Nathan's father arrived home to find a black SUV parked in the driveway. Once he walked into the house, he heard the sound of soft, frustrated weeping and walked into the kitchen to find his wife, seated, with two men in dark suits looming behind her. One held a clipboard with papers, the other a strange-looking device.
"What's going on here?"
"Oh, dear," his wife said, dabbing at tears with a napkin plucked from the jolly dispenser shaped like a holiday turkey. "These men are from TransDem Labs..."
"We represent Mr. Kwestin, the manufacturer of the Chronivac," the man holding the device spoke. "Are you the father of the minor Nathan Castille?"
Mr. Castille looked at his wife. "What's he done?"
The question caused her to burst into fresh sobbing. "What he always does! Ruins my plans!"
Since Mrs. Castille wasn't much help, her husband turned to the men. The one with the clipboard read from it. "Your son, a minor, gained unauthorized access to a Chronivac unit thanks to..." The man squinted to read a name. "A Mr. Fernando E. Castille."
"That's my grandfather!" Nathan's father exclaimed. "What's he to do with this?"
"He apparently made the purchase, sir," the man said.
"I don't understand..."
"We're here to retrieve the unit and, if we can, offer our assistance in rectifying any possible mischances the unauthorized user has suffered. Failing that, we are authorized to make monetary compensation for loss of limbs, life, etc."
Mrs. Castille rejoined the conversation. "They said that Nathan has changed himself into..." Her voice gave way to more wailing. "A mouse!" She finally exclaimed.
Mr. Castille felt sure this was some sort of prank. "A mouse! That's impossible..."
"I assure you, sir, it is more than possible. The Chronivac is a revolutionary product."
"But..." Nathan's father blanched and stuttered. "I...was that Nathan?" He looked toward his wife, thinking of the tiny white rodent he had released on the corner lot.
"Yes!" His wife wailed. "That ungrateful boy has ruined the holidays!"
"We gather that you, unknowingly of course, transported your son, now transformed, away from the premises," the man holding the device spoke. "Would you mind giving us the location? It might still be possible..."
"How was I to know?" Nathan's father reacted strongly. "It looked like any run-of-the-mill white mouse."
The men frowned at the display of family dysfunction. "Where did you take it?" The other man prodded. Simply recovering the subject would be much preferable to a cash payout.
"Only a few blocks from here," Nathan's father said. "I can show you."
"That might be a good idea," said the man with the paperwork.