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Janet followed Martin and Lulu up the driveway to the front door of the Littlejohn home. She was still coming down from the adrenaline rush from the heist at the lab, the destruction of which she was directly responsible for. The professional and legal implications staggered her.
I just blew up my own job! It was for a good reason, yes, multiple good reasons. Restoring Mrs. Littlejohn (and, now, Dr. Littlejohn) for one, keeping the formula out of the hands of Hilton and the military, for another. Still, if anyone discovered my role in this caper, I would most certainly go to prison.
Martin took Lulu’s keys and unlocked the door as Lulu kept a firm grip on the miniaturized Dr. & Mrs. Littlejohn, holding them with both hands as they in turn each held one of the two vials of restoration reagents with both arms. Martin held the door open for Lulu and then Janet to go inside.
Janet’s appreciation of the Littlejohns’ spacious home was interrupted by some puzzling alterations. Strips of blue electrical tape on the floor ran the lengths of each room and hallway. Furniture had been moved against the walls. Every corner seemed to feature either scorch marks or a puddle of water or some unidentifiable stain.
“I need to lie down,” said Martin, closing the door behind him and looking around at the disarrayed furniture.
“Take my room,” Lulu said, pointing down the hall. “It’s the furthest away from all this chaos.”
Martin’s performance during the lab raid left a lot to be desired. None of them (except perhaps Mrs. Littlejohn) were suited for criminal activity requiring improvisation. Dr. Littlejohn had to revise his plan several times in the face of unforeseen obstacles. They were now all out of a job, and it was time to find out if it had been worth it.
Lulu went into the kitchen, carrying her tiny parents, in preparation for applying the restoration formula to them. I hope there’s enough reagent for both of them. No, all three of them!
On the way back from the lab the others explained that Richard had not been out of town caring for a loved one as he had told Janet but rather he had been at the Littlejohns’ house the whole time, and that he had miniaturized himself!
“Wait, where’s Richard?” yelped Janet.
“Check the Christmas village under the tree,” Lulu said over her shoulder.
Janet hurried over to the miniature village—complete with a model railroad—laid out next to the base of the Christmas tree. She abruptly stopped about halfway, suddenly conscious of her footsteps resounding on the hardwood floor. Taking mincing steps the rest of the way, she whispered vehemently, “Richard?”
“The triumphant heroes have returned!” Richard’s voice sounded tinny but not as faint as Janet had expected. She craned her head down and scanned the village for a miniature Richard. Her eye was caught by movement near the Nativity scene. “Hail and well met!”
Janet dropped to her knees to have a closer look, briefly rocking Richard where he stood among the shepherds and their flock. He was wearing some sort of makeshift robe made from brown material and he had bandages on his hands and head. He was using a miniaturized bullhorn to make himself heard.
Omigosh, he’s like a little mouse! A brilliant, passionate mouse!
It was a lot for Janet to take in. Thwarting Vivienne and Hilton was drastic but relatively easy to understand. It had been less than a full day that she had learned that the still-experimental miniaturization process had been applied to a person, Mrs. Littlejohn. Since then she had seen both Littlejohns in miniature and now Richard, her best work friend, was standing before her not quite five inches tall.
The futures of all these people depended upon the reagents that Dr. Littlejohn had hastily synthesized. How many times had she seen attempts at restoration end in explosive failure?
“Richard!” she exclaimed, forgetting to moderate her voice. “You’re injured!”
He nodded ruefully. “A man should have scars to remind him of his folly.”
She remembered that he said he had been attacked by a bird. “Were you already . . . small when the bird attacked you?”
“Yes. Les put me in Dolores’s cage. Dolores is a parakeet. Was a parakeet.”
Janet’s eyes went wide. “Why did he do that?”
“He was distraught, provoked beyond reason. Lindy had tricked him into thinking I had slept with her.”
“So, Mrs. Littlejohn was . . . the ‘loved one’ you were caring for?” Janet had hoped to keep clear of the marital problems she had just learned the Littlejohns had been having, but if Richard was involved, she might become involved herself.
“Yes. When Les began neglecting her needs, she turned to me as a confidant. Not only was I more emotionally available than Les, I shared Lindy’s love of the written word. It was a literary affair, not a physical one.”
There was undoubtedly more to the story, but the whole thing seemed terribly reckless. That was not a trait she would have previously attributed to Richard, but now she had to admit it had been there all along. Her own recklessness that evening was also something of a revelation. She was coming to view recklessness as an unstable element: capable of great disruption but not without its uses.
“But this affair, is it over?”
