Sweating, not really having a plan, John wandered back into the hotel room. This had seemed like such a nice, pleasant place in a really creepy, Victorian horror sort of way...
Seeing the telephone, he remembered that the (huge, kind of scary looking) guy at the front desk had said he would be on duty all night, and to call him if he needed anything-- or something like that.
John picked up the receiver.
"Front Desk! Jake here!" came the (cheerful) voice through the line.
"This is John in room--" his mind momentarily blanked. "Room zero-- the one right above the front desk!"
"Is something wrong? I do hope that the roof isn't leaking-- we just had someone here about that the other week," came Jake's voice, sounding apologetic.
"What?" John, involuntarily, glanced at the ceiling. It looked about the same as when he'd gone to bed. A little higher, maybe, but otherwise the same. "No, there isn't any water leaking. The ceiling is fine."
"Is the room too cold or too warm? I know this house could really use--"
"No, the temperature is just fine--"
"Are your neighbors loud? I know how college kids can get, but these looked like responsible kids."
"No, no, nothing like that!" John insisted, feeling himself growing impatient. He felt more frustrated than angry. The kind of frustration kids feel when adults don't take them seriously. "Look, just listen! I changed! I woke up different!"
There was silence from the other end.
"Hello?" John asked, wondering if he'd been cut off.
"Sorry, I was just waiting for you to continue," came Jake's patient sounding voice.
"Continue?" John asked, confused.
"Yes," replied Jake patiently. "Please tell me what the problem is."
"I already told you-- I am different! I changed while I was asleep!"
"Sir, I really don't understand. How did you change?"
"Wha-- I became a kid! A young boy! I went to bed as an adult."
"And so what is the problem?"
"The problem is, I am supposed to be an adult!"
"No, no-- you are supposed to be a kid!" insisted Jake, sounding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We analyzed the situation while you were asleep. Your luggage wasn't lost, it was you. While you were on the flight, you lost your identity. You aren't an adult man on a trip to Boston-- you are a ten year old boy on his way back from visiting his father in New York to his mother in L.A. She has an audition lined up for you and your sister for a television commercial. If you would please go back to bed we can finish sorting out just exactly what you look like and why you wound up here in Boston. Oh, and we will be receiving your clothes within the hour."
John felt his eyes bugging out at this news. Of all the answers he had expected to get... well, this one hadn't even been on the list.
"Now, please, hang up the telephone and go back to bed," advised Jake. "If you have trouble getting back to sleep, we can always gas the room for you."