I remembered my mother talking about Ms. Barnes some time ago. She was talking about her one night. I heard my mom complain to a friend on the telephone
that Ms. Barnes got mad when a shipment of something or another didn't arrive and she went into a tantrum.
What did she call her, I thought and a little light bulb went over my head. She called Ms. Barnes an infant.
I looked at Ms. Barnes standing there and I imagined how she would look as a baby. It was only a passing thought, not even a wish. I didn't think it meant anything
until I noticed something strange about Ms. Barnes.
Her face went slack and she closed her eyes rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. When she looked up, I noticed that her face looked fresher. The small
lines that started to form around her eyes were smoothed out, as well as, the lines around her mouth.
"I feel so...so..." she muttered and suddenly her height dropped by half, like she just stepped in a hole in the floor. The sleeves of her blouse hung over her arms. In
fact her entire blouse that once fit her so well was now all wrinkled and shapeless. The skirt that went up to her knees now dragged on the floor. When she looked
up, I saw that she was now much younger. When she came to the door she was a woman about thirty. Now she was a girl who was about half that age, maybe
more.
I realized that my passing thought was now a wish. I didn't mean to do it. It just came into my head. I was just about to stop it and reverse my wish when two
things happened; my mom's car was pulling into the driveway and Ms. Barnes fell into her empty pile of clothes and looked up at me. She had become what I
wished and what my mother said she was; an infant.