkles that
decorate the eyes or the gradual sagging of the cheeks, these things hide in
the background of one's life so subtly that they are grown into and accepted
with little question. No-one just wakes up old....except Maggie of course, and
this sudden physical shift of her Grand Niece, from youthful, strong and
strident into something plump, soft and frail has made Doris start to pay
attention her own drooping bosom and belly flab for the first time in a long
time.
She had poked and prodded at her spongy, jowly face in the
mirror privately a few times since her Grand Niece's arrival. Pulling the
sagging skin from her face back and trying to find the pretty young woman that
used to reside there, only for her to let it go and watch herself age rapidly
into the jolly old grandma she had become. It wasn't like she had begun to
worry about how old she was getting, having accepted when she turned 70 that to
fuss and fret over such things is both foolish and dangerous to one's psyche.
At her age, being able to say she moves freely and knows her own mind, and
doesn't require a team of staffers to look after her and make sure she's not
getting too forgetful or having too much trouble climbing the stairs, is good
enough. Doris realized however that she never had to come to terms with being
old, it wasn't something she was ever forced to accept or confront like poor
Maggie was.
She couldn't even begin to imagine how frightening and
surreal it must be for the aged girl, to wake up every day and face a stranger.
To have to contend with the fact that her life as she knew it may very well be
over. A life full of possibility and future replaced by one of sedentary
reflection and quiet. This is why on some level that she's not remotely willing
to admit to herself, she can't help but half-hope Maggie does just give in to
what's happened to her. Totally and utterly. To start thinking of herself on
the terms she now operates, as old, as fat, as someone's grandmother. As a
person who needs glasses and who can't hear as well as she used to, as a person
who needs to walk a little slower so she doesn't risk hurting herself, as a
person whose hobbies include bingeing soap operas, drinking astonishing amounts
of tea and playing Bingo. Although she'd never admit it, or even dare say it
aloud, on some hidden level of her sub-conscious this is how Doris hopes Maggie
will begin seeing herself.
It's not as if Doris is happy about Maggie's predicament or
would rather not see her return to normal, far from it. At this point if it
meant Doris giving up her own tired and quiet life to save the youth of her
Grand Niece she would do so in a heartbeat. However for Doris, the feeling that
this is it for Maggie from now on is becoming too strong to ignore or suppress
any longer. If that really is the case, then Maggie must forget Maggie. If the
aged girl can learn to embrace this new life of hers, to start looking in the
mirror, see the white-blonde hair and the turkey wattle neck and accept them as
belonging to her, to start seeing herself as an old woman instead of seeing
herself as a young woman trapped in an elderly body, then it might just save
her drastically altered, and most likely shortened life.
Doris saw at the beginning how
depleted and deathly Maggie's expression had been. She could feel the sadness,
the longing, the confusion that emanated so strongly from her...and she was
scared for the aged girl. A weaker person would have already caved in and
either lost their mind completely or decide to end things for good, but Maggie
is still holding strong. Now Maggie's Great Aunt just hopes that if this is to
be her life moving forward, that she is also strong enough to let go of the
stylish young go-getter she once was, and has the courage to embrace the
matronly old lady that she's sadly become...for her own sake. As living that
life that she herself leads, that uniquely lonely, quaint elderly life that she
grew into over time as does everyone; to live that kind of existence and to
know you were supposed to be living otherwise, that you were forty something
years too early for achy hips and a sagging paunch, to know that your youth had
been altogether robbed from you and forever destroyed...would be a special kind
of torture that she dared not even conceive.
The chattering and gossipy old tongues of the elderly acted
as the background noise to Maggie's entry into the Bingo Hall. Her baggy eyes
shifting behind the clunky glasses that she now needed so badly, taking in her
alien surroundings. The off-blue and orange 70's style carpet that decorated
the hallway at the front entrance stole her attention upon arrival, her trained
and now wrinkled eye for style and classy decoration reacting instinctively to
its gaudy and outdated design. The carpet was well kept and clean however, and
she could feel her white, open-toed court shoes sink softly into its plush
fabric as she plodded along behind her Aunt Doris and Betty.
They walked on just a little ahead of the aged girl,
chatting away to one another as their croaky tones fell into the general haze
of elderly voices that murmured busily about them all. She watched with a
slight angst as her Aunt Doris' generous backside swayed back and forth in her
purple and cream dress, the faint jiggle of cellulite apparent with each
waddled step, noticeable only to Maggie's self-conscious view. Self-conscious
given that she knew more than well enough by now that her own fatty rump moved
in much the same way as her Aunt's, and her liver-spotted hand would
infrequently and quickly take to feeling her frumpy behind as she walked,
trying poorly to hide or undermine its general plumpness as she swayed onward.
Her gentle old hand patting away at her black elastic-waisted pants as if to
wipe or brush the flab away.
Maggie was clinging her faded fingers sharply around a
white, over-sized purse that she had borrowed from Doris in a last minute rush
before Betty had arrived to pick them up. She had panicked over what to wear,
this being her first time at Bingo, and this being her first time interacting
with so many people in this new form of hers, as Margaret. She wasn't actually
as nervous as she thought she would be, her experience at the Salon earlier
that day having allowed the aged girl to get over that initial fear of people
seeing her in all her matured, joint-aching glory. It was a bitter-sweet sort
of feeling for Maggie to know that everyone just saw her as an ordinary old
woman. While on the one hand it sickened the aged girl down to her flabby gut
to realize that she showed no traces of the attractive young woman she truly
was beneath this frumpy appearance, this understanding did also allow the aged
girl to move more freely however. She was able to now begin interacting with
others, and generally be less self-conscious about her grandmotherly new
appearance in the face of strangers. She understood now, as she waddled through
the doors of the large Bingo Hall and was greeted by a small sea of grey-haired
old biddies sitting cramped around tables, giddy for Bingo to begin, that to
all except her mother and her Aunt, Maggie was just one of many plump old
grandmas eager to drink a melon ball or two and catch up with her old lady
friends. Only her Aunt Doris could see the reality of it, the frightened young
woman hidden beneath the flabby folds of a warm, elderly matriarch, and
admittedly, it was getting more and more difficult for Doris to keep this
practice up.
Turning her head back towards her Grand Niece, Doris was
struggling to separate the young Maggie Harris from the elderly Margaret Barnes
persona she had recently adopted. Despite the obvious reluctance in the aged
girl's body language, and the uneasy, wandering eye of someone unfamiliar with
their surroundings, Maggie undoubtedly looked like she belonged there. Doris of
course had been trying to suppress these negative, pessimistic feelings in
herself regarding Maggie's situation. Knowing that despite whatever she
believed and felt deep down, (the belief that Maggie would be stuck this way
and would be better off embracing her new life whole-heartedly) she knew had no
right to guide or force Maggie into a position where she would actively give in
to this new life of hers. She had to allow her Grand Niece to come to that
unfortunate realization herself. Doris naturally wanted nothing more than for
Maggie to return to normal. She begged God, the Universe, whoever would listen
for just that every-night...but she was also a realist. She just hoped that she
was wrong.
The bingo was an opportunity for Maggie to let go of some of
the insanity she had been facing for the past week, and part of Maggie was
honestly quite excited at the prospect of just letting her newly white-blonde
hair down and forget herself for a few hours. Her Aunt Doris had said as much
before they left, telling the aged girl to try and have fun and to just let the
atmosphere of the night dictate her thoughts. She had been fighting this change
so hard, every step of the way that she was now both mentally and emotionally
exhausted. A true break and relief from all of the stress and anxiety that had
built up around her was more than welcomed, and Maggie had made it her private
mission to actually allow herself to enjoy the night...no matter how much it
bothered her that playing Bingo with a group of old ladies in her current state
seemed to only further cement her as a cliché old granny in the making.
The hall itself was expansive, well-lit and surprisingly,
for a crowd of senior citizens, sort of loud. Maggie had never seen so many
elderly people together in one place before in her entire life, and to know
that she didn't stand out, and in fact actually appeared to belong among these
old-folks stirred parts of Maggie's negative and anxious thinking that she was
trying with all her might to suppress. The aged girl spied two old women
directly in front of her, shuffling along in a stiff but hurried rush to their
seats. They looked quite a bit older than both herself and her Aunt Doris, and
were holding each other arm in arm in support, carefully ensuring that the
other didn't fall as they made their way. The younger Maggie might have thought
the picture of two little old ladies helping one another along sweet if she
were not now only ten or so years from needing such support herself. The very
idea that she could still be trapped in this elderly form for as long as that,
and would be straining her aching hip and creaky knees for bingo each week,
that she might still be living in Easy Springs in ten years time where she
would be nearing 80 years old was simply too frightening a thought for Maggie
to dwell upon for any longer than a second.
The place was far busier than she had anticipated, and
Maggie found herself having to manoeuvre her newly fattened self in ways she
hadn't had to yet. As she excused herself through small crowds of elderly folk,
her soft and expansive stomach held snugly by her granny panties and black top
at one point brushing against a similarly weighted old man's belly as they
struggled past one another, Maggie picked up on a distinct, but not unpleasant
odor. She went back into her mind and tried to place the smell, her heart
sinking slightly when she realized that she was actually picking up on the
famous 'old people smell'. That sort of non-offensive, stuffy odor that old
people gradually develop over time. Maggie had actually noticed it when she
first arrived at her Aunt Doris' home, but in the initial panic of her
situation and haven gotten so used to it over the week, she had largely managed
to block it out and forget all about it. Now however, in a room filled with so
many other senior citizens as she herself now was, Maggie quietly realized that
she more than likely emanated this very same aroma that marked her quite
distinctly as a person in her twilight years. She initially wondered if she had
picked up vicariously via her Aunt Doris, having spent so much of the last week
simply lazing around the doily-heavy home, but she knew better than that.
Whatever the old witch had done to her...the transformation was total. Her
breasts were fat and saggy like an old woman's, her face was wrinkled and plump
like an old woman, her very joints ached and creaked like an old woman's....so
why wouldn't she smell like one too?
Maggie could even remember discussing the phenomena of old
person smell not all that long ago with Billy when the two of them had visited
his grandparents sometime around Christmas the year previous. Billy's
grandparents, Max and Liza, were a sweet old couple in their late 80's that
were fairly spry for their age. However, as spry as they were, neither them nor
their quaint little home had managed to avoid that smell. She had mentioned it
to Billy quietly at one point after his Grandma Liza left the room to help Max
in the kitchen.
'Do you smell that?'
'Smell what? Is it bad?' he had asked.
'No, not really. It's not bad per se. Just...a smell
y'know?'
'Yeah well..I mean they're pretty old Maggie, and old people
have that...stuffy sort of smell...y'know?'
'I guess I'm not around old people enough to really notice.
Never knew that was a thing.'
The aged girl sighed at the thought as she closed herself
off from that memory. Knowing that she now shared significantly more in common
with her boyfriend's grandmother, down to her very smell, than she did to her
young, lithe, and odorless former-self was taxing for her self-esteem.
'Hey sweetheart...'
Maggie was pulled from her thoughts by the concerned and
soothing voice of her Great Aunt Doris. In among the rabble of the elderly folk
getting drinks, chatting and making their way to their seats before the Bingo
Caller started, Doris placed her plump hand on Maggie's similarly fleshy,
white-shawl encased arm.
'How are you feeling?'
Maggie looked down to her exposed pink toes before returning
her Aunt's gaze, smiling sort of sadly.
'I'm OK actually. Better than I thought I would be.'
The elderly girl took a quick look around the room, eyeing
up the various elderly men and women who were already enjoying themselves
before anything had even started yet. This was such a normal and fun night for
them all. None of them, bar her Great Aunt, could possibly understand how this
night for her held such significance. This was truly a turning point for Maggie
in her struggle against this in-explainable change. Her first real step out
into the world as someone entirely new, and that was frightening for many
reasons. She wanted to just enjoy herself as any of the other old biddies about
her would, but she also didn't want to enjoy herself too much. Those fleeting
moments of peace and tranquility...of a sense of this somehow
being....right...were coming more often than before. She fought them less and
less each time, and as such was growing more comfortable in this sagging, plump
skin of hers. The urge to kick back at this sensation, her stubborn instinct to
fight all obstacles with severity and tact was strong...but she would allow
herself this break tonight.
