September 30, 1:00pm
According to the Center, once we begin to regress, we must report to the Center for a formal examination. I remember taking Dad here once his regression finally slowed. Never did I believe it would happen to me as well. This time, he is coming along as the support. Since the 23rd, Dad’s mental state has become more 12-year-old than 42-year-old. He spends his days playing video games instead of reading the paper. He prefers to watch Cartoon Network rather than ESPN or CNN. He’s even adopted the mood swings of a hormonal tween. One minute he is laughing at the most inappropriate fart joke, the next he is sulking about why his clothes never fit him correctly. Poor kid, stuck in the middle of a growth spurt that will never finalize.
He’s even come around to being called ‘bud’ and ‘little dude’; while addressing me as his ‘dad’. While this whole ordeal is the weirdest experience, I still feel like his protector when he calls me dad. Now, though, I’m more like his older brother than his dad. Hell, at this rate, I could be his twin soon.
“Okay, you wait in the waiting area while I head back. Just play on your phone and occupy yourself.” I begin to turn around and head into the waiting room when I stop and turn back around to face my dad. “And please, little dude, remember you’re in public and on public Wi-Fi. Private browsing means nothing.” He rolls his eyes.
“God, Dad! Shut up!” He forcibly whispers. His face blushes and he looks around for anyone he knows. I laugh and continue walking back. The nurse is waiting for me.
“Andrew Core?”
“Yes.” I extend my hand for a handshake. She raises her hands in a defensive way.
“Woah there, Mr. Core. Wear these guys first.” She hands me gloves.
After a thorough and demeaning examination, my physical is finally complete. I sit on the patient’s table covered only in a front concealing hospital gown. The Doctor comes in, and he looks no older than I do right now, possibly even younger. He has spiked blonde hair, a thin, long face with the beginnings of facial hair. He has a few pimples on his forehead. “Well, Mr. Core, as you already know, you do have the KyonOS STRain.” His voice cracks. He clears his throat. “Excuse my voice. Puberty can be killer the second time around.”
“It’s no problem, doc. I completely understand. So, what now?”
“We have an entire care package awaiting you in the lobby. There is something I need to tell you though.” He looks down at the results and back up at me. “As you may have heard, the Kyonos Strain effects your hypothalamus, prefrontal cortex, and all sexual orGanS.” He cleared his throat. “Through examining your hypothalamus and prefrontal cortex, we are able to compare the sizes and create a correlation that predicts your final regressed age. Your ratio is unique though.” I lean forward. “Your hypothalamus is shrinking at an alarming rate compared to your prefrontal cortex.”
“Which means?!”
“Your physical age is going to regress much faster than any of my other clients while your actual personality, maturity, and identity will take much longer.” I gave him wide eyes. “Ultimately, Mr. Core, if you physically look like a toddler, you may still have the mind of a 23-year-old.”
“I…I don’t even know what to say. So, I will be completely aware of everything that happens? How long will it take for my mind to catch up?”
“There’s no telling. Could be a week, month, year, many years. There’s even a chance it could never catch up. But we have a solution.” He stands on his toes to reach the upper most shelf, and he fails to reach the silver case. “Ms. Jenkins, some help please.” Nurse Jenkins reaches above the Doctor and grabs the case for him. He opens the case and pulls out a syringe filled with a purple liquid. “When the Strain hit in Italy, they were able to develop this booster for the Strain. It was supposed to act as a sort-of flu vaccine. Kill the bad with the bad. What they discovered was it just sped the process up. What could take months or years to complete, would be complete in minutes.” He handed me the vaccine. “If you find you are regressing physically much more than mentally, inject this into your right butt cheek. It will speed up your regression.” I take the vaccine.
“So that’s it? It regresses me for good? Both mentally and physically?”
“Yup. One catch though, your Strain of the virus becomes much more contagious for a much longer period of time. So hope your age stops before you need to be taken care of. Otherwise, your care taker runs the risk of being young as well.” I stare down at the vaccine. Still overwhelmed by all of the information. He claps his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Mr. Core. Iceland is still creating a cure and it could be distributed very soon. Just hold on until the very last minute if you can.”
“Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it.” I stand up and shake his hand. “How has your regression been going?” The Doctor puts his head down and smiles slightly.
“Funny you should ask. I had Jenkins here examine me this morning. Turns out this is my last day as a Doctor. My prefrontal should be 100% regressed by tonight.”
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry, Doc. I guess I understand though, not only am I going through this, my Dad is almost complete as well. He’s 12.”
“Unbelievable. I guess I’m one of the lucky ones. I’d rather be a 16 year old than a 12 year old.” He shakes his head silently. “Well, Mr. Core, I hope we see each other again. Maybe we’ll be in the same class once all is said and done.” He smiles while his eyes start getting glassy. “Damn, was it all for nothing?”
“I’m not sure yet, Doc. I’m nOt sURe.” My voice cracks like the teenager I am. I can’t help but smile. “Here we go again.”