Oliver desperately tried to get the two boys to shut up for a second so they could figure out a way over to that shop. He had already told them his idea that the shop might fix this, but there was the entire matter of transportation.
"Well, why don't I drive?" said Connor.
"Because you don't know how!" piped Oliver in frustration.
"But. I'm now big enough. Besides, your car now has car seats for us when you babysit us and take us places...."
"Car seats...?" Thought Ollie as he looked back down at himself and his strangely small little feet and hands. "Oh. Fucking great! I WOULD have to sit in a god damn car seat, wouldn't I!?"
Sighing, he looked back up. WAY back up. At the uncle of the boy he was trapped as. "We could take the bus," he said. Perish the thought of going out into public stuck as a little kid!
"Ah fuck! Anyone who looks at me, all they're going to see is a cute little kid out with his daddy!" he thought.
But he had to bite the bullet and try. It would be the only way to fix this. And so, it was decided they would have to use public transportation.
At the last minute, Connor had decided to at least sweep up the dust that used to be the ring and take it with them. Maybe whoever sold it, made the thing and needed the dust back?
"Well, damn. At least these boys know how to think," thought Oliver. "They're pretty damn smart for their age. More often than not, too smart for their own good too."
"Alright. Let's gather this dust," Ollie said. Wincing again at the sound of the voice he is stuck having to produce.
Once they gathered the dust, they would have to walk a little over a mile to the closest bus stop. Jackson, now his "brother" for the purposes of going out, couldn't stop himself from swinging his arms. Or rather, Connor's arms. And always wiggling around. Ollie was beginning to find that same inexhaustible energy as he noticed Connor keeping mostly cool as an adult.
Nearly 20 minutes later (the twins had short little legs and needed to take 4 or 5 steps for every stride that Connor took), they finally arrived at the stop. Ollie feeling the hard exertion it took to keep up.
When the bus arrived, Connor forgot he had to be the one to pay the bus fare. It was really strange to the driver to see one of the two small little boys with a grown ass man, having to remind him that he has a wallet in his back pants pocket. But what did the driver know? He was, after all, a bus driver, and the things he sees people say and do can sometimes be out of this world. But still. A grown ass man having to be told what to do by someone who was barely older than a toddler....
Anyway, off they went along the bus line. Stopping downtown first to switch buses. Climbing onto a new bus, it was more crowded than the previous one. People trying to make their way home or to do some shopping, Oliver reasoned. He looked over at Jackson (who remember, was now Connor), and he had a look on his face that conveyed how Oliver felt. Kind of vulnerable and shy. Both boys looked up at their manly companion for support and reassurance, as children do when they are trying to learn social graces from someone much older and more experienced than them.
"Oh! Aren't they so PRECIOUS!?" said a random old woman as they made their way towards a seat. "Are they TWINS!?" she asked as she moved to allow the father and his two little boys to sit together.
Oliver rolled his eyes as looked over at his counterpart. Always having to remind himself that he looked identical to such a small little guy. Except he didn't have two little moles on his face.
"Yes. Yes they are. Identical twins," answered Connor, beaming down at both boys kind of mockery fashion that was more directed at Oliver than at Jackson.
"What are their names!?" asked the woman.
"This here is Connor," said Conner as he rubbed his former brother's head that was his former body.
"And this one's Jackson," he said doing the same to Oliver. Now, this was the second time he was addressed with the name "Jackson." And both times was a harsh reminder that he WAS now Jackson!
"Oh, such lovely names for such lovely boys! How old are they!?"
"They're five!" answered Connor.
"Five and a HALF!" Corrected the real Jackson, which somehow made the age of his body seem that much worse. Five and HALF! Not even six years old yet!
But all Ollie could do, was frown. "This sucks"' he thought to himself. "All people see when they look at me, is just some dumb cute little kid who wasn't even alive when Obama was president! Nevermind, someone who had not only graduated kindergarten, but also high school and college!"
Ollie began to sulk as the bus continued on its way. Looking down at his legs that were entirely too short to touch the ground, and just kicking them back and forth just because he could. Thinking about what if this were it? Hell he'd kicking his legs like this in every seat he sits at for years to come, because he was too little for them to rest on the floor.