'I'm glad honey' Doris replied 'I know this is all very
difficult. I just want you to try and have some fun if you can. You deserve
some relief.'
'Thanks for encouraging me to come. I know I've dragged my
heels a bit, but I do really want to try and...have fun...it's just a little
scary y'know? I can't help but wonder if I'll end up playing Bingo alongside
you and your friends every week now, indefinitely....and that's sort of hard to
process, if that makes sense.'
'I understand completely Maggie, and I don't think you were
dragging your heels dear. I think given everything you've been through you've
handled this all with incredible...um...'
'….maturity?' Maggie asked, her eyebrows raising in jest,
deepening the wrinkles of her forehead.
Doris nodded and gave a throaty laugh.
'Yes honey that's the word....maturity.'
'You can say things like that y'know. I don't find it that
weird...not anymore...I mean, I'm old now right? If I'm going to be 'Margaret'
when I leave the house, and if I'm going to be interacting with others like
this...then I'm going to have to accept that people will treat me...as I am...'
Doris could see the struggle returning in her Grand Niece's
face.
'...as an old woman. I can't flinch or get upset when people
refer to my “age”, it's just going to happen.'
Doris' eyes sharpened behind her outdated glasses, conveying
a strong sense of admiration and respect.
'There's that maturity again. You're a brave girl y'know?'
Maggie's plump face stretched into a warm smile,
accentuating her double-chin as it did so.
'I appreciate that Aunt Doris, thank you.'
From the table just a little ahead of the two false elderly
sisters, Maggie could see her new found Bingo friend Betty waving them over.
'Come now ladies, Agnes has been kind enough to provide the
first round!' Betty called, enthusiastically.
Maggie and Doris could both eye a circular tray of melon
balls waiting for them at their respective table, as a thin old woman with
stark white hair and a bright red jacket, who Maggie assumed was Agnes, beamed
proudly in their direction.
'So...' Doris turned to Maggie '...have you ever had a melon
ball before?'
'Well I've never been an old woman before....so no.'
The two began to laugh heartily, Maggie trying not to let
the sound of her undeniable granny cackle ruin the moment as they waddled
alongside one another towards their respective table. The other old women's
faces eagerly awaited Maggie's, and the aged girl recognized that a series of
introductions was to be in order. The thin old woman in the red jacket extended
her bony hand out to meet Maggie's plump one.
'You must be Margaret, it's
lovely to meet you dear, I'm Agnes. Doris has told us all so much about you.'
Much to her own amazement Maggie was actually enjoying
herself. The aged girl had been sat in the bingo hall amidst a small army of
elderly folk for around two and half hours and despite some early nervousness
and slight embarrassment at the prospect of herself actually playing a game of
Bingo in her current matronly old form, she really began to ease up as the
night went on. She had been fairly liberal with the alcohol, really allowing
herself to indulge and let go of her inhibitions for the night and the company
she was keeping seemed more than eager to support this stance with their steady
supply of granny catered booze. Beginning with Agnes, (the enviably slim and
feisty old woman in the red jacket) Elaine (a sweet-natured former housewife
who volunteers at the library) and then her Aunt Doris, Maggie's elderly new
posse of friends were taking turns buying rounds. Agnes had provided
melon-balls, Maggie's first, and certainly not her last regardless if she ever
changed back or not. The sweet, tangy flavor really hitting the spot for the
aged girl. She wondered privately to herself if this was part of the change,
that perhaps her taste in certain things had morphed along with her body.
She had been eating meat steadily for the last week and
large portions also, that was certainly different, that had to have been part
of whatever had happened to her. The scariest part was just how readily this
switch in appetite had occurred, and how little she really thought about it.
She had been a strict and vigilant vegetarian for years up until the change,
leaning towards vegan, and as if it was nothing that had all changed. She
didn't even feel guilty about it. She had no urge whatsoever to try again, to
try and keep to her old diet. She was a fat woman now though she thought, and
her rotund new body wants and needs for different things. She did ponder
though, her pink-nailed hand gently pressing against her soft stomach, she
could really do with eating some more vegetables again considering the size of
her new gut and the undeniable shake of cellulite in her thighs and backside
that forced her to waddle in her movements. This weight had been forced upon
her sure, but she certainly didn't need to add to it. The melon ball was tasty
regardless though, and wasn't so specifically 'for grannies' as the following
round of sherries that if she did ever get back to normal she wouldn't feel so
embarrassed in ordering one in celebration. The sherry was also to her liking.
After the third round, provided by her Aunt (more melon balls) she was well and
truly tipsy and it was an incredibly odd sensation for the aged girl.
Firstly she hadn't been even remotely drunk in a number of
months. Her insane workload having prevented her from attending any and all
social events for the last while. The last time she could remember being drunk
was for Billy's birthday a while back. The whole thing had been an awkward and
difficult affair really. She had sat there impatiently all night in the bar as
the rest of Billy's friends chattered on around her. She was in no mood for it
that night, was eager to leave and was plainly and clearly not enjoying
herself. It was around this time that things concerning college, graduation and
her future career in the fashion industry began to really disturb everything
else in her life. She was always a stress head of course, but with everything
seemingly coming to an end and with adult life just around the corner, it had
all began to take a serious toll on the young blonde. Billy had turned 23, him
being just a bit younger than Maggie, and despite her having readily agreed to
come along and was really genuinely excited about spending some well-needed
quality fun-time together with Billy on his birthday, her forever worrisome and
goal oriented mind had possessed her thinking entirely before leaving his flat
and it had been showing.
Billy as always had been the center of attention, and was
holding his gathering of friends in conversation and stories with such ease
that it had actually bothered his onlooking girlfriend. Maggie didn't
understand how he managed it. She wasn't like him at all. Billy was laid-back
and light hearted, effortlessly confident and charismatic and to put it
plainly, Maggie was not. Maggie was charming enough of course, and was indeed
confident but in a very different manner from the talkative, warm and energetic
confidence of her boyfriend. Hers was a stern and sort of reserved confidence,
a tough and at times a little cold kind of strength and was never one to be
showy like Billy could be. When she was younger (as in teenager) she had really
given the whole 'party girl' thing a go, but it wasn't something she could
maintain for all that long. It was never her. Sitting among the loud and random
conversations that did nothing but add to her annoyance and make her compulsion
to be at home working that much worse.
She and Billy had argued that night. They were both fairly
drunk and their bickering in the back of the cab on the way home (Billy having
noticed her reluctance earlier and attributing it to rudeness) had turned into
a full blown argument by the time they got back to his place. It was one of
those fights that start off small, over something trivial and just gradually
escalate into something neither party ever expected to get into, all of the deeper
more long-held issues coming to the fore instead.
'But you just sat there looking pissed off the whole night.
Why?' He said, throwing his jacket on the couch, his voice pitching slightly in
places as he got more irritated.
'I wasn't pissed off but what do you want me to do? Have a
smile plastered on my face constantly? What are you asking of me here?'
Maggie's response was less emotional than Billy's, and she
had this unintentional way of making it sound as if she was talking to down to
people in these sort of situations. No matter what the issue, her demeanor
always exuded an air of flippancy and boredom...as if the very conversation was
nothing more than irritating. Billy had been on the receiving end of such
Maggie moments before, and while he was used to it he couldn't help but feel
like some dumb kid when she acted this way.
'Of course not...' he said, trying to keep himself calm
'...but everyone was just trying to have a good time and you were sitting there
acting standoffish. I don't think its unfair of me to say that it's rude
Maggie. I mean you barely spoke to anyone. John actually came over and asked me
if we had had an argument or something.'
'It's not rude Billy. I don't have to talk if I don't want
to. I've got a lot on my plate right now, you know that, and I really don't
appreciate the fact that your friends are asking inappropriate questions like
that.'
'You mean our friends. John is our friend. I met him through
you, or have you forgotten you actually had a social circle at one point?'
'Oh shut up Billy, go to sleep you're drunk.'
Maggie threw herself down on the couch and kicked her heels
off, her back turned to Billy.
'Oh so you're done are you?'
The pretty blonde spun around fast, glaring up at him.
'Why do you want to keep this going? Are you just looking to
start a big argument?'
'No, I don't. I'm just trying to talk to you but you're
being difficult, as usual. I don't give a fuck what John or whoever thinks
Maggie, do you not see that I'm worried about you?'
'Worried? Why?'
'I know what you're like and I can see you getting more and
more stressed with all of the college stuff. I just don't want you to let it
get the better of you. I don't want it to mess with us. We've been through all
this before.'
There was a silence. Maggie looked up at Billy with her big
blue eyes. He stood there, down to just a t-shirt, not sure where to look.
Maggie turned her back again, sighing.
'Yeah...I know. It's fine, honestly. There's nothing to
worry about. Now just go to bed, I'll catch up with you in a bit.'
Billy didn't say anything, he wanted to but she was
practically a wall when she got like this. Maggie had stared at the blank wall
ahead of her as she heard Billy make his way through to the bedroom. He was
right, they both knew it. She already knew she was going to let him down. The
stress and drama of a young, drunk couple on a night out airing grievances with
one another was a far, far cry from her current experience however. Billy, the
city, the version of herself that didn't need to rub ointment into her joints
at night and could walk up a flight of steep stairs without sweating or feeling
her hip twinge, they all felt so far away. She was looking back on a moment
from just a few months ago as if it were decades passed. Maybe it was just
another weird quirk of her elderly new form.
It was such a contrasting and alien environment, the bingo
hall, compared to all of that. Its warm colors, easy going and cozy atmosphere,
its soft and comfortable patrons. The couples here, all old married types, were
so far passed the drama. They were content and safe with each other. Maggie
couldn't help but feel a warm feeling in her fat stomach when she saw the
elderly couples laughing it up and cuddling into one another at some of the
tables. She couldn't help but wonder, herself already having skipped ahead a
good forty-something years, what her and Billy might be like if they ever
reached that point together. The idea of growing old with another person had
never really crossed her mind. Now here she was, already there. A decade or
four too soon.
The thought did strike her as she looked around the room
through her tipsy eyes and clunky glasses, surveying the elderly men that
peppered the hall (as it was mainly dominated by women much like herself), that
if she ended up stuck this way would she ever consider finding another
companion? Some of the old men even looked at her back with a slight nod which
gave her the real creeps. One chubby guy with a thick mustache and a pair of
glasses that rivaled her own in their dumpiness even winking at her. The
thought grossed her out to no end. She had been with Billy for a little over
two years now, or was, she wasn't sure what the status of their relationship
was at that moment in time, but meeting anyone new would have been strange for
her...now realizing that the only possible contenders were all 50 + was quite
the realization. The added notice that given her estimations that she was in
her late sixties, a man in his 50's would more than likely see her as more than
a bit 'too old'. She didn't dwell on this too much though. She'd much rather
just not have sex than force herself alongside some unassuming old man who she
would be unfairly grossed out by on a constant basis. She would compensate by
drinking melon-balls everyday, she joked to herself. There was a new love she
could get behind.
Being as tipsy as she was made her feel less concerned with
the general frumpiness of her old body. The whole week past, everything still
being so new and frightening, Maggie had had a hard time really separating
herself from the new elderly little sensations of her aged self. She could move
around easier than she had in the beginning, was used to it slightly but it was
always on her mind. Now though, as she sat there beside her Aunt Doris laughing
it up with the rest of the grannies, it didn't enter her thoughts at all. It
seemed less alien, less like feeling as if she were wearing a fat suit or had
been weighted down and more like...it was a weight she had been carrying for years,
grown into naturally.
It might have been the melon balls and sherries that were
coursing through her matronly old body, but the general atmosphere of her
table, of the whole bingo hall was one of real warmth and levity. The small
group of old ladies that she belonged to this night were much to the aged
girl's liking, subverting her expectations greatly. It wasn't as if she had
come into this whole bingo scenario thinking she'd particularly dislike any of
these elderly women. Knowing herself and her own sensibilities though and
knowing that despite how she may appear she was still forty-plus years their
junior and from an entirely different generation, it was fair for Maggie to not
expect very much in the way of camaraderie or even decent, mutual conversation.
She had barely held her own at the salon earlier in the day and she had worried
herself half to death wondering what would be 'appropriate' to say, or
wondering if she should adjust her dialogue any to save a contemporary,
entirely strange word for a woman pushing seventy to utter from escaping her
lips and weirding the bingo ladies out. But to her surprise after the initial
introductions it didn't take very long for her to start really engaging with
these women.
