Will couldn't help but grin to himself as he rode his ill gotten motorcycle through town. He felt oddly comfortable, as if he belonged in the saddle of this particular hog. Of course, his round gut also reflected this. He also liked the way the wind blew through his black and grey beard. He was tempted to take his helmet off to let the wind blow over his bare scalp as well, but decided against it. For all he knew, the lack of helmet could get him into trouble with a cop or something, and that was the exact last thing he wanted to happen. He was content to just ride around town, hunting for a store to fetch some cigars and cigarettes from with the money he'd stolen from his father. He still had a few in his pocket, but wanted to have some extras, just in case.
Eventually, he noticed a grocery store that had several tobacco logos in the window. That would do for now. There was something about smoking that just made him feel so adult. He knew he was addicted, but he didn't really care. He liked smoking anyway, so no problem, right? Will stepped off his bike, being sure to take the keys with him. No sense in losing his new motorcycle the same way the last guy had. As he walked to the door, he noticed a 30-something woman with her dark hair pulled back into a pony tail struggling to lift heavy boxes from a nearby door into the back of a truck. She sat it down and breathed heavily, glancing at her watch.
"Dammit, where is he?" she muttered to herself.
Will ignored her. Not his problem. He stepped into the store and saw there was a line of about five people at the checkout counter. Will stood there and glowered at the next person in line.
The man fidgeted nervously under Will's intimidating presence. "Oh, uh, you can go in front of me..."
There was some grumbling from the line, but it quickly subsided when the laid eyes on Will. He was really loving this whole big, bad thug thing. Even with a bald head and round belly, people were still scared of him.
Will stepped up to the counter and growled at the cashier. "Gimme a pack of Marlboros," The gravely tone of his own voice surprised Will. He was pretty sure it hadn't been like that last night.
The cashier hastily grabbed the pack and, in almost no time, Will was back outside again. Well, it seemed being rough, tough, and intimidating really had its perks. That's when Will stopped short.
Parked right behind Will's motorcycle was a cop car, with a pair of the boys in blue themselves looking the bike over. Well, that wasn't good.
Will quickly looked around for a place to hide. As tough as he believe he was, it was stupid to think he could take on two armed cops. He briefly thought about turning right around and walking right back into the store, but dismissed the idea. That would be too obvious. It would be the first place they would look for him, seeing as how his bike was parked right in front of the place. He quickly turned and walked down the sidewalk. Perhaps he would find a better place to hide in that direction.
"Hey, you!"
Will jumped a little. Then he noticed the woman with the pony tail scowling in his direction. "Are you the guy?"
Will looked to either side of him. "The.... What guy?"
The woman gestured at the pile of boxes around her. "The guy that's supposed to help me move all these boxes. Is that you?"
"Yes...?"
She put her hands on her hips in a manner most annoyed. "Finally! I've been waiting two hours for you to show up. Two. Hours. So I eventually thought to myself, 'Well, hell, I'm gonna have to do all this by myself!' Do you know how friggin' heavy this stuff is?"
"Er, yeah. Um, sorry. Wrong address, or something. I'll get those." Will bent down and lifted a box she'd been struggling to carry earlier. He was expecting it to be fairly heavy, but he actually found it to be somewhat light. It seemed he still had muscle under all this flab. "Um, where do you want this?"
She pointed to the pick up parked with its tail close to the door of a building labeled Jo's Welding Co. "Put it in the back of the pickup. We're going to have to take a couple trips or more. And be careful, please. Those pieces are expensive."
Will didn't care as long as he was busy. Hopefully it would keep the police off his back.
He started loading the boxes in, keeping an eye on the bike the whole time. The police indeed seemed to go inside the grocery store. Will remembered that he hadn't exactly been subtle when he'd been in there earlier. The clerk was bound to remember him.
"Alright, that's good for now." The woman slammed the tailgate shut, locking the boxes in the tail of the truck. "Come on."
"Huh?"
The woman opened the driver side door and looked back at Will. "Well, I need somebody to help me unload them when we get there. Come on."
Hesitantly, Will squeezed himself into the passenger seat. With any luck, the police would be gone by the time he got back. If he got back. Honestly, he had no idea just what was going on.
After a couple tries, the woman finally got the truck started and pulled out. There was some awkward silence between the two for several minutes.
"So," said the woman. "What's your name?"
"My name?"
"Yeah, your name. Or did you forget that, too."
"It's Will." He wasn't sure what else to say. He was to nervous to come up with anything clever.
She nodded. "Gotcha. I'm Jo, by the way."
Will looked at Jo curiously. "Jo. You mean like Jo's Welding?"
"So he does have a brain," Jo muttered. "Yeah, that's me. Seriously, did your boss tell you anything?"
"Uhm, no. No he did not." Will thought he may be able to exploit this. Just perhaps.
Jo sighed. "That makes sense. He probably gave you the wrong address in the first place. Okay, so here's what's up. I'm supposed to be setting up a piece at the Arts Museum here in town. The thing was too big and and too expensive to take as a whole. So I ended up cutting it apart and now we're taking it to the museum ourselves. I'll put it back together once we get there."
Will nodded slowly. "Gotcha."
"But a guy like you probably doesn't really care about that kind of stuff." She sighed again. "That's okay. You'll be wanting your payment. In case your boss didn't tell you, the way this works is I'll be paying you once all the pieces are safe and sound in the museum. And when I say you, I mean you. The check has your name on it. That alright with you?"
"Yeah! Great." Well, there was his money problem solved. He had somehow accidentally gotten himself employed. He was really getting a hold of this whole adulthood thing.
Will's curse took action once again, aging him form 45 to 48. Entering his late forties, more greys popped up in the hair all over his body. There was barely any black left in his beard now, only just enough to suggest he wasn't as old as you might think on a first glance. His gut seemed to shrink a little bit, in keeping with his new job as a manual laborer. His muscles bulked a little bit, having the overall effect of making him look more square than round. He still had the large belly that hung over his waistband, though. The skin of his hands became cracked and calloused, as his fingers became short and stubby. The lines on his face deepened, the lines in his large forehead becoming pronounced, as well as the crows feet at the corners of his eyes.
His body wasn't the only thing that was changing, though. For the first time since he was first cursed, Will started to think more like an adult, and less like a 13 year old. He considered it would be prudent to save some of the money he had and whatever Jo gave him and not spend it all on booze and cigarettes. Fart and dick jokes suddenly became less funny to him and today's pop music was more noisy than catchy. He began to have an appreciation for woman closer to his apparent age. As such, Sasha went from being his girlfriend to a little girl in his mind. Conversely, he began to find Jo more and more attractive.
Will shook his head. What was going on with him? When did these changes happen? What triggered them? At least his safety belt wasn't as tight as it was a second ago.
"Everything alright, Will?"
"Yeah. Yeah, fine."