Anyway, they had arrived at their stop, and it was only a short walk to the stop. With magic ring dust in hand, they entered. The same old woman that had sold Oliver the magic ring, was at the registered. After their greetings, she had remembered the tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed Oliver.
"I see you have two little rascals in tow this time. Who might they be? And how did that ring work out for you?"
"Not good!" Piped up little Ollie.
"Oh my!" Said the shop keeper. She started giggling in a raspy old woman sort of way. "Is that you? That handsome young man who bought my magic ring!? My, how childish you've become! Hehe!"
Indignant, Ollie stamped his foot and looked way up at the old woman with Jackson's big brown eyes. He couldn't even see over the counter!
"The ring you sold me dissolved!"
"Dissolved?" she asked the seemingly young boy. "Why, what do you mean it 'dissolved'"?
Oliver held up the bag of dust as far as little Jackson's arm could reach.
"Oh! My! You've. You've ruined it!"
"It blew up in a puff of dust!" he said so unseemly adorable, which made the old woman laugh again.
"Why, you've abused it!" She responded.
"Abused? You sold me a defected item!"
"Now, now, calm down dearie. It wasn't defective. Everyone knows you cannot abuse magic items."
"You never told me that! And anyway, how was it abused?"
"Well, first of all, as I said, everyone knows you don't abuse magic items. It needn't have been said, if you knew anything about the occult.
Secondly, if you didn't know that, then you had no business making such purchases...."
Ollie started to interrupt, but the old woman was persistent;
"AND FINALLY!" she said loudly over the rude boy, shutting him up for a second so she could finish, "you abused it by using it too many times, too quickly. That was your own fault, ya know!"
Getting angry, Oliver had to compose himself. This old woman knew all about magic, and magic was obviously real. She was his only hope of going back to normal.
Trying to remain as calm and as polite as his little energetic body would allow, Oliver said "well, can I switch back with my little....eerr....BIG....nephew," he said when he looked up, up, and way up at his former body.
"The short answer is....no! Of course not!" Putting her finger up to stop the already-interrupting Oliver;
"HOWEVER!" she said quickly and loudly. "Since you brought me the dust, there might still be one, very weak, power left in it."
Taking a deep breath, Oliver said "I'm listening...."
"You see. When a magical item has been abused like this and blasted into this sort of fine dust, it's been "burned up," so to speak. It's kind of like a large log you put on a campfire. It burns up as it grounds down into black and white ash.
"After a long night of burning and smoldering, all that's left is a sad little remnant of itself. There might still be warm embers left, as all the fuel that is the wood itself, isn't totally spent yet. It will never burn as hot as it did the night before, but it can still smolder for a while.
"Well, that's what this dust is. I might be able to extract some power from it. It might not be able to switch you guys back to your original bodies," at that, Oliver's heart sank down to the pit of his stomach,
"but it might allow you to access all the memories and personality of the brain that's still inside each body. It's hard to explain everything in exact detail. Basically, it might allow you to actually BECOME your nephew, and your nephew to actually become you! And leave you without any memory of being the person you were born as. So you really would become that little boy. Totally in mind, not just in body. And same with that boy in your body."
"But that's Connor and he's Jackson," Ollie explained.
"Who is Connor and Jackson?" she asked. That's when Oliver had to explain everything to her.
"So. A three-way swap," she said laughing, look at the ridiculous males before her. "Well, I'll see what I can do," she finished. "Just stay right here while go into the back and see what I can cook up."
So the three guys just stood around waiting. Oliver fiercely forbiding either of the boys at looking or touching anything in that shop. They were already in too big a mess as it was.
The shop lady came back bearing some news, not really good, but not really bad either.
"So. There's just enough power in this dust to cast one low-level spell. It won't be powerful enough to swap any of you back to your original places...."
Oliver dreaded this news and quickly interrupted;
"But what about-!"
"I'm not finished speaking yet, young man! Do you want me to magically fuse your jaw shut into one single unbroken hunk of bone and seal your lips shut and make them disappear into completely unbroken skin so you don't have a mouth at all? I could also take away all ability for you to make any noise at all so you wouldn't even be able to whimper!"
The thought of losing his mouth frightened Oliver into shutting up so the old crime could finish what she was about to say.
"Ok. Very good then. What I was GOING to say, is that I could wipe all memory of all of you swapping bodies altogether. All three of you would just simply be the person in mind, body, memory, skills, and experience of the person of whom you swapped with.