She noticed first off that Agnes was easily the most
glamorous and trim looking of the bunch. Not to say she didn't have sagging
skin and an obvious paunch, but compared to the general matronly girth of
Maggie and the other women at the table Agnes was actually far closer to
Maggie's more youthful figure. This bothered the aged girl to no end. Much in
the same way she had felt about her mother's svelte physique, despite how
accustomed to her fattened body she had become there was just no getting around
how strange it was for her to find herself wishing for a figure like that of
her own mother or this seventy something year old woman. Agnes also dressed a
little better than the rest of them, and Maggie's fashion conscious eye picked
up on this almost immediately. The red jacket looked more youthful, but
tasteful than any of the dumpy old garments the rest of them were wearing,
although Maggie did privately sort of think she managed to make herself look
fairly classy and nice with the little options she had. The two had began to
chat away about fashion almost instantly, and Doris looked on quietly with a
sweet and content look as Maggie came further out of her shell throughout the
night. With each subsequent drink the aged girl got more and more relaxed,
until at some point later in the night any on-looker would never possibly know
that Maggie wasn't a long-time member of this little elderly friend group. She
was cackling away with the rest of them, her plump cheeks red and full with
laughter as Betty recounted funny old stories of her late husband's antics. She
fanned herself in a grandmotherly gesture as the room heated up, and when she
took off her white jacket she winced slightly as she saw her new now very
appropriately named bingo wings jiggle and sway with each movement. Quickly
taking a look around her table and the room however, bar Agnes who kept her
stylish jacket on, she was no more wobbly and saggy than any of the other old
women there who all had the unmistakable mark of aged cellulite also. Maggie
felt slightly better when she realized this and felt more...comfortable...in
her plump old skin than she had all week.
As the night progressed Maggie actually found herself
getting into the game a little bit too. Focusing on the numbers as they rolled
out was an easy way of keeping her mind from drifting back into negative
thinking. The night was all about letting go and having fun, so she might as
well pay attention to the game itself. The bingo caller was a cheesy looking
man in his 40's with a bad suit and an even worse dye job. He would read out
the words with a forced humor and make cringe-worthy jokes in between, his
microphone buzzing and muffling his voice ever so slightly. Maggie would
sharpen her eyes down to the bottom of the hall where this man stood, adjust
her glasses and turn her grayed head to hear slightly better as he read out the
numbers. Her liver-spotted hand grasping hold of her red bingo marker and
carefully blotting the numbers as they were called.
'I wish that guy would quit the jokes, they're pretty distracting'
Maggie said, taking the last swig of her drink and absent-mindedly scratching
the sagging flab of her arm with her pink nails.
'Oh hush now Margaret, you can't speak ill of Jimmy' Betty
said, joking.
'His name's Jimmy?' she asked, a slight drunken slur in her
matured voice.
The aged girl's Aunt patted her gently on the back and
smiled coyly.
'The ladies all have a bit of a crush on him honey...Betty
can't go a bingo night without fanning herself over the poor young man'
'Oh don't pretend you're so innocent just because your
sister's here Doris. It's not like you've not gotten a little hot and bothered
for him either now is it?' Betty joked 'What do you think Margaret, he's a
cutie isn't he?'
Maggie took a second look at the bingo-caller. His hair was
cartoonishly black and his suit looked cheap. Being easily double her actual
age Maggie literally scoffed aloud as she eyed him up and down. She corrected
herself slightly, not meaning to offend the grannies at the table, disguising
her disgust as a cough.
'I uh...think he's a bit to young for me' she said, sarcasm
dripping from her words.
'Well we may be old but we're still alive am I right ladies?
I for one would love to have a nice get together with a man who doesn't need
supplements in order to do the deed.' Agnes replied, a cheeky smile strewn
across her wrinkled face.
'Ooh throwing the hubby under the bus once again I see
Agnes, what's he done this time?' Elaine replied.
'It's nothing. It can just get a little frustrating at
times. I may be 72 but I don't always feel it.'
'I certainly do.' Betty said, fanning herself with the heat.
Maggie kept her eyes to her bingo card, feeling a little bit
awkward joining a conversation on this specific topic. Agnes sighed as she
swirled her melon ball in her red-nailed hands, thinking.
'I mean I can't be the only one who forgets they're a
grandma from time to time surely? Last week I nearly took my back out doing the
garden, I'd forgotten to take my pills. Felt like only yesterday I was in all
sorts of crazy poses back when I did gymnastics. Long time ago now.'
Doris looked towards Maggie with her eyes fixed elsewhere,
knowing that this subject perhaps made her Grand Niece feel a tad
uncomfortable. She was about to try and change the subject when Maggie spoke
up.
'I know exactly what you're talking about...' Doris looked
to Maggie with some slight surprise as the aged girl continued '...I don't know
how many times recently that I've gotten out of my chair too fast and have done
something to my hip. I forget that I can't move as fast as I used to. That I
have to be more careful.'
'Oh I hear you dear. I try and go on walks to keep myself
trim you see and if I exert myself that bit too much it can really take it out
of me.' Agnes replied.
'Keeping trim at all is a bloody miracle' Elaine said, Betty
nodding in agreement 'I don't know how you do it Agnes. I wasn't a big woman at
all in my younger years, but after my fiftieth I just got bigger and bigger.
It's so much harder to maintain at our age.'
'I couldn't agree more.' Maggie said, nodding
enthusiastically 'The weight is just so sudden..' she stopped herself, getting
lost in her drunken rambling, '...the weight, can sometimes feel, like it's
just sudden. I was always trim when I was younger and now that I'm this weight,
I don't know how to lose it. I mean is it even possible when you're older?'
Doris looked at her Grand Niece with a slight concern as the
conversation persisted.
'Oh of course dear. Don't get me wrong it is far more
difficult than it might have been when we were young, but it's never too late.
You should come with me when I have my next walk. It'd be nice to have a
partner.' Agnes replied, a warm and friendly smile beaming from her face.
'I'd like that.' Maggie said with sincerity.
The conversation persisted in this manner for sometime
after, with Maggie finding it far easier to talk about some of the elderly
quirks that had been particularly bothering her so much over the last week with
these women. Whereas before the very idea of referencing how old and fat she
had gotten, conversations specific to her aching hip or her frumpy new frame
making her feel that bit more ancient, she instead felt a wave of relief
discussing it with the women in the know. Doris had remained fairly quiet
throughout however. Merely observing and seeing how well Maggie was holding up,
it shocked her just how comfortable the aged girl seemed to be holding the
discussion as she was. The group of grannies continued to laugh and joke about
their age and weight, Maggie even joining in here and there, less
self-conscious now, when Maggie realized that she no longer had a drink.
'My round next' she said, beginning to pick her heavy self
from the chair with a little difficulty, her hand positioned to support her
thickened hip as always.
'Don't be silly dear I'll get it...you're only a guest in
Easy Springs after all' Doris said.
'No no Au—Doris it's fine. Let me get this....melon balls or
sherries ladies?' she said, turning her attention to the rest of the table.
'Oooh make it another melon ball Margaret dear.'
'I'll second that.'
'I don't mind either way honey, your choice.'
Maggie chuckled slightly.
'Melon balls it is then. Back in a jiffy.'
The aged girl began laughing quietly under her breathe as she
waddled towards the bar a bit down from their table. 'A jiffy' she thought.
She's even starting to talk like an old lady. The young barmaid was around her
age (as in mid twenties) and had her long brown hair kept in a ponytail. Maggie
couldn't help but feel a bit strange as she approached the young woman. This
being the first girl her actual age she's encountered since the change a week
before. The barmaids breasts, as Maggie's once were, were pert and perky. The
aged girl looked down at her impressive but matronly bosom in comparison, and
also couldn't help but place her hand on her sagging paunch as she eyed up the
young woman's skinny, flat stomach. As she approached, her conservative, low
heels sinking into the plush carpet, the young woman behind the bar smiled with
a real enthusiasm that Maggie herself had never possessed when she worked at
Shelley's. She had despised that job, and despised most of the patrons. Usually
loud and obnoxious students that were a little too grabby for her liking. This girl
on the other hand seemed to be genuine in her politeness. Maybe old people tip
well, Maggie thought to herself.
'Hi there ma’am what can I get for you?' the young barmaid
asked, her youthful skin and tasteful makeup not unlike Maggie's would have
worn making the aged girl stare just a little too long in a slight bewilderment
before replying.
'Oh sorry, I uh, got a little distracted there' Maggie said
trying to gather her senses.
The girl laughed.
'Oh don't worry about it, I completely understand.'
'She probably thought I just had a 'senior moment' Maggie
thought to herself, shuddering at the thought.
'I would like five melon balls please.'
'Of course, I'll be right with you.'
'Oh thank you dear'
Maggie shook her head a little in light surprise. She just
called the girl 'dear' and meant it. She clearly had been allowing her
overwhelmingly granny-esque surroundings and atmosphere to make influence her.
As long as she didn't keep that up back at the house in private, she thought,
it wasn't too bad. Made sense for old Margaret Barnes to talk like the rest of
the old grandma's around Easy Springs. Maggie began to fiddle around with her
over-sized purse as the barmaid got to work on the drinks looking for the
money. As she fussed with it slightly, her old eyes squinting to see more
clearly, Maggie noticed something strange. The picture on her driver's license
didn't look right. Maggie kept her normal wallet contents of her youthful self
in her mammoth granny purse just in case. She pulled the card out and held it
closer to the light, adjusting her glasses as her eyes widened in horror at
what it read.
Name: Margaret Barnes
Date of Birth: July/20/1949
The photo was of her. The old her. The fat and grandmotherly
her that she was now. The date of birth would make her 67 years old. She threw
it back in the bag quickly and began to frantically pull out more of the bag's
contents. There was a senior bus pass with the same information. Her credit
card read 'Mrs. Margaret Barnes', and she even found an AARP card in there.
Maggie, still tipsy of course, was finding all of this oddity incredibly hard
to process. She raised her chubby hand gently to her face in shock, staring
down at the senior bus pass in her other hand, the photo posed exactly the same
as it had before, but now plump and elderly.
'That'll be 22 dollars ma'am' the barmaid said, cutting
through her moment.
Maggie was still in a daze.
'Uh yes honey, here' she said, handing over 25 dollars and
telling the young woman to keep the change.
She placed the bus pass back in her bag and looked back at
her elderly new friends a little away from her. Betty waved when they made eye
contact. She could feel it somewhere inside of her. This was the clincher.
Whatever this was, this latest development was serious and terrifying and it
made Maggie feel like the possibility of returning to her normal self was now
an impossibility. The Witch's magic clearly still had work to do and now Maggie
began to seriously worry that other aspects of her reality would begin to
change. Was this just to make things easier for her living as Margaret Barnes?
Or was this the smaller part of a much larger shift? Would all traces of Maggie
cease to exist soon and be replaced with the elderly Margaret? What if her
mother and Aunt forget she was ever Maggie? All of these horrific possibilities
came rushing into the poor girl's aged mind. She didn't emote any of this out
loud as she awkwardly walked back across the hall with the tray of drinks held
in her plump hands. Maggie looked out at the rest of the patrons in the place
as she softly waddled back. Grannies and Grandpa's. Retirees. Senior Citizens.
With this new change it seemed to really seal her fate. She fought back tears
as she knew, she was one of them now. For good. This was her existence. A fat
old bingo lady. Doris turned and saw the odd, vacant look on her Grand Niece's
face that the others did not as Maggie returned to the table and began to hand
out the drinks before sitting her fat rump back in the chair. The other three
women chatted away, only Doris sensing the quiet and unease that had overtook
her grand niece. Maggie could feel Doris' concerned eyes on her but she didn't
want to address her this latest discovery until they got back to the house.
There was simply too much to unpack. Instead, Maggie picked up her bingo marker
and continued to play the game. Staring down at the card and then back up at
Jimmy the bingo-caller further down the hall, as she felt she would be doing
every week for the rest of her elderly new life.
___________________________________________________________________________________
There was an awkward tension as the two pretend elderly
sisters waddled back inside Doris' home, the flabby, dangling skin of their
upper arms jiggling frantically as they each turned to wave goodbye to Betty as
she walked back to her home.
