Mark figured he was as comfortable as he was going to get and let himself start to drift off to sleep. It had been a long, exhausting day and he had three more to go. Sighing, he snuggled his face against stuffed animal. Huh? Mark stared blearily at the floppy-eared terry-cloth dog clutched in his hands. Where the Hell had this come from? The toy was well-worn from years of use. It had to belong to one of the Cub Scouts, but what was it doing in his sleeping bag? He almost tossed it across the tent, but then unzipped the sleeping bag and pulled on his robe and slippers. One of the Scouts must have found it and put it here instead of taking it back to the bunkhouses. Some little kid was probably having a miserable night without his doggie. Mark sighed, remembering his own son's long attachment to a stuffed bear. Looked like he had a long trek through woods ahead.
Moving quietly so he wouldn't wake any of the Boy Scouts, Mark made his way along the trail. The moon was full and the sky was clear, but he was still surprised at the amount of light. Looking up, he saw what looked to be a small swarm of fireflies - really big and really bright. They were making a curious noise - not buzzing, more like high-pitched chittering. Mark shrugged to himself and continued. Funny. He felt really good now, the fatigue and aches and pains that had been nagging at him gone.
There was a light ahead, followed by a dull red glow. Slowing, he eased around some trees and discovered two of his Scouts puffing on a shared cigarette. They looked startled when they saw him, but then relaxed. Terry, a dark-haired boy who had just turned 15, scowled. "Shit, man! You scared me! I thought it might be your Dad." The other kid was a lanky 16 year-old with blonde hair and bad acne named David. He held the cigarette out. "Want a drag?"
Their reaction confused Mark, who had always maintained a strict no-smoking policy for his troop. "What do you boys think you are doing?" He snatched the offered cigarette and crumbled it apart with his fingers. "You know these are not allowed!"
"You fucking asshole!" Terry was outraged, staring incredulously at Mark. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
David stared down at the ruined cigarette. "That was my last one, you prick! If your dad wasn't the troop leader I'd kick your ass!"
Shocked, it took Mark a few seconds to process what they were saying. If his dad...? Did these boys think he was Mark Junior? "Look, guys. I don't know what was in that cigarette, but you need to keep a civil..." He did not even see the punch to the stomach that knocked the air from his lungs and sent him sprawling backwards in the woods.
David scowled down at him. "Fuck you! And if you say anything, I'll do some real hurting on you!"
Terry gave a snorting laugh. "Look! He's got his toy doggie! Little Markie still wikes his winky?"
The two teens strode back to the camp, leaving a completely baffled Mark still gasping on the ground. He'd have to press charges. How could those boys think they could attack an adult and get away with it? At least there were some other parents at the bunkhouse area. He could talk things over with one of them and figure out how to proceed. After catching his breath, Mark scrambled up and continued. He was embarrassed about the incident. How could that kid have taken him down with one sucker punch? Though he was a lot bigger than Mark remembered - must have had a growth spurt. On the other hand, the ache from the punch was already gone. Guess he hadn't been hit as hard as he thought.
The hem of his robe started to catch on twigs and roots, and he hoisted it up in annoyance, then blinked down at dirty bare feet. Hadn't he put on his slippers? It sure didn't look like he had been wearing anything. Damn. He needed to be careful of acorns and pinecones. Moving more carefully along the path, Mark only made it a few more steps before he felt a desperate need to pee. Moving off to the side, he batted at the robe, which sagged around him like a tent, and then pulled it off and let it fall to the ground while he pulled the fly of his pajamas open and relieved himself. It was a good thing he went commando, because he might not have had time to get briefs down with the stuffed dog taking up one of his hands.
When he was done, he looked around for his robe but saw only pine needles and grass. What the...? He thought hard, sure he had put on a robe. It was warm enough out he really didn't need one. Must be back with his slippers. Clutching the toy to his chest, Mark started for the cabins again. He was about halfway there, now. Why had they moved the Boy Scouts so far away? He didn't like it out here in the woods alone. There were noises all around, branches creaking, things moving in the dark. He stumbled a couple of times, and looked around fearfully before stopping to shake his head in frustration. What was wrong with him? Scared of the dark? He was a grown man! Still, everything looked wrong - the trees too tall, the shadows too deep. He felt his eyes start to tear up and hissed angrily to himself. "Stop it! Stupid!" Still, he hugged the big stuffed dog against his chest with both arms when he continued, finding some comfort from the familiar toy.
The fireflies were still overhead, and he stopped to look up at them in wonder. They were really pretty. He giggled, then flushed at the silly reaction. He had to keep going, to get back to the bunk houses. That's where the grownups were. And the other kids. He batted at some insects that landed briefly on his bare arms and chest, then stared down at himself. The smooth, hairless skin and slender body looked wrong. The pajama bottoms seemed unfamiliar, dark blue with yellow balloons. He tugged at the waist, puzzled. No top? Well, he didn't remember taking one off.
An owl hooted up in the trees, startling Mark and setting his heart pounding. He really did not like being out here in the dark. At least the pretty fireflies were staying with him, flying lower and making noses like happy laughter. They were really big, and he felt one land on his head. He giggled again and held out one of his arms. The fireflies all settled on him then, and he marveled at them when he saw they were little people! A flicker of fear started up, only to get short-circuited into more confusion. They seemed to be getting bigger.
He had to pee again, and he reached down to tug at the elastic waistband of his pull-ups. Now he was even more confused. Pull-ups? They were for little kids! Mark frowned at the Wolverine characters on the padded underpants. They looked perfectly natural under his rounded child's belly. He stared blankly down at himself, struggling to understand. Then the little people laughed again, and he remembered.
Mark gasped and stumbled back, shaking his arm to dislodge the fairies. He had to look again to confirm the impossible - he was a little boy! His first thought was that those teens had been smoking some kind of hard drugs instead of tobacco, and he must have inhaled some. But this was too real. And his clothes! He'd never seen these pull-ups before, never even imagined them. And the stuffed dog was a third his size now. What was he? Five years old? The laughter sounded again, soft and happy. No! He wasn't a little kid! He was... Mark's eyes widened as he searched his mind for answers. His eyes filed with tears again, and this time he did not stop them.
"Markie!" A huge figure burst from the trees and he cried out as he was swept up into a hug. "Are you OK?"
Blinking, Mark leaned back and recognized his son. His relief vanished when he realized that Mark had a 5-oclock shadow, something the smooth-cheeked 18 year-old had not yet managed. "Don't ever wander off like that again!" There was anger behind the words, but relief and love as well. "I only let you come along because you promised to stay with me all the time! If your grandma ever found out you had gotten lost she'd never let you out of her sight again!"
Grandma? How could his grandmother... Mark heard the laughter again, and discovered new memories among the jumble of thoughts in his head. This was Daddy. Grandma was Daddy's mommy. His mommy had died when he was born and that made him sad. Mark whimpered and pressed against his daddy's chest. No! Please! He remembered being a grownup, he knew he had been one until just a short time ago. The fireflies, the fairies, they had changed him. Given him youth, taken his past. Not even old enough to be a Cub Scout, but he knew with certainty that he would be signed up as soon as he was five. Another lifetime of meetings and uniforms and camping and projects, and... Sharon. As a mother figure, not a wife.
"It's OK, Markie." His son/daddy hugged him and kissed the top of his head. "You are OK. I won't let anything happen to you." But as he was carried back towards the tent he shared with his Daddy, Marky heard the laughter and knew that nothing could protect him from the new future that was his.