"So, Oliver," she continued looking down at the grownup in a small child's body, "you would BECOME Jackson. You would never know you were ever the une named Oliver. And same with Connor in Oliver's body, and Jackson as Connor."
The thought of becoming his 5 year old nephew Jackson in mind, thinking of his stater as his mom, and never having experienced high school, college, or anything else, was too much for him.
"No way!" he piped up. "No way would I want to lose myself!"
The woman went on to explain that the identity known as "Oliver" would not be "lost." That Connor would live on as Oliver, he just wouldn't know it. It will be as if he was always Oliver. And same with Oliver. He will not know the difference that was someone other than Jackson.
More arguing ensued. She had to remind them that they could never swap bodies. That it would be awkward for a 5 year old named Connor to inhabit a 30-something year old man's body who had to hold down his career and pay for his place so he wouldn't end up on the streets.
After extensive arguing, Oliver had to agree with allowing Connor to take over as himself. Jackson had agreed to become Connor. But the shop lady couldn't get Oliver to agree to take on Jackson's conscious history as Jackson. The shop lady couldn't force Oliver to change his mind, so she prepared the ring ashes for it's final ceremony.
After casting an aura over the dust, she flung it through the air. Instantly, Connor was now Oliver. He knew nothing about being a little kid and switching bodies with his uncle. He WAS the uncle now. Same with Jackson. He was now and forever to be Connor. The shop keeper, too, had forgotten what those three males had come in for. Only Oliver, the REAL Oliver now stuck with his little nephew's body, remembered everything. His past life. The swap. Everything.
"Well boys," said Adult Oliver, "you ready to go back to my place....AFTER we stop for some....ICE CREAM!!??" he asked excitedly to his little nephews riled up. Oliver always liked to get his twin nephews riled up, especially before his sister came to pick up her two boys. That's why he was always "The Fun Uncle."
"Alwight! Ice cream!" Squealed Connor. "What kind are you getting, Jackson?" asked Connor, turning to Little Boy Oliver. "I'm getting marshmallow! With sprinkles!"
Little Oliver rolled his eyes as he looked up at what was now officially his uncle! Hoping to see some of that little kid youthful sparkle in his eyes. Some sort of connection. But there was none. "Connor" just simply mussed with the twins' heads as he playfully shoved the along out the door.
Little Oliver couldn't resist the guiding hand of his former adult body. "Let's get going. We still have a ways to get home yet before your mom comes to pick you guys up."
Little Oliver asked his former body:
"Do....do you remember.....uuummm...remember being littoh," he asked, unable to say the word "little."
"What? Haha, why?" asked Big Oliver.
"I mean, do you wememboh being my age?" Little Oliver asked him.
"Hehe, little kids are so random," Big Ole ver said in amusement.
"Yeah, they are," thought Little Oliver. But this wasn't a random question by a little kid. It was a grown adult stuck as a little kid asking a grown adult that used to be him if remembers the swap.
Big Oliver continued the conversation after saying how little kids are so random;
"I mean, you're five years old, right?"
"Five and a HALF!" piped up Connor. Constantly reminding everyone that they are younger than SIX! That they still have an entire six months before their sixth birthday! Little Oliver couldn't quite place his finger on why exactly that bothered him more than just simply saying "five."
"Haha, give and a half, then," said Big Oliver. "I don't remember much about being five. And a half!" he added with a grin. "It's been so long. I only remember bits and pieces."
"How long has it been since you were five?"
"Well, let's see here," he said playfully stalling. "I'm 39. And 39 minus 5 is.....how much is that?" He asked Little Oliver.
Little Oliver sighed resisting answering. He was trying to test Jackson. To see if he still exists. "How long?"
"I guess it's too big a number for you."
Now Little Oliver was feeling even more insulted. But he had to continue playing along.
"How. Long!?" He asked in his shrimpy shrill little voice.
"Oh, jeez, kid. Sheesh. A little demanding all the sudden, aren't we? 34 years. It's been 34 years since I was your age. Now. Let's get moving."
Little Oliver was beginning to see the implications of him being the only one in the entire world that knew who he actually was. He took a long big-eyed look back towards the old shop keeper who was back to doing random shop keeper stuff behind the counter as he and his new-found twin brother were shepherded out by their Big Fun Uncle.