'It was a great night ladies, hope to see you there next
week Margaret!' she had said, the elderly 23 year old smiling somewhat sadly in
response as her new friend walked off down the street.
'I'm sure you will' she muttered under her breath.
Maggie shut the front door and entered the living room as
Doris made her way through to the kitchen.
'I was thinking maybe a pot of tea before bed Maggie?' the
old woman shouted into the other room, already pulling cups from her cabinet,
knowing full well her grand Niece's new habits and that she wouldn't pass up a
fresh cup of tea.
'Sure' the aged girl replied 'just the one though....it's
getting pretty late'
Maggie sighed as she heard herself. 'Pretty late.' She
stared at the clock above the fireplace as she rested her plump hand on her
wide hip. It was barely scraping 9:30, hardly late for a go-getting 23 year
old. She used to be able to stay up to unreasonable times for all sorts of
occasions. Whenever she did indulge herself before and let herself really party
she could keep up with just about anyone else, keeping the festivities going
for as long as she they were allowed. More recently and most often, Maggie
stayed up incredibly late for work and study purposes. It wasn't uncommon for
the workaholic young woman to finish one of her late shifts at Shelley's bar
until close at midnight, then spend the next three or four hours studying and
researching either at home or at the library, and then do it all again the next
day. Now, her elderly joints truly needed the rest. A few hours up and about,
drinking, walking back and forward from the Bingo Hall. She wasn't in any pain
at all, but much to her own disdain she knew her matronly old body better than
ever, and understood that if she were to lie down in her chair she'd doze off,
and she couldn't risk that because she still needed to rub her ointment into
her joints to prevent them from playing up when she woke as she did, every
night. In her new found old age she had fallen into quite a routine. She kicked
herself for being so in tune with this new body, she had been trying to fight
its urges and wants since the change but she couldn't put it off for any
longer. Her body was that of a 67 year old's and it needed and required so much
more than her young, fit body of just a week ago. There was no point in
pretending otherwise she thought.
She placed her oversize white purse, and the white shawl she
had under her thick, soft arm on the little table beside her chair. The
distinctive marks of her elderly girth were apparent from her constant resting,
and sighing just slightly as she did so, Maggie grunted ever so slightly as she
lowered her generous fat behind into her beloved chair. She kicked off her
white open toed low-heels and, with them already strategically placed for convenience,
as she had done the last few days with little thought, slipped her puffy,
cankle-topped feet into a pair of fluffy, soft and deliciously comfortable pink
slippers that to the recent 67 year old felt like a small heaven. Maggie sighed
again only this time in elation, a content smile across her round, jowly face.
She couldn't argue with that feeling, it was something that she didn't ever
experience when she was her younger self, but when your bones creak and your
thighs swing with cellulite all day, the ability to relax and do nothing is so
much more rewarding.
Doris came through a moment later with a cup of tea in each
hand. She bent over the sitting Maggie, her drooping breasts swinging slightly
with the force of gravity, as she placed the cup of tea beside Maggie's white
purse, before she made her way to her own chair of comfort. She too had a pair
of slippers at the ready for when she sat down. Doris had taught Maggie this
early on, that when you're an older woman getting up is a bit more difficult,
and to save you the time of having to seek out necessarily comfortable
footwear, it's best to have them there at the ready, at the foot of your
favorite chair. It was a tip that Maggie had made great use of spending most of
her time in said slippers.
Maggie was tempted to put the reclining option on but she
knew that if she did so she'd be snoring and fully asleep in no time, and she
couldn't risk forgoing her ointment again. Doris left a mark of lipstick on her
cup as she took a sip, she then looked over at her transformed Grand Niece,
looking eerily comfortable and natural as the plump old grandma she had been
morphed into.
'So...' Doris started, and keeping Maggie from dozing off
'...what did you make of that then dear?'
'The bingo?'
'Yes, you seemed to really enjoy yourself.'
'As a matter of fact I did. I have to admit I wasn't
expecting to. It's a lot more fun than it looks I can say that.'
'The ladies really enjoyed your company too. I think they'd
really like to spend more time with you, they love new people.'
'I'd like that. They were really great. Again, I wasn't
expecting it. I didn't think I would have anything in common with them to tell
you truth, but I suppose...I have a lot in common with them now.'
Maggie placed her hands on her soft, blubbery gut as she
said this, a slight sad resignation taking over her face as she very gently
patted the round stomach. Doris noticed this.
'Is there something you want to tell me dear?'
Maggie's eyes perked up from behind her glasses. Doris was
no fool, she knew there was something to tell.
'You got a bit quieter when you came back from the bar...'
Doris continued '...was it maybe speaking to that young girl behind the bar?
Was that difficult? Stop me if you don't want to talk about it sweetheart, I
don't want to press you.'
'It's not that' Maggie said, shaking her round head and
sitting up ever so slightly to take a sip of her tea.
'I mean...yeah...seeing someone my age...my actual age, was
a bit strange. But it's something else.'
A look of concern grew across Doris' face, she sat up
further too in anticipation.
'What is it then Maggie?'
Maggie looked into Doris' similarly wrinkled, old eyes and
sighed heavily as she felt the emotions inside her begin to build up. As her
eyes began to tear up ever so slightly Maggie reached into her big white purse
and pulled out its strange, frightening contents.
'Here...' she said, her voice shaky with feeling as she
threw each of them onto the large table that sat between the two of them.
Doris stretched out of her seat and stood, reaching down
with her sharp red nails each of the cards with the other hand supporting her
wide back. She pushed her glasses closer to her face as she looked intently at
Maggie's driver licence, or more accurately now, Margaret's driver's licence.
Her confused old eyes scanned each card thoroughly, picking up on the morphed
photo, the new date of birth, the AARP card and the Senior Citizen's Bus Pass.
She was struggling to find the words.
'I..I don't understand' she said, looking back at Maggie
'..where did these come from?'
'They were just in the bag' Maggie replied.
'But...but...' Doris closed her eyes tightly, trying to
think 'but...this is impossible.'
'Is it?' Maggie asked, the tears visibly streaming now.
'With everything that's happened to me...this is nothing'
she continued 'its that Witch and her magic or whatever the hell she did to
me.'
'But why would she do this?' Doris asked.
'To make it easier for me maybe. To make it more complete.
To finalize it. So that I'm reminded that I'm not....me anymore...that I'm an
old woman now, I'm Margaret Barnes and I'm going to be stuck this way for the
rest of my life.'
The aged girl burst into tears, her plump, pink-nailed hands
covering her wrinkled face as her Great Aunt waddled over to her as quickly as
her thick legs would allow her. As on that first night, Doris stood beside
Maggie and stroked her newly white-blonde hair lovingly, cuddling into her and
trying to reassure her that she'd be OK, but she knew it wouldn't.
'Maggie sweetheart look at me' it took a second but Maggie
did look at Doris, her poor old face reddened with tears.
'I know this is difficult. Beyond difficult in fact. I know
that what you're going through is maddening and unbelievable and I know that
you're going to want to give up at some point. You're going to want to cave in
to all of this misery and you're going to want to let it all go, and that is
understandable. But listen to me now...there is no stronger woman I know than
you. You have endured so much in your life, and so much of it in this last week
alone....'
Maggie continued to sob as Doris continued.
'….I need you to be as strong as you have been now. I know
it's a lot to ask, I know that you shouldn't have to put up with this anymore
but I am begging you to hold on. For me, for your mom, for your little sister.
We all love you and we all need you. I can't promise you that things will get
better anymore darling. I wish I could but I can't. But I can promise that if
this is really how things will be from now on, then I will do everything in my
power to make your life as fulfilling as it possibly can be. This is not the
end Maggie. You can have a life. I promise.'
Doris held the crying Maggie
close to her, hoping that through all of her sadness and tears she was able to
really hear her. While Maggie couldn't express it at that moment, she had heard
her. She understood, and her Great Aunt was right. She wasn't going to kid
herself clinging onto the hope that she'd return to normal ever again. This was
it now. The soap-operas, the bingo, the tea, the achy joints, the belly, the
sagging boobs, the snoring in her chair at 9 o’clock in a pair of pink
slippers...this was going to be her life from now on. She had to accept that,
but she wasn't going to accept defeat. Doris was right. She was stronger than
most, she had endured a lot, and if this was to be her fate then so be it.
She'd make the best of it. She knew it would be difficult. She knew there would
be ups and downs, but she had to try. She just had to try.
Julie was trying her hardest not to show it but she was
nervous. She sat there in the car outside her Aunt's house in Easy Springs just
waiting there with a real sense of unease. Julie's eyes darted between the
front door of her Aunt's home, framed neatly by her perfectly kept little
garden and her own car mirror, where she would fix her silky dark hair and make
sure her tasteful makeup was on point in her anxiety. She sighed deeply to
herself, her slim, feminine fingers still gripping the steering-wheel as the
car continued to hum. She hated feeling this way, over seeing her daughter no
less, but with all that had happened in just a little over a week Julie was
really struggling to hold it all together. She knew that having Maggie stay
with her Great Aunt in Easy Springs until she got better was for the best, but
she missed her daughter dearly. And she also worried that on some level Maggie
would think she abandoned her, left her to deal with this insanity all by
herself while she took care of Ashley. She wanted to be by her side and with
her every step of the way as any mother would of course, but with a nine year
old that's just finished school for the summer and a full time job to contend
with that just wasn't possible. That didn’t stop her feeling guilty however,
and she could sense her aged daughter growing more and more distant with her in
their nightly phone calls. Maggie's newly croaky, old voice sounding less like
her original young self with every conversation, and it broke Julie's heart to
hear her like that. At this point it felt like they didn't know what exactly to
say to one another anymore. There hadn't been any new developments on either
end as far as she was aware, and her consistent promises to her daughter that
she would reverse this mess, fix it and get her back to normal were sounding
more desperate, and less plausible each time, she could always hear the lack of
faith in Maggie's matured voice.
With all of this going on Julie had been looking for any
opportunity to see her daughter in the dimpled, wrinkled flesh. So with Ashley
away at a slumber party for the night, Julie jumped at the chance to spend some
quality time with the transformed Maggie. She had originally planned on just
coming up to Easy Springs and spending the night, but after hearing Maggie
recount getting her haircut at a salon and joining her Great Aunt for a game of
Bingo of all things, Julie decided that if Maggie was getting more comfortable
interacting with the wider world in her current condition they should get some
quality mother-daughter time away from it all. With that, Julie had booked them
a table at a fancy Italian restaurant called Aberto's a few miles away from
Easy Springs. It would be a nice treat and relief for the two of them, and give
the estranged mother and daughter a real opportunity to talk and reconnect. It
was also far enough away that there was very little chance of them running into
anyone they knew.
Maggie had been a little hesitant about it on the phone when
Julie had suggested it but with a little persuasion she eventually agreed.
Julie chalked this reluctance up to her daughter feeling irritated with her
somehow, as fine-dining in an Italian restaurant was surely a more enticing
offer than a night at the bingo she thought. The very idea of her cool,
generally cynical and aloof young daughter playing that game in a hot room with
a group of old ladies simultaneously ridiculous, and with the reality of
Maggie's condition, horrifying. The cutesy, quaint and comfortable world of
grannydom that her Aunt operated in just being so diametrically opposed to that
of her daughter's that to think of Maggie behaving so differently, with the way
she was currently, was truly disturbing for the worrisome mother.
These thoughts were interrupted when Julie spotted the front
door of her Aunt's home slowly open from the corner of her eye. Doris came out
first and waved her big fat, bingo wing exposed arm at Julie from the door,
Julie returning a much smaller wave and awkward smile. She could then see Doris
step aside for Maggie, and what Julie saw made the mother of the aged girl
deeply shudder. She of course had expected Maggie to look different from the
last time she had seen her. The last time the fattened Maggie had been stuffed
into an ill-fitting sweat-suit of hers that looked comical, but she had heard
that Maggie was now wearing glasses, had had her straw like hair cut and dyed
into some more befitting an older woman, and had also fully taken to wearing
the far more age appropriate clothing as borrowed and purchased from her Aunt
Doris, but seeing it all in the flesh was a far different experience than
simply imagining it. Maybe part of her had tried to suppress just how dramatic
the change had been in the first place, because Julie was taken a back at just
how old Maggie looked. Not just old, but grandmotherly. Looking so much like
her own mother, Maggie's namesake. Julie was doing everything in her power not
to allow her well-proportioned, slim jaw to drop in shock as her aged daughter
said her goodbyes to Doris and began meekly making her way towards the car.
