In a sea of pastel cartoons and curving script, James almost didn’t see the black and white photo, but once he saw it, he locked his eyes on it and in other moment his perspective shifted as he got substantially taller. It was a photo of a strapping farmer leaning, shirtless, against a fence.
James glanced down at himself. He was lean and muscular, clad in a tight pair of underwear. He was pleased with the bulge at the front, even if the body clearly wasn’t his natural one. It wasn’t an escape from embarrassment, but it was an escape from protective services.
Both the teenager and an older woman pushing a shopping cart turned into the aisle from opposite ends at the same time. The teen stopped and stared with wide eyes but the woman seemed oblivious at first, at least until her cart bumped into James’ butt. He turned to look at her. She scanned him up and down. James moved his hand to hide the bulge in his briefs to save some modicum of modesty.
“Filth,” she muttered as she pushed her cart passed him and then the teen.
James turned back to the teen, thankful for the moment of embarrassment the old woman had provided because it gave him a chance to think.
“Hey,” He said to the teen. “Have you seen a little kid running around? Wasn’t wearing pants. He stole my clothes while I was in the dressing room. Is there any way you could help a guy out?”
The teen was still staring, his mouth agape. He nodded vaguely.
“So, uh, can I…?”