“Quite so. Lindy has made it very clear that she holds me in the deepest contempt, a judgment of which I am unarguably deserving. Like I said,” holding up his bandaged hands, “folly.”
Was it also folly when Richard “disclosed” his feelings for her in the middle of the heist? So what if it was? Did that mean that an affair with her was just as doomed as his with Mrs. Littlejohn had been? Her newly awakened recklessness was screaming “Fuck it!” The events of the evening had acquired their own momentum, but she wasn’t ready to be carried away by it. Yet.
She leaned down to get a better look at Richard. The preciousness of his small size almost made her gasp. She hardened her face into seriousness, fighting to hide any hint of supplication or hope. “Richard, did you mean what you said right after I set the thermal tank to maximum pressure?”
He set his chin in determination. “I did. Your diligence as a scientist is matched only by your resourcefulness in a crisis and your compassion for those in need. I am proud to call you a colleague and I would be honored to be called your friend.”
Struggling to keep any emotion that might betray her out of her voice, “Just friends?”
Richard dropped to one knee and tilted his head back. She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized his miniature face. “Janet Colgate, it is my profound hope that you would take me as your partner, in science and in life.”
She exhaled and finally let her face show the warmth of joy she felt. Beaming, she lowered her open palms into the Nativity scene next to Richard. His smile was perhaps a touch too self-satisfied as he stepped into her hands, but she didn’t care a bit. Oh, his tiny feet feel so delicate! It had never occurred to Janet before that the miniaturization process could be applied to people, but now she couldn’t imagine not doing so. Everyone should have this opportunity!
She slowly brought Richard up to her face, just close enough that her glasses could still keep him in focus. His footing was precarious on the soft and shifting surface, but he was determined to remain standing as she brought him in close. That the object of such strong feelings could be concentrated in her own two hands was simply breathtaking. Is this really happening?
“Richard, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say something like that! And coming on top of all this drama with Hilton and the Littlejohns, it’s almost too much!”
“We mortals have no control over when these moments present themselves. It is but for us to recognize such moments and choose to act, or not.”
That’s not very scientific, but who cares. “Well, your choice makes me extremely happy!” Janet wanted to kiss him, but she wasn’t sure how a miniature person would react to her approaching mouth. She opted instead to press Richard against the side of her cheek and jaw, beneath the frames of her glasses.
Janet was feeling his entire body at the same time. She had often wondered what it would be like to touch his arms, his back, his chest, his face. Now she held all of that between her sensitive face and her no less sensitive hand. She was also touching his legs, his belly, his hips, and his butt.
This is incredible! I hope he’s not too freaked out by this. Oh wow, I can feel his tiny heartbeat! Strong but not too fluttery. He’s not moving. Am I making this weird?
She pulled him away from her cheek and back under her gaze. He was no longer standing but rather sitting on her palm and reclining his head and torso against her upturned fingers. He didn’t look too disoriented and he was still smiling.
Janet marveled at Richard’s shrunken form until she suddenly became self-conscious of her staring. “It still can’t quite believe you deliberately miniaturized yourself without a successfully-tested method of restoration. It goes against dozens of lab protocols.”
“I know, Janet,” he replied, throwing his hands up in resignation.
“I’m guessing you didn’t bother to record your vital statistics before or after the miniaturization, am I right?” He nodded. “What about in the days since?”
“That’s what I love about you, Janet,” he said, shaking his head in admiration, “you’re always considering the bigger picture.”
Janet took the compliment in stride. “We should start tracking that as soon as possible. For all we know you might be slowly returning to your normal size, or you might be shrinking even more!”
She started mentally compiling a list of tests to subject Richard to until she remembered that they were planning to restore him that evening. If there was enough reagent. If Dr. Littlejohn had remembered the formula correctly and synthesized it properly.
“Richard,” she inquired delicately, “have you given any thought to what you might do if we cannot restore you to your proper size?”
He shook his head. “I always just trusted in Les and in Science.”
“We need to be prepared for every outcome. If you’re stuck like this, where do you think you might stay?”
He stroked his chin contemplatively. “Despite tonight’s triumph, I know that I have worn out my welcome here. The past few days have impressed upon me how much we take for granted in our comfortable existence atop the food chain, astride the environment we have selfishly transformed for our own convenience. I have also been reminded of something I have always known, to wit, that to thrive and not merely survive one needs fellowship, companionship,” gesturing toward Janet, “relationship. Janet, if I am fated to live out the rest of my days in this diminished state, I cannot imagine a better sanctuary than staying with you, puzzling out the mysteries of the universe together.”