Maggie was wearing what looked like formal wear. A dark red,
patterned dress that did nothing to hide her significant new weight. If
anything, the dress curved and bunched in such a way as to exaggerate certain
flabby portions of the aged girl's body, such as her soft stomach and thick
hips. Julie could only assume also that her daughter's newly wide posterior was
similarly emphasized by the garment from the back. She also wore a black shawl across
her round shoulders as well as a black, half-sleeved jacket, decorated with a
pearl necklace and two pearl bracelets on each chubby wrist. Bottomed off by a
pair of clunky looking low heels in black and what was undoubtedly support hose
encasing her thick, fat legs. Julie in mild shock realized that her poor
daughter would also be forced to wear similarly granny-specific, matronly
undergarments like large plain panties and an under wire bra underneath that
outdated, gaudy looking dress, and Maggie's granny glasses were decorated with
a sensible gold chain. All of this was just so uniformly un-Maggie that it made
Julie feel physically ill. She didn't know how to react as the aged girl
plodded up the garden path, waddling slightly, and in a bid to not offend or
upset her daughter with how disturbed she was actually had to look away as
Maggie opened the passenger side door and lowered her flabby backside into the
seat.
Maggie shuffled in her seat slightly trying to get her far
bigger, rounder self comfortable, making awkward huffing noises as she
eventually managed to secure the seat-belt around her, it cutting into the soft
flesh of her matronly body just a smidge before she readjusted. Julie grimaced
privately as she watched her daughter sigh with relief as her bulging stomach
was set free from the seatbelt's grip. Finally secured, Julie turned slowly and
despite every ounce of her wanting to scream or cry or faint actually managed
to face her daughter. Maggie looked back at her through her chained glasses, a
slightly grumpy, distinctly grandmotherly expression of concern on her face.
'Everything alright mom?' she asked with a slight sternness.
Julie smiled as warmly as she was able to and tried to
speak.
'Yeah...' she started '...just good to see you is all
sweetheart. I know it's just been a little over a week but it feels like so
much longer.'
Maggie nodded, her double-chin more apparent.
'Yeah it does...' she replied in her raspy new voice
'...it's good to see you too.'
There was a pause. An awkward silence gripping the car.
'Should uh...' Maggie croaked '...should we maybe get
going?'
Julie laughed nervously in response and nodded her head
awkwardly, her well kept black hair bobbing slightly with the movement.
'Of course honey, just spaced out there for a second. Been a
long day. Do you want to get back for a certain time or--?
'Well yeah. If we can get back for maybe 6:30 that'd be
ideal. Gives me sometime to unwind a little before I get to sleep.'
'At 6:30?'
'Yeah...I've been going to bed a bit earlier as of late.'
'You have?'
'It just makes it a bit easier--'
'Say no more honey, I understand.'
Julie flashed her pearly teeth at Maggie once more in a poor
attempt at keeping things normal, and then gulped as she pressed her stylish cream
heel against the pedal and drove off down the road heading out of Easy Springs.
Maggie was sharply aware of her mother's awkward, nervous behavior and it
didn't make the aged girl feel similarly awkward so much as just irritated. She
knew that she had so much to tell her mother over dinner, about the recent
discovery at the Bingo a few days before, about her belief that the change was
permanent and any hope of her returning to her youthful self was a lost cause,
and she knew that Julie would not take any of it well in the slightest. She was
half worried her mother would make a scene of sorts at the restaurant, and she
half considered maybe leaving the revelations until they returned to Easy
Springs. After everything she had been through though, Maggie really just felt
tired. She didn't want to have to drain herself emotionally once again as she
had done repeatedly, she was sort of passed that now having sobbed plenty the
past week and a half both privately and on her Aunt Doris' shoulder. Maggie
still had so much to figure out moving forward and this irritation at her
mother stemmed from her being a little behind on all that had transpired for
Maggie over the last while. Julie had only seen her that first day, she hadn't
been there for the aching hips, the first pair of granny panties and on some
level she did resent her mother slightly for leaving Easy Springs as soon as
she did. Maggie knew that it was her who rushed her out the door that first
night, but she was hardly in her right mind at the time and bar the phone-calls
Julie was only visiting now, over a week after the fact.
As Julie got them out of Easy Springs Maggie tried to
suppress this sort of negative thinking. Her mother had a lot to deal with too.
She was still trying to process all that had happened and also had Ashley to
think about, she had to be empathetic to that. The irritation wasn't Julie's
fault really, Maggie realized. She just truly hated the fact that she was going
to have to go through the motions of having to openly seal her own fate again.
That she would have to hurt her mother deeply and break her hope and tell her
that the matronly old grandma sitting across from her would be her daughter
from now on. She didn't know how to communicate that, and she certainly didn't
want to. Maggie was also slightly hesitant about getting dressed up and having
to venture out of Easy Springs. In her new old-age she found that it was a lot
of work, and truly, as much as it bothered her to admit to herself, all Maggie
really wanted to do at that moment in time was to go back to Doris' and sit in
her chair reclined, get her slippers on, have a cup of tea and watch her
'shows' as she had taken to calling them. The sad realization in the aged
girl's mind that she had fallen into the same routine as her elderly Aunt being
something she just couldn't deny anymore.
'This place is supposed to be great' Julie said, trying to
start conversation, 'The girls in my work have raved about the place.'
'I'm looking forward to it' Maggie replied, her old,
bespectacled eyes staring out the window trying and failing to not look so
tired and disinterested.
She looked over to her mother, whose attention was firmly on
the road, more than likely because she didn't want to have to glance at her
frumpy, elderly daughter. She was so beautiful and youthful, Maggie thought to
herself. She had never really noticed that about her mother before, but Julie
was truly a stunning woman, and at 44 didn't look a day over 35. Any wrinkles
were faint and distinguished, her waist was curvy, sexy. If she didn't know any
better in fact it would have seemed she had never had multiple children.
Maggie's stomach on the other hand, as soft, stretch-marked and saggy as it was
made the aged girl look as grandmotherly and matriarchal as she could be, and
looked like it she had at least four children. She couldn't believe she envied
her. It was so unnatural.
'They're going to think I'm your mother' Maggie said rather
curtly.
'What's that?'
'I said they're going to think I'm your mother. At the restaurant.'
There was a pause. Julie choked up, not knowing quite how to
respond.
'Not...not necessarily honey...'
'No they will. We still look related. It just donned on me,
but I can't call you “mom”...it'd be weird.'
'I...hadn't really thought about it.'
'I know it's super weird and everything mom but when we get
there I'm going to have call you “Julie”. I don't really want to risk getting
funny looks from people there. The whole thing is strange enough as it is.'
'I....' Julie didn't know how to reply to that. Maggie was
right, it would be strange, but seeing the line of logic Maggie was working
with a certain motherly sternness took hold of her, 'Before you even think
about saying it Maggie, I am not calling you “mom” understand?'
Maggie pushed her glasses more securely on her jowly face.
'Me neither.'
The background sounds of the restaurant, the gentle clinking
of cutlery against dishes, lively, laugh-filled conversation from other tables
and relaxing classical music that warmed the room managed to fill the awkward,
silent space between the dejected mother and daughter who sat opposite one
another, their eyes anywhere but each others. The ride to Aberto's had been
painful as both Maggie and Julie had anticipated, riddled with long bouts of uneasy
silences and poor attempts at conversation. It had felt like deja vu for the
two of them, a strange reminder of that first day a little over a week before
when they had first journeyed to Easy Springs. So much had changed since then,
so much that Julie had not been privy too. Maggie sat there in her comfortable
booth seat thinking about all that she might have to say to her mother over the
course of their meal and dreading her reaction. She had chosen the booth seat
herself, preemptively avoiding the standard tables as she could foresee her
large and soft behind, encased in the matronly red dress as borrowed from her
elderly Aunt a few sizes ago, pouring over the restaurant's rather flimsy
looking seats, and she'd rather not embarrass herself or her mother at this
fancy establishment. Not when everything felt so serious.
She didn't like how distant she felt with Julie at that
moment. With everything they had gone through together as a family they had
always been close, and Maggie had always looked to her mother as the one figure
she would allow herself to lean on. In her fierce independence and
stubbornness, Maggie found it difficult if not outright impossible to ask for
help from anyone. Whenever she had felt overwhelmed with college, with her
work, with anything, she never called on her friends or Billy or anyone else to
help relieve her of all that stress and difficulty. Her mother however was the
one exception. Maggie didn't allow herself to often, but when times were truly
tough for the determined and hard-working young woman, she would turn to her
mother, if only as a shoulder to cry and rest on. Julie was a role model for
her daughter, the kind of woman any go-getting young girl would aspire to be.
She had been dealt such hardship and trauma in her personal life and she had
still managed to raise two girls entirely alone, not to mention maintaining a
full-time, well paying career. All of her closest companions understood that in
Maggie's life, no-one was held higher than Julie. Now however, Maggie was at a
real loss. Her mother couldn't help her this time and had no means to. She had
tried of course, as Maggie had expected of her. Julie had spent the last week
and half “investigating” this incredible and terrifying phenomenon to the best
of her abilities and had found nothing. She could read it from her mother's
demeanour as they sat there in the restaurant, her eyes downcast and
uncharacteristically meek in her posture. Julie felt defeated. The exhausted
mother had spent her entire adult life raising and protecting her two daughters
with frightening proficiency, and now she was met with an insurmountable
obstacle in the form of Maggie's impossible transformation. She just didn't
know how to save her daughter from this cruel fate, and it was eating away at
her inside.
Maggie could really see the struggle and pain that emanated
from her mother in the restaurant, and the aged girl realized in that moment,
much to her own dismay, that she could no longer look to Julie as this
uncompromising figure of strength and resilience as she had done her entire
life. It wasn't fair really, Julie was only human. Maggie glimpsed down at her
distorted reflection in the spoon that sat by her plump, liver-spotted hand.
The white-blonde hair, the round face. Looking up and back at her downtrodden
and struggling mother, Maggie's mind was brought to her own grandmother, her
namesake, Margaret. How close she and Julie had been, how she had been the
pillar upon which Julie leaned in times of hardship, and how with her passing
it was Julie that took that responsibility from then on and ensured she'd be
that figure for her two daughters. Maggie turned to face the decorative mirror
that sat opposite their booth. She took in her own soft and wrinkled face, the
slight droop of jowls, the bags hidden just slightly behind her old-fashioned
glasses. Despite a few differences here and there, it was eerie just how
similar she and her grandmother looked. That aspect of the change in relation
to her mother hadn't really been processed by Maggie. She didn't think of it
until there, that when Julie looked to her fattened, aged daughter, she perhaps
saw her mother first. It was difficult for Maggie to understand exactly what to
do with that information. Should she address it? Should she just pretend it
wasn't a factor? Or, perhaps, if she was truly stuck this way forever as she
believed she was, maybe it was something to embrace. Maggie had thought about
this somewhat, especially with the two of them journeying out of Easy Springs
together, the fact that to on-lookers Maggie and Julie's relationship as mother
and daughter was reversed. It had scared and sickened her when she had
initially considered this, but now, seeing her mother so out of her element, so
unlike herself, she was beginning to feel differently about the whole thing.
Julie had been the strongest woman in Maggie's life for 23 years, and it was
clear she was tired. If she had to then, if this was to be her life from now
on, she felt it was only right to assume that same responsibility as her mother
had done all those years ago when her grandmother died. Maggie was strong,
stronger than most, she really knew this about herself and she had been dealt
what was perhaps the strangest and most debilitating hand a young woman with
her future in front of her could possibly ever receive and yet here she was,
still standing, still living, not insane. It wasn't that Maggie was planning to
act as her own mother's mother outright, of course not. The very idea was
ridiculous. She just understood on some level that Julie needed some rest from
care-taking, and needed someone to look out for her once in a while.
'Are you okay?'
'Huh?' Maggie was awakened from her deep thought by Julie's
quiet question.
'You looked a little elsewhere hon. Anything on your mind?'
