The next morning, after a fitful night of sleep interrupted by weird dreams, Ben awoke to his even weirder reality. The previous day, he had been a 37-year-old man, tall, muscular, holding down a tough job as a construction worker.
Now, he awoke in his son's small bed and found himself still trapped inside 12-year-old Brad's scrawny body. The enormous physical change was driven home as he slipped out of bed. He walked across the floor to his son's dresser to find some clothes to cover his naked body. A few moments later, still feeling very odd as he battled both sleepiness and his unfamiliarity with his new body, he stumbled into the kitchen.
He meant to make breakfast, but unexpected gaps kept opening up in his head. He shook his head, stared at the large kitchen range. He felt as if entire gaps of his brain had dissolved overnight.
Yet again, he stared, bewildered, at the stove as his son made a noisy entrance. Brad, wearing only boxer briefs, seated his big, bulky body in a chair at the table. He put one leg up on the table the same as he has seen his Dad do a million times.
At that time, he produced a pack of cigarettes and lit a cigarette while he waited for breakfast to be ready.
He inhaled deeply. "Are you okay, Dad?" Brad asked. "I am so hungry! When's breakfast gonna be ready, huh?"
Ben stirred the eggs in a skillet. "About ready...I think," he said.
Brad stretched and continued taking deep draws on his first cigarette of the day. "Great! I can't believe how hungry I am."
Ben, turning from the stove, looked over at his huge son and frowned. "Brad, put out the cigarette at the breakfast table."
"Why Dad?" Brad inhaled and sighed. "You always smoke at the table. And now I'm you, right?"
"No," Ben objected. "You're a man, no, that's not right. I mean you're a kid. It's not right."
Brad grinned and turned a patient gaze on Ben. "I've been a smoker since I was your age, son," he said, inhaling deeply. "I'm used to it."
Ben felt a chill run along his spine. "I'm not your son!" Ben said, particularly dismayed at the squeaky nature of his attempt to project his former commanding authority in his tone of voice.
Before he had long to dwell on this latest humiliation, Ben heard the knock at the back door.
"Yeah, I'm your son," Brad said and laughed. "Gee, you sure are acting funny this morning, Dad."
Brad noticed that his dad froze at the knock on the door. "Who's that, Dad?" Brad asked as he inhaled deeply at his cigarette.
"Shit! It's Jake." Ben said with a panicked edge to his voice.
Jake, as Brad well knew, happened to be a man his dad works with in construction.
"I forgot," Ben said. "Jake's driving me to work this week."
"Cool," Brad said, smoking deeply. "I like Mr. Connors, Dad. He's a cool guy."
"Brad, listen," Ben explained hurriedly. "I think it best we not tell people what's happened. So, you've got to pretend you're me. Okay?"
"But Dad. I'm not you, How am I gonna get away with that?"
"I'll just try to get rid of him," Ben said. He walked toward the door, but Brad's urgent voice gave him pause.
"Dad! What do you want me to say to him? I don't know what to do."
"Damn," Ben cursed. "He'll be expecting me, so you better get the door. Just wing it."
"But Dad! I don't know?"
They heard the sound of a second knock at the door.
"Just get the door, Brad," Ben ordered.
"Okay," Brad said, and he opened the door. "Hey, Mr. Con? uhh, I mean Jake. How the hell are you today, man?"
"Hey, Ben," Jake said. "Not dressed yet, heh?"
Brad looked down and saw that he was still dressed only in his dad's underwear. "Uh, well, just taking it easy." he said.
"Fine by me," Jake said, "but we don't want to be late."
At the same time, Ben listened, amazed at how much Brad really sounded like him.
Jake Connors was a big man, but until now, Ben had never noticed his friend's size. Almost as tall as himself, well, his normal self, Jake had huge arms, a buzz cut of his blond hair, and partially visible tattoo that extended beyond the sleeves of his clean white T-shirt.
At the same time as he stared at his dad's friend, Brad marveled at how much he sounded like his dad. He stopped trying to think about everything and just let his instincts take control. So far, the new method seemed to work for him.
He walks back to the table and sat down in his chair. He nodded his head toward his father and gave a wink when Jake wasn't looking.
"Hi there, Brad," Jake said as he sat down at the table across from Ben.
"Uh, Dad, uh, I mean Brad is fixing up some breakfast. You want something?" Brad asked.
"No thanks, Ben," Jake said. The big man laughed. "Besides, I think it is burning."
Brad glanced toward the stove. "Dad! Uh, I mean Brad. The eggs!"
Brad ran over to the stove, but he was too late. The eggs looked thoroughly charred.
"Serves you right, Ben, making the kid cook breakfast," Jake said.
"He promised he would, Mr Conn..., uh, I mean, Jake," Brad said, confusing even himself as he tried to fool his dad's best friend and causing Ben to wince in dismay.
To save himself from the awkward statement, Brad laughed and said, "I sure didn't want to disappoint the little squirt. Right, son?"
Ben felt a surge of irritation, but pushed down the feeling. "Right, Dad," he said.
"Well, good thing I'm early," Jake said. "We can stop and get something at a drive-through."
Jake looked at his friend. "We can even drop the boy off at school."
"Uh, yeah, well, I'm not dressed yet, Jake," Brad stammered. "And neither is Dad, uh, I mean Brad."
Jake looked confused. "You all right, Ben?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Brad responded from his adult body.
Jake took out his own pack of cigarettes. "I'll just have a smoke while you guys get ready," he said, looking strangely toward his friend and the guy's son.
Ben, forced to watch as the two big men in the kitchen both smoked cigarettes, felt an urgent longing.
"Son, we'd better get ready," Brad said as he inhaled deeply.
Ben tore his gaze away from Jake's cigarette.
"Yeah, we need to talk, son, uh, I mean, Dad."
"Yeah. Upstairs, young man." Brad, the cigarette clamped in his jaws, turned to Jake. "We''ll be back down in a sec, Jake."
Ben followed behind the huge body that used to be his own. Once upstairs, he faced Brad, who looked on the verge of panic.
"Dad! What are we gonna do? Jake, I mean Mr. Connors, he thinks I am you."
"Of course he does," Ben snapped.
Brad inhaled. The effect seemed to calm him.
"Look, we've got to play along with Jake, at least for now," Ben instructed his son.
"So, I'm Ben!" Brad said.
"No, dammit. I'm Ben," he responded to his son. "Well, for now, you're me, at least as far as Jake is concerned."
"Oh, yeah," Brad said and giggled. "I'm sorry. It's all so confusing, isn't it?"
"Brad, I need you to listen," Ben said in a serious tone. "When you get to work, think of some excuse. You'll need to get away from work. And then you can come to school and get me out of class."
"Okay," Brad said and nodded.
"Then we can come home and think of a way out of this mess," Ben said in a hopeful tone.