Janet swayed a bit at the conclusion of Richard’s soliloquy, then she remembered that she mustn’t drop him and righted herself. Is that what they mean by “swooning”? Did I just swoon?
“Why Richard, that’s very flattering.” Her mind began to fill with visions of how she might accommodate a miniature Richard in her home, what changes she would have to make. Tiny ladders, a miniature dining area, some kind of bedpan arrangement. The blue strips on the floor of the Littlejohn home suddenly made a lot of sense.
She made the unconscious decision to get up from her kneeling position and move to the dining table. Without warning or hesitation, she brought one open hand underneath Richard while she wrapped the fingers of her other hand around him, leaving only his head and feet protruding from her fist. She held him before her at chest level as she walked absently to the dining room.
“I don’t know if I could provide anything like that,” nodding toward the scorched ruin of the dollhouse as they passed. “But I can probably do better than letting you room with the Three Wise Men.”
“I require nothing. Your presence is shelter enough.”
“That’s sweet of you to say,” she said, setting him gently onto the dining table, “but I was raised with certain standards of hospitality.” Taking a seat she laid one arm atop the other in front of her on the tablecloth, then leaned forward to bring her face down close to Richard, who was reclining against a holiday candle holder.
“I’m thinking something portable, so you can be in any room and not have to ride in people’s pockets.”
“I have never actually ridden in anyone's pocket. I’m curious to see what it might be like.”
Janet blushed at the thought of putting Richard in one of her pockets. To feel his tiny weight against her chest or thigh . . . just her little secret. Her fingers twitched as she gazed at the little man in front of her. Not now. Not here.
“It should be solid for security and privacy, windows in every direction for visibility, at least one chair with lap and shoulder belts, and it should look like something innocuous, like a lunchbox.”
Richard looked up sharply.
“I-I-I mean, not a real lunchbox, of course, just something that could be mistaken for, um, something like that. I would never—I mean, that’s not how I think of you, no, uh, oh crumb.”
Richard held his arms high, beaming a generous smile. “Don’t worry, Janet, I know you too well to suspect such things. I find your concern for camouflage to be wise and very considerate.”
Janet gladly took Richard’s reassurances. She wanted to stay in that world where she could protect and provide for him, where her attention to detail was needed and appreciated. Now that she had him, she wanted to keep him close.
“Thank you, Richard. This is all just so fascinating. I can’t tell you how privileged I feel just to be part of it, and to be able to work with you, at whatever size.”
He just held that beatific smile and gazed up at her with pure gratification. She wished she could hold onto that moment forever.
Lulu came strolling around the corner holding a reagent applicator in each hand, her smile foreshadowing what she was about to say.
“It worked! Both Mom and Dad have been restored and neither exploded within three minutes, so they have reached limitless stabilization!”
“I knew Les would come through!” shouted Richard.
“That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Janet. “Dr. Littlejohn must be so relieved.”
“Put Richard on the floor,” said Lulu. “Mom would go apeshit if he returned to full size on her vintage table.”
Janet nodded and laid her open hands on the tablecloth next to Richard. She tried to savor the sensations of his tiny footsteps on her palms, knowing that it would be the last time. Once he was secured in her hands, she slowly transferred him to the floor, perhaps more slowly than strictly necessary. Letting Richard step out of her hands, she stood up and took a couple of steps backward.
Lulu crouched down and pointed both applicators at his head. “So long, Tiny Richard,” she said, squeezing the plungers.
The reagents combined effervescently and flowed down the length of Richard’s miniature body. It lathered on its own, resembling a swarm of bubble-shaped insects trying to cover every available surface. Suddenly Richard started trembling, and Janet worried that he might fall over. Then he expanded rapidly, shooting up to his normal size.
Janet pulled out her phone and started the timer. Richard patted himself all over, then sat down at the table opposite to where Janet had been sitting.
“C’mon Janet,” said Lulu, heading back to the kitchen.
Janet instead sat back down, laying her phone on the table and reaching across to take Richard’s hand.
“Don’t you want to get out of range,” asked Richard, “in case . . . you know?”
“I have faith in the science,” Janet replied. “Anyway, if these really are your last three minutes before you explode, I’m not going to let you spend them alone.”
A tear rolled down Richard’s cheek, and one might have rolled down Janet’s, as well.
“Okay, see you in three,” said Lulu, leaving them alone together.
“You don’t even have safety goggles,” said Richard, his voice breaking. “That’s against lab protocols.”
“These are all I need,” said Janet, pointing to her glasses.
Everything else they had to say they said with their eyes as the timer crawled inexorably toward three minutes.