Maggie pursed her wrinkled lips slightly as she allowed
herself to come back to the present moment.
'Just...the usual. I find myself drifting off into my own
head a lot these days'.
Julie smiled a little sadly.
'That makes a lot of sense.'
The waiter arrived a few moments to take their orders, the
two of them having already looked over the menus repeatedly in their
awkwardness.
'Good evening ladies and if you haven't been so already,
allow me to welcome you to Aberto's. Would you like to order now, or would you
like a few more minutes?'
'I'm ready to order' Maggie started 'Mo--' Maggie coughed
'Julie, are you ready?'
Julie looked solemnly into her daughter's wrinkled eyes,
obscured by the reflection of the candle flame against her grandmotherly
glasses. She then turned to the waiter.
'I'll have the Pasta Vegetalie for the starter please, and
just a sparkling water with that, I'm driving' Julie said.
Maggie hesitated slightly. Realising that her mother hadn't
been made aware of her significant change in appetite. The first of many
revelations, she thought to herself as she sighed and placed the menu down flat
on the table.
'Can I just order the Steak Pizzaiola as a main, with a
glass of sherry if you have it?'
'Of course ma’am will that be all?'
'That's all, thank you dear.'
The waiter collected their menus and left the mother and
daughter to their strange tension. Julie looked at Maggie with confusion,
Maggie was unable to meet her gaze.
'Um...Steak?'
'That's right.'
'Since when did you eat meat Maggie?'
Maggie sighed deeply and took a pink-nail to her temple.
'Since last week.'
'You mean since...the change?'
'That's right.'
'I don't understand, is this part of it?'
'I think so, yes.'
'And you didn't mention this to me why exactly?'
'I didn't want to alarm you. It didn't seem like a big deal
at the time.'
'Maggie everything is a big deal. If there’s any changes, no
matter how trivial you might think they are, they're important. You need to
tell me these things.'
'I know...it's just that--'
'And dear? You called him dear? What is that about?'
'Julie would you just keep your voice down?'
'Don't call me Julie. I am your mother.'
Maggie looked around her in a slight panic. No-one was
looking, no-one was paying attention. She was just so caught up in her anxiety.
The aged girl sighed deeply once again, before trying to appease her mother.
'I'm sorry, you're right. I'm just nervous is all, you have
to understand that.'
'Why should you be nervous with me? For goodness sake Maggie
I'm your mom. I know things aren't perfect right now but you should never feel
nervous with me. What's going on?'
'I don't know where to start really.'
Maggie could see Julie's bottom lip quiver slightly as she
spoke. Her mother was nearly bursting with emotion, with panic. She felt
horrible having to do this to her.
'Maggie you're scaring me, what is it?'
'I think...I think this is going to be it from now on.'
Maggie looked downward as she tended to do in these
difficult interactions, only instead of her feet she was met with the sight of
her bulging, matronly bosom, the curve of her jiggling stomach apparent also.
In that split second before she acknowledged her mother's reaction Maggie
thought about the reality of what she had just said. The sagging breasts that
slap against the crest of her fat stomach when she's changing or in the bath,
when they're not held in place by dumpy old granny bras built with added
support, those were the breasts she'd be dealing with from here on out. Those were
her breasts now and forever.
'What do you mean Maggie?'
Maggie looked up and met her mother's concerned, emotional
eyes.
'I mean...I think I'm going to be stuck this way forever.
There's no going back.'
There was a pause. Maggie could see the tears gradually
building in her mother's eyes.
'It's only been a little over a week, you don't know that'
she said, trying to keep it together.
Maggie's face was expressionless, a little numb as she
grabbed her large purse that lay at her court-shoed feet. Julie sat there
wiping tears from her eyes, doing her best to not unravel completely as Maggie
produced a series of items from the bag. She lay them on the table for her
mother to see, who picked them up frantically. The changed driver's licence,
the senior citizen's bus pass, the AARP card. Maggie watched as Julie flipped
through them, making strange almost choked noises as she tried to find the
words.
'They just showed up in my bag the other night when I was at
Bingo' Maggie said, 'Aunt Doris had the same reaction as you.'
'I...I don't understand...'
'I do' Maggie said rather defiantly, 'It means it's
over...mom. We can't keep kidding ourselves any longer. I'm never going to get
back to normal. This is normal now.'
The tears were rushing from Julie's face now, but the
distraught mother was doing her best not to make a scene. Not to cry out in
anguish despite every aspect of her wishing she could.
'You can't just give up like this...this isn't you' she
said, reaching her youthful, slim hand over the table to touch her daughter's
chubby, wrinkled one.
'I'm not giving up, I'm just being real. There's no point in
us pretending that things are going to get better for me. They're not. I think
we're lucky that this is all that's been changed. I mean whose to say you don't
wake up tomorrow and forget I was ever your daughter?'
'Maggie don't even say that, that's not going to happen.'
'We don't know that though. It might.'
Maggie felt exhausted as she spoke. Her old body struggling
to go through this emotional roller-coaster once more.
'You don't understand mom...' Maggie could feel her own aged
eyes swell with tears as she spoke '...I'm just so tired. Tired of fighting it.
This has been the longest week of my life, I just want to start get on with
living a life again, you know?'
'No I don't know. Get on with what life exactly Maggie? Life
as...as...some old woman? Is that what you're talking about?'
Maggie cast her eyes downward once more and sighed with
resignation.
'That's what I am.'
'No you're not.'
'Mom, look at me' a sternness took hold of her voice as she
spoke, 'Whatever happened to me, I am old now. 67 to be exact. A 67 year old
woman, can you believe it? You're daughter is a senior citizen.' In her
exhaustion and fatigue Maggie chuckled.
'I don't see how any of this is funny Maggie. You're not an
old woman, I don't care what you say. I don't care how you look.'
'It's not just how I look...it's how I feel. I feel old. I
feel 67. Do you know that I have to rub ointment into my joints every night?'
Julie's face was paralysed in slight horror.
'Every night I have to to do that' Maggie continued 'And I
get gassy sometimes too, don't have nearly as much control over that as I did
before, and my hip can get stiff, that's why I use the ointment. I need
glasses, sometimes people have to repeat sentences to me once or twice because
I can't hear as well as I used to. I am old.'
'Maggie Harris, stop this. You are 23 years old, you already
have a life. You're about to graduate in a few months, you have a bright future
ahead of you, you have friends, you have a boyfriend. Are you seriously just
going to abandon all of that? Give all of that up?'
'What choice do I have?'
Julie paused for a moment and tried to collect herself. She
breathed in deeply and lay her slim hands flat against the table in a bid for
composure. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a phone.
'I wasn't going to show you this until after we got back to
Doris' but you need to read this now.'
Julie handed the phone over to her aged daughter. It was
Maggie's phone. The aged girl held it in her plump hands and then squinted at
it awkwardly, her blurry eyes trying to adjust to the screen. Any on-lookers
seeing nothing out of the ordinary, just another old woman who doesn't know how
to work her phone. The sight of Maggie slightly struggling with the phone was
enough to make Julie turn her head away. Maggie's eyesight adjusting however,
she opened it up and was able to read a message that was already open. It was
from Billy. Before she began to read, Maggie lifted her head to look at her
mother.
'What is this?'
'Just read it please Maggie.'
Maggie looked down at the phone once again and looked at the
block of text from her estranged lover.
'Maggie...' it began '...I have no idea if you have any
access to your phone or not in the hospital or wherever it is they're keeping
you. I can only hope you get the chance to read this. I just wanted you to
know, I need you to know that I love you. We've been through so much together,
we've jumped over so many obstacles to get to where we are now in our
relationship and whatever this illness is, it's just one more. That's how I see
it, and I hope that's how you see it too. I know you hate this kind of lovey
dovey stuff, but I feel like we don't say it enough to one another. You mean
the world to me, and I'm so proud to know you and to call you my girlfriend. I
hope you know I'm with you no matter what babe. You'll get through whatever
this is. I know it. I'll see you when you get better. Don't give up. xxx'
Maggie was shaking and tearing up as she finished reading
the text. She could feel the cool tear stream down her plumped up, wrinkled
face, and couldn't help but feel the cracks in her aged skin as she wiped it
away with a chubby, pink-nailed finger.
'That boy adores you Maggie' Julie said, calmer now 'I adore
you. So does your sister, your Aunt, your friends. We all feel how Billy feels.
Please don't give up on yourself.'
Maggie took a second, trying to figure out how to respond to
all of this emotion, all of this drama, before she excused herself, lifting her
self out of the booth, her soft stomach pressing against the table as she
struggled out and then waddled off to the bathroom. Julie sat there, putting
the phone back in her pocket as she tried to calm herself. The food wouldn't be
too long. Maggie entered the bathroom and was lucky to see that she was alone.
She made her way into one of the stalls and sat her large backside down on the
seat before quietly muffling sobs into her liver-spotted hands. Of course it
would be Billy who broke her conviction. Her mind in its distress and sadness
was flooded with memories of the two of them together. Special moments and
times in their relationship when she knew their connection was something
different, something special. Her mind was cast back to a little under two
years prior to what both she and Billy considered to be the most important
moment in their relationship bar the first night they met.
It had been around that time of year in fact, the end of
spring term and both of them were attending a party at a mutual friend's
apartment. They weren't together at this time, and in fact weren't even
speaking to one another, Maggie and Billy having been on and off for so much of
their early relationship. Whenever they'd get together one of two things would
eventually happen, Maggie would get nervous about opening up, about letting
someone become so significant in her life given everything that had happened
with her father as a child and she would break it off, or Billy wouldn't be
able to put up with Maggie's hot and cold treatment and would end things
himself. The timing was never right, they always seemed to be coming from
different angles. Maggie had told herself then that despite what she had
thought originally, they simply couldn't make it work. It was stupid to keep
trying, and it hurt the both of them too much whenever they did. Maggie and
Billy had ended on fairly bad terms that time, they had argued a great deal,
and when they reached the crescendo of their argument they both decided to just
stop talking to one another altogether. There was too much drama involved. By
the time of that end of term party it must have been at least three or four
months since they had last spoke, they both knew that the other had dated or
seen other people in that time, but they never acknowledged it or one another.
Maggie had avoided him completely at the party, knowing that with the two of
them drunk and at the same event it was destined for a messy end, and when her
other friends were wanting to move on to a nightclub Maggie quickly jumped at
the opportunity to escape the potentially dramatic situation. Her friends had
called a cab and were waiting for her while she searched the party for her jacket.
It had been a recent purchase. A cute number, and very expensive. She couldn't
leave it behind. Room to room she couldn't find it, no-one had seen it, until
she walked into the living room. It was getting later in the night and the
party was slowly dissipating. Her jacket was there on the couch, and by the
window was Billy. He had his back to her, hadn't heard her come in and was
quietly holding his drink in one hand as he gazed out.
'Hey' she had said, nervous for him to turn around.
Billy had turned, saw her and half-smiled.
'Hey'
The two had stood there for a moment, not knowing what to
say next before Maggie walked closer to him.
'I'm sorry for you ignoring you all night' she had said 'I
would have said hi, it's just...difficult y'know?'
'Yeah, same here' he said, 'You leaving?'
She nodded.
'Going out to some club I think. You?'
'I was just going to go home actually. Been a little
preoccupied all night.'
'You're sober.'
'Not really in the mood to drink.'
The spark between the two was almost visible. They both felt
it, that magnet like attraction. After hearing the cab outside screech off,
Maggie rushed to the window to see her friends abandon her.
'Fucking assholes'
'What?'
'Hayley and them, they just took off.'
'I can call you one if you like?'
Maggie turned around. Her soft, cute face ever so slightly
pouting, and blowing a rogue blonde hair out of her face that was tied up in a
messy ponytail style.
'It's fine. I'll walk you along a bit if you want. I can
just catch a cab home on the way.'
'Sure.'
They had talked incessantly as they had journeyed along the
road. Maggie was barefoot, holding her heels in her hands and laughing at some
silly story Billy was telling with great ease. His gestures expressive and
lively. As they got closer to his apartment though, and no cabs had passed
them, Billy stopped for a second.
'What's up?' she asked.
'What is this?' he said, suddenly turning serious.
'What do you mean?'
'Me and you. Is this just a friendly, casual thing? Or is it
something more?'
'Can't you tell?'
'Not really. We've been so up and down before it's hard to
figure out now.'
'Yeah...' she said, looking down to her bare feet, her nails
white then '...I get what you're saying.'
'Maggie I need you to listen to me for a second' he had said
before sighing '...I'm saying this because part of me thinks we might never
talk again. That it might be another four months before we're even able to make
eye contact again.'
'I'm listening.'
'I love you. I have since the second I met you and when I
know you have your demons and a lot of past issues to deal with that keeps you
from embracing it fully. But now I don't care. I love you and I always will.
There's nothing I can do about that. I'm not asking for us to get back together
I just need you to know that before I do anything else.'
Maggie had stood there looking up at Billy with her big blue
eyes. His own, serious and filled with longing. It was all so complicated, love
and relationships. She had spent so long not knowing what she wanted, being
scared of what she really wanted, and running away from love in the form of
Billy whenever things ever got too close for her. But there in that moment, she
saw the conviction in Billy's eyes and truly knew that he would never hurt her.
Not like how her father had hurt her mother. She knew he loved her, and she
loved him and so she walked closer to him, stood up on her tip-toes and kissed
him once on the lips gently before it gradually built into something more
passionate.
'I love you too' she had said 'More than you'll ever
realize'
That had been the most important and memorable night in the
young lover's relationship for sure. They had got back together quickly after
and never looked back. They had their arguments and fights of course like any
couple, but they knew they really had each other in the end. Maggie tried to
comprehend all of this as she still sat there in the bathroom stall. Her thick,
meaty thighs rubbing together, her wobbling belly resting eerily comfortably
upon them as her tears dried. She hadn't been in there for too long. Maybe five
minutes. The food would be arriving soon. Maggie made her way out of the stall
and walked over to the bathroom mirror. No-one had came in during her time
there, she had been lucky. In the mirror she saw that her make-up was running
ever so slightly, nothing she couldn't fix, but to see her elderly self in such
a state made the aged girl feel a little ill. She pulled at the bags beneath
her eyes and grimaced in mild disgust.
'I look like a witch' she said before standing up a little
more straight and patting her white-blonde hair back in place. She stood to the
side as she continued to watch her aged reflection in the mirror, her profile
revealing just how big she really was. Her breasts drooped ever so slightly
onto her stomach, and trying in some unrealistic attempt to look slimmer,
Maggie placed her plump hands against her soft paunch and tried to suck in as
much as she could. Her chubby, jowly face wrinkling even further and looking
somewhat comical as she did so. She glimpsed at her shelf-like behind, wide and
wobbling and then stopped abruptly. She turned again to face the mirror
directly and she breathed deep as she looked over her reflection one last time,
her hand playing with the turkey-wattle beneath her neck as she turned it left
and right. Billy loved her, that was true. He loved her more than any boyfriend
she had ever had, and she too, loved him more than she had ever loved anyone
else. He could love a sick girl, she thought, even a dying girl. There was
something almost romantic about it all....but an old woman? No. He wouldn't be
able to love an old woman, and she shouldn't expect him too. Billy didn't
deserve the stretch-marks, the cellulite or the wrinkles. He didn't deserve a girlfriend
that waddled with a bad hip and who would be snoring in front of the TV by nine
o'clock in a recliner. For his sake, and for her own, she had to let Billy go
once and for all. That beautiful memory of their reunion could only be that, a
memory.
She didn't know what to say to her mother when she would leave the bathroom and return to her table, to feast on a steak and show Julie just how much of a fatty her daughter had become, she only knew that her initial convictions would hold strong. Like it or not, she was an old woman now, and the evidence suggested that it was for good. With that Maggie made her way outside, holding her two chins up just a little higher as she returned to her table. The food had already arrived and her mother was awkwardly forking away at her meal when Maggie struggled her way back into the booth, grunting ever so slightly as she did. The food smelled delicious, and the young old woman was ravenous at this point. Julie looked up at her aged daughter and smiled a little sadly.
'Are you feeling any better?'
'I am, but I need to just say this one thing and we'll leave it for the night.'
'What?'
'I don't want to argue with you. I know this has been just as stressful and awful for you as it has been for me.'
'Oh I don't know about that--'
'No it has. I'm your daughter, and I know you. You're so strong and you'd do anything for me and Ashley. You've always made us your priority. So for that, thank you. But this isn't something you can fix, and I know you want to more than anything, please don't think I don't appreciate it all. I truly do. But mom, whatever has happened to me is for good. I know it. I'm not happy about it, but until something suggests otherwise, we're going to have to move forward as is.'
'Maggie...'
'Please let me finish. I know that's not what you want to hear. Trust me, it's not something I want to be saying...but I think this is the case. That means that everything's going to be different for me from here on out. What I can do. My relationships are all going to be different or...gone...and so I need to make sure our relationship doesn't change. Or if it does, it changes for the better. I'm going to have my life...like this...and I'm going to be needing all the help and support I can. So please don't argue with me. Please just tell me you'll be there to help me when I really need you.'
Julie looked into the eyes of her aged daughter and could see the sincerity with which she spoke. She understood every word. She wished she could argue, but she couldn't. Maggie was right. Julie placed her hand upon her daughter's and stroked it gently, sweetly before nodding.
'Of course sweetheart, of course.'
Maggie sighed with some relief as she reciprocated her mother's gesture. Holding her hand and gripping it tightly as her chubby fingers would allow.
'Thank you. Now....can I eat?'
___________________________________________________________________________________
Julie traced the rim of the wine glass, her second in the last half hour with her delicate and perfectly manicured finger as she sat there alone in her Aunt's kitchen. She could barely think with all that had transpired that night. Maggie's revelation at the restaurant of how far this transformation had really gone was devastating for her and Julie couldn't escape the image of the affected identification in her hands, the picture of her daughter's once young and smooth face swapped out for that of her elderly and matronly new self. The birth-date reading 1949 and not 1993 as it should have been, making Maggie older than her own mother by just a few years, the very idea of it making the distressed mother want to vomit. Julie closed her eyes tightly trying to rid herself of that moment as it seemed to refuse to let go of her overtired and exhausted mind. Neither could she escape that initial sinking feeling upon hearing Maggie seal her own fate, declaring this maddened and warped state of things as being 'it' from now on. She had just wanted to try and have a normal night with her daughter if that was at all possible anymore, conscious and scared of the growing distance between Maggie and herself. With all that had transpired in the last week the last thing she wanted to do was alienate her, but now she didn't know where they stood with one another.
They had apologized and seemingly made peace during their meal at Aberto's, the drive back to Easy Springs being not quite as awkward as the drive up had been but a tension still existed there. Julie felt that Maggie's declaration that she was stuck as the 67 year old version of herself she had been transformed into was defeatist, that Maggie was giving up on some level, and her daughter naturally felt differently on the matter. She understood Maggie's point to a certain extent, she understood and respected the strength it took to acknowledge her life as being forever changed and still deciding to carry on, but this was so much more than any normal trauma. More than just the dramatic physical changes that had befallen Maggie, it was the change in lifestyle, this shift in identity that Julie feared the most. Julie felt that if Maggie began to live her life as Margaret Barnes fully that she might lose her forever. She could understand the attraction of that given her circumstances, of allowing herself to fall into a whole other life so as to avoid the hurt of losing her real one, and she couldn't lose Maggie...especially not like this. On the other hand she could also recognize from her usually objective and practical position that the possibility of Maggie being trapped this way forever was very real, and if that was the case that meant that her daughter's life would have to change no matter what. Perhaps she was just being resistant to what her daughter recognized as inevitable, she thought as she took a large swig from the wine glass.
All that Maggie had worked so hard for, namely her aspiring career in the fashion industry would be for nothing, all of that skill and talent utterly wasted. The reality of an elderly woman succeeding in such an industry especially to the level Maggie had been striving for was simply non-existent, laughable even. More crushingly to Julie however was the affect this terrible change would inevitably have on her daughter's various relationships. She did know on some level that Maggie had been losing touch with some of her closest friends shortly before the transformation, her stubborn and headstrong pursuit of her work and career at all costs having affected her social standing pretty drastically as of late. To the point in fact where she hadn't even seen Maggie's best friend Hayley for a good few months, the girl at one point a regular around their home. Hayley had been a great contrast for Maggie Julie thought. She was a fun-loving and sweet natured girl who lightened Maggie up a great deal, and wherever she could encouraged her to really have fun and let her hair down for a bit, to stop taking herself so seriously. The change would almost certainly sever that strenuous tie completely, knowing Maggie would perhaps never feel comfortable revealing the truth of her situation to Hayley or any of other friends. Her relationship with Billy she realized, would suffer the same fate, Maggie almost certainly being too self-conscious and embarrassed by her current predicament to ever interact with him as she currently was. That would be the greatest casualty of this metamorphosis Julie thought, Maggie's mother having a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for her daughter's boyfriend.
She herself had not been so lucky in love when she was Maggie's true age, having met Derrick (Maggie's father) in her late teens and falling pregnant to him at only 21. Her pregnancy had impeded her own career ambitions greatly, and while she did eventually manage to land on her feet financially it had been a real struggle for the first few years of Maggie's life. Derrick wasn't a bad person really despite what he eventually did after the birth of Ashley. His abandonment of Julie and her two daughters proving to be something a blessing in disguise as it forced Julie to become a real figure of strength and perseverance that she knew had greatly shaped Maggie's own tough, independent streak that allowed her to work so diligently. Derrick simply had no ambition or ability for fatherhood, and he had greatly struggled to grow up and be the responsible, attentive figure that Julie and Maggie needed him to be after she was born. He did try at times, always tidying his act up around birthdays and other significant holidays, always promising to do better...but would always end up falling back into his cycle of self-destructive behavior. The responsibility had weighed so heavy on Derrick after Maggie was born that when Julie fell pregnant with Ashley that weight became so great as to break him entirely. He knew he couldn't be the father he needed to be to either of those two girls, and thinking he was doing the right thing for his family he simply left them. Left the city, the state, perhaps even the country if he could find the money. In the note he had left Julie he even said he was 'doing the first responsible thing since Maggie was born' by leaving, the 'first right thing'.
When Julie first heard of Maggie talking about Billy she initially panicked. The strength of her daughter's emotions for this boy, first of all rare given how standoffish and detached she could be, seemed exceptional for someone she had only just met. Her description of him as someone funny, creative and possessing a boyish charm all echoing her own descriptions of Maggie's father at that age. Upon meeting him though that all completely changed. It was so apparent that Billy really loved her daughter, she could read it in his eyes and his very posture, it was a true adoration. Despite their various ups and downs at the beginning of their relationship, the on/off aspect, the two of them even dating other people at one point Julie still knew they'd find their way back to one another. They balanced each other out so well, and they were like magnets for one another's energy. Ultimately he was a good kid and Julie could really see Maggie have an exciting and bright future with Billy. Now that significant relationship, after all they had been through as a couple it could all very well be destroyed. If Maggie was stuck this way Julie could never picture her daughter ever making the decision to reach out to Billy, and even if she did how could anyone expect the young man to still stay with her romantically when she was for all intents and purposes an old woman? It wasn't that Billy was shallow but he had a life also, it wouldn't be fair to expect that of him, and Julie realized that Maggie probably understood this point also. All of that she realized was just the tip of the iceberg, there was still so much to deal with moving forward, so many issues still to address. Would Maggie live with her Aunt indefinitely now or would she come home? Would she or could she face Ashley? What would they tell the young girl if she did? All of this and more spiraled through Julie's mind at a roaring pace, so much so that she didn't even notice her aged daughter quietly come and stand in the doorway of the kitchen, Julie holding her eyes shut once more and placing her youthful hand to her cheek as the other gripped the glass of wine.
'Hey...'
Julie placed the glass of wine down as she sat up slightly and turned to look at what she at first thought was her Aunt Doris. The croaky, old sounding voice and the immediate image of plump, matron-hood standing in the shade of outside the kitchen making her think this. It took her a second to realize that it was actually Maggie, the aged girl walking her wide body through the door frame and into the light. Sometime earlier in the night Maggie had journeyed upstairs to 'get herself comfortable for bed', bed being 9:30, and when she didn't come back downstairs she assumed her far more easily tired daughter had fallen asleep.
'Hey honey...I thought you were heading to bed?'
'I was' the aged girl said, looking down a tad awkwardly and staring at her pink-slippered, chubby feet, 'I just uh thought we could talk some more? I didn't even say goodnight.'
Julie smiled rather sadly as she watched Maggie walk slowly over to her. It was still so surreal seeing her daughter this way. Maggie was dressed in a mint green sweat suit along with her always to hand pink slippers, a favorite outfit of older women Julie realized. An outfit built for comfort and ease and it made Maggie look especially old Julie thought. Her daughter was quite evidently not wearing a bra underneath her sweat suit and seeing her daughter's impressive but droopy new bosom sag and jiggle clearly beneath the top, eventually resting in a slight pool on the kitchen table as she sat herself down opposite her mother was nothing short of shocking for Julie to notice. She made a point of not staring however, it wasn't like she hadn't seen older women with breasts like that before, the image of her own mother in her later years coming to her mind, but seeing her own daughter like this was a lot for her to take in. It was only a little over a week ago that Maggie was complaining about her 'lack of boobs', now she had the breasts of a woman who had breastfed multiple children. Julie did her best to get past it.
'Are you alright?' Maggie croaked in her lower voice, indicating with her wrinkled eyes to the bottle and glass of wine that sat beside her mother.
Julie laughed slightly before breathing deeply. She looked into Maggie's eyes behind her grandmotherly glasses.
'I'm fine sweetheart honest. I don't plan on making this a habit if that's what you're worried about. It's just been a long day is all.'
Maggie nodded.
'Yeah...it really has.'
There was a slight pause before Julie began pouring more wine into the glass.
'Do you want a glass?'
'No thanks mom, I'm good' Maggie said, waving her pink-nails about in a manner that frustratingly reminded Julie of her Aunt Doris.
'So...' Julie said 'What else did you want to talk about?'
Maggie sighed a little before looking back up at her mother.
'What we were talking about earlier on...in the restaurant...have you had more time to think about that?'
Julie took a sip of her glass, holding it in her mouth for a moment and embracing the flavor before she nodded.
'I have' she said 'I'm trying to understand Maggie. I'm trying to understand what you told me, with the ID and everything...what it could mean, what our options are now...' she sighed, closing her eyes again in slight frustration 'I just don't want to argue with you hon'
'I don't want to argue either Mom. That's the last thing I want to do. I'm still trying to understand it all myself, I just think we have to start being more realistic here.'
'I understand sweetheart. I think...I think I just didn't want to believe you. Didn't want to believe that this could really be....it from now on. It's not fair to you, I don't want that for you.'
'It's out of our hands now. I know you think I'm giving up in some way but I need you to know that I'm not. Trust me if I thought there was anyway for me to turn back to normal, if there was something I had to do, anything I would do it. But as far as we know there's nothing like that. No fixes.'
'I know you're not giving up sweetheart. It wasn't fair of me to say that earlier. You're doing the exact opposite, you're persevering, carrying on, just like you always do.'
Maggie smiled warmly at her mother and Julie returned it as she placed the glass to one side.
'Okay then Maggie...if we're getting realistic with all of this...there's a few things we're going to have to address about how you want to handle things from now on.'
'Shoot' Maggie said, sitting back just a little, the chair creaking slightly beneath her weight.
'I think the most pressing thing is your sister. I know it's only been a little over a week but I don't like keeping her in the dark about all of this, I hate lying to her. She's a smart girl she knows there's something up.'
Maggie sighed deeply and readjusted the glasses on her face.
'I've been thinking a lot about Ashley actually, I'm pretty conflicted about her if I'm being honest.'
'How so?'
'Well I want to see her of course. I want to be a part of her life still, but...I just can't do that as me anymore...as Maggie. I mean do we try and tell her what's really going on? How could she even begin to understand what's happened to me?'
'I don't know but we have to do something. You can't just shut your sister out of your life forever sweetheart.'
'I know, but we also have to consider the fact that she's just a kid. Even if she did understand that I'm still her sister and I've been made old...what's to stop her from telling some kid in her class about it? Mentioning it at school? Next thing you know the school thinks she's delusional and starts asking about it. Everything would become so complicated.'
'It's a fair point Maggie but what's the other option?'
'Well...' Maggie said, pausing for a moment '...there is one other option.'
Julie already knew where her daughter was going with this. She rolled her eyes and tried to avoid getting upset at the idea.
'I know it'd be very weird...trust me when I say it's not something I'm all that comfortable with...but I could say I'm grandma. At least she'd understand that. At least that makes sense.'
'Do you really think that's a good idea Maggie? Do you not think it might confuse her a little that her sister disappears to Europe and her grandmother just shows up out of the blue? Besides, she knows her grandmother is dead.'
'No she doesn't, not really. She's young enough that she'd believe it was dad's mom who passed away instead. It's not like we're going to be running into Dad's parents any time soon.'
'Again Maggie I don't feel comfortable with you pretending to be my mother. It's very disturbing.'
'I know but what other option do we have? Mom I swear that I'm not going to try and pretend to be Grandma Margaret. It's not like that. It's basically the name and the role and that's it y'know? I don't plan on trying to act like her or anything...'
Julie was silent for a moment, looking out the kitchen window at the clear sky night, the moon nearly full, beautiful and distracting. She rubbed her neck slightly out of a light anxiety before she sighed and nodded very slowly.
'Okay Maggie...okay. I...I can deal with it. You're right, it does make the most sense for dealing with Ashley. I suppose that we just keep up the story that you're actually studying out the country still?'
'Yeah'
'How long do we keep that up for though honey?'
'I really don't know. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. We'll know when it's gone on long enough.'
'And after that?'
'I don't really want to think about what we tell her beyond that if I'm being entirely honest mom.'
'Okay so if you want to see Ashley again, first off...how soon?'
'Not right away. I need some time to just...get more comfortable like this. It's still so new, I'm still figuring it all out. I don't think I'll be ready to face her for a little while at least.'
'So you're not going to be moving back home now then?'
Maggie looked up at her mother a little confused.
'Did you want me to?'
'Well of course I want you back home sweetheart but I didn't know whether you'd want to just yet. If we're going to be approaching your...condition as if its going to last...then we need to consider your living situation. Do you want to stay here for a while and then move back or....?
'Y'know I haven't really thought about it all that much to tell you the truth. I guess...I guess I'll stay here for a while. After that, I don't know. It would be a little strange just living back at home as if nothing was different, and it might weird Ashley out that her grandma has come to live with her in place of me. I should stay with Aunt Doris for a bit...what happens after...' Maggie trailed off.
'Bridge when we get to it?' Julie said, a knowing tone in her voice.
'Yeah...jeez I didn't even consider half of this stuff before. So much is going to change huh?'
Julie reached over and placed her hand on her aged daughter's rounded shoulder.
'Hey we'll make this work Maggie. I know I promised you I'd fix all of this when it started and I feel like I've let you down...'
'Of course you've not, there's nothing you could have done Mom.'
'I know but...maybe I shouldn't have made those promises if I didn't know I could keep them. So instead of that, I'm going to promise you this. I promise that no matter what I will be with you every step of the way from now on. That whenever you want or need me I'll be there, and whatever decision you make for your life I'll do my best to support it okay baby?'
Maggie patted her mother's hand with her own liver-spotted one.
'I know you will Mom. Thank you, for everything really.'
The mother and daughter continued to talk for another hour and half before Maggie got too tired to go on. With all of the worry and stress laid so bare in that conversation it had greatly relieved the two of them. Julie heading to her Aunt's couch after their long discussion was over and wrapping the blanket around her slim and lithe body with some reassurance that she and her daughter's relationship would survive this horrible mess, and despite not being remotely happy with the idea of Maggie reuniting with her younger sister under the guise of 'grandma' it did lighten her somewhat to know that Maggie wouldn't be kept out of Ashley's life for much longer. Of course Julie was still deeply concerned about what the future held for her family, she herself now coming to Maggie's point that this would perhaps be an indefinite factor in their lives now. There was still a lot of readjustment and learning still to come, but at least they both seemed ready for it she thought. They had to be.
Maggie had waddled her way up the stairs, one plump hand on the banister and the other supporting her back. She wasn't in any considerable pain at that point, the movement had just become so automatic for her now that it was difficult not to form the gesture when she moved in anyway that might trigger her achy hip. She was glad she went down to talk to her mother before heading to bed, feeling in much a similar way as her mother, that their bond would not be severed as a result of all of this madness. Maggie made her way inside her bedroom as she continued to think about the contents of she and her mother's conversation. The idea of her seeing Ashley was slightly bitter-sweet, on the one hand very much wanting to be reunited with her younger sister, but greatly agitated at the idea of introducing herself as 'Grandma Margaret' when she was. If she was right and her change was forever that would mean she would be acting as Ashley's grandmother from now on. The very idea being so abstract to Maggie that she literally couldn't process it in its entirety. With all that had happened to her in the last week, all that she had learned and dealt with...she knew that there was still so much more to come.
The aged girl took her glasses off and sat them by her bedside cabinet as she began to prepare for bed. Maggie then began to undress and started by pulling the green sweat-suit top over her fat body which pulled at her sinking breasts and made her soft stomach which was hanging over the lip of her sweat pants wobble with the motion. She barely reacted as her heavy bosom slapped back down against her plush, rounded body, the reality being that as much as it truly and deeply bothered her, Maggie had gotten entirely used to the feeling of her old, drooping new breasts resting against her flabby and naked body. It was one of the first things she managed to teach herself to accept after the change, perhaps due to how disorientated and initially disgusted by the sensation she felt. Now, it was just a part of her as she knew it would be for the rest of her life. The aged girl turned to face the vanity mirror across from her bed and began to look at her reflection intensely. She took a second to grab her glasses back from the cabinet, and once she placed them back on her face, chain and all, she kicked off her pink slipper and began to strip off her sweat pants. Her body quaked with fat and flesh as it always did when she got dressed, her exposed stomach and swinging breasts making the most movement. Then, just down to her blubber hugging granny panties Maggie moved closer to vanity mirror and really took a look at herself. She posed slightly, her hands positioned on her sensitive, wide hips before she took her hands to her stomach, lifting it and then allowing it to drop, her wrinkled eyes watching the wobbling motion closely. She then took one hand to her left breast, which rested not far from her stomach, and did the same thing...lifting the heavy, fleshy thing and allowing it to drop, an almost satisfying slap sound resonating as it landed. This was her now, she thought. This figure in the mirror, the old woman, the fat old woman...that was her. That who she was now and who she was going to be forever more.
She stayed that way for a minute, just looking at the strange image of the naked grandma staring back at her, the aged girl trying to digest the incredible fact that they were one in the same. She then shook herself out of her funk and waddled over to her closet where she picked out an old fashioned pink nightie. She laid it down on her bed as she reached over to the cabinet drawer and retrieved the ointment for her joints. Her bed creaked as she sat down, as it did every night when she performed this ritual. Her hips, her knees, her elbows, neck, back and stomach. It always felt satisfying, weirdly and strangely so. Maggie then removed her glasses once more and stepped into her nightie before slipping into bed. Once the light was out she sat for just a second and considered what was to come next for her. She knew her mother was downstairs doing the same, knowing her more than likely stressing and not being able to get any sleep with all of the potential problems still to be dealt with. As Maggie grew more tired, her old eyes getting heavy she thought about her day ahead, she hoped that Doris had recorded 'her shows' as she asked her to before leaving for the restaurant earlier that day. She would catch up on them in the morning if Doris didn't mind, and then she would spend the rest of the day maybe pottering around the house, helping her Aunt clean up here and there, a good few tea breaks to be had as she did so. She might venture out to the supermarket now that she was more comfortable dealing with the outside world, they needed to pick up some groceries. That was going to be her life from now on, just existing as this elderly woman she had been turned into. As she began to drift off to sleep a last thought struck her that actually made the aged girl chuckle slightly. She understood Bingo now. Why her Aunt Doris and the other old women looked forward to it so much, because with a life of soap operas, tea and reclining chairs ahead of her...she couldn't wait for Bingo next Tuesday.
I'm glad you're back. By the way, I'm Shadow, the one who asked you for permission to translate. In the last few months I've been adapting your content to my language, I think I've done a decent job to adapt it but that should be judged by other people. If you wish, I could send you the first chapters of the story if you feel like reading it (even though it's in another language).
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