Timothy Adventures

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Once again, Timothy found himself shivering alone in a place he desperately wanted to get out of. He looked around for some mode of transportation, and saw nothing.
“Oh great, now how am I gonna get out of here?” He muttered, wishing something good would actually happen to him. Being able to see his feet under his stomach for starters.
“This guy that I look like is starting to really gross me out... I want to go back to normal. I’ve done it before, but how?” He remembered his sudden change from Adam back to himself, and from a bug to this.
“How did I do that?” He whispered and tried to remember. All he could come up with was a strong desire to either be himself again, or have a way to escape.
“Maybe that’s it! I just have to really dedicate myself to wanting to look like myself again...” He mused and clenched his eyes shut. He imagined his exact appearance, down to the clothes he was wearing.

He felt a sudden tingling sensation, and found that he had shrunk to his ordinary height, now looking like a fat midget. His Henry’s Carpet Cleaners shirt hung to the floor and his pants were on the ground. He hitched them up, and holding the waistband to an acceptable distance from the ground, he tried again. After a few moments of nothing, his hair grew longer and blonde.

“Now we’re getting somewhere...” he exclaimed and focused again.
Eventually Timothy was back to normal, besides the clothes. He couldn’t get them to do anything. So, desperately holding up the jeans, he made his way down the road.

The restaurant was as busy as usual. Patsy Cooper held onto five trays and swerved around the hordes of families with small children and elderly grandparents as she tried to find each table. After all were brought to their respective groups, she straightened her skyblue diner uniform, adjusted her little hat proclaiming Country Kitchen Diner, and headed back to the kitchen for another armful of trays. Before she could load up, Debbie Jones, another waitress stopped her.
“Hey shug, I was wondering if maybe you could take over the register for me. I need to get out of here early, you know, it’s the kid’s birthday and I need to get working on that cake...”
“Oh, sure.” Patsy said cheerfully and put the trays down for somebody else to take care of, “I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re a lifesaver, thanks!” Debbie flung an arm around her as a half-hug and left.

Patsy went up to the desk the cash register sat on. It was right next to the door, which was constantly being opened while families came and went. The designated uniform for all waitresses was a t-shirt and a skirt, which barely kept her warm at all. Cold air blew at her, from both in front of her and above, because the manager always kept the fans going. Shivering slightly, Patsy smiled warmly at a little boy who came into the diner alone.
“Hey cutie, where are your parents?”
The little boy shrugged and looked around.
“Are they in here? I can help you find them.”
The boy shook his head.
“Are you lost?”
He nodded.
“Is your house close to here? My shift is almost over so I could take you home.”
The boy frowned and shook his head again.
“No, I live pretty far from here.” He said, his voice sounding surprisingly older than he appeared.
“Oh, how did you get here then?” Patsy asked, and noticed his clothes. They didn’t fit him at all and were very dirty. “Did you run away from home?”
“No, I’m trying to get home. I was brought here by some people and now... I want to go home!” The boy cried, his voice barely audible over the crashing noises from the kitchen.
“Oh my, were you kidnaped? I can call the police-“
“No, it’s ok. I just need directions to a bus stop or something.”
“Well, I can do that. Even better- I’ll take you there myself. Are you hungry, because I can get something for you.”
He shrugged, and Patsy motioned for one of the other waitresses to come over.
“Hey, could you bring him a bit of food?”
The waitress nodded, and returned quickly with a bowl of macaroni and cheese.
“I hope you ain’t lactose-intolerant, kid.” She said and handed it to him. The little boy sat on one of the benches by the door and dug in.

After he was finished, he looked around for a place to put the bowl. Patsy gave him another warm smile and took it for him.
“I’ll be right back, once I put this away we can go.”
The boy nodded and waited for her while she dropped it off in the kitchen. She signed out, and came back to get him.
“Are you ready to go?”
He nodded, and followed her to her car.
She opened the passenger side door for him, then got in on the other side.
“Ok, buckle up. We have about a half hour drive.”
The little boy nodded and put on his seat belt.

They drove in silence for a while, until Patsy decided to find out more about him.
“So, what’s your name?”
“Timothy Tosmall.”
“Oh. That’s a cute name. So... uh... how old are you?”
“Thirteen.”
Patsy blinked in surprise, he seemed to be about seven to her!
“Wow, so you’re in what grade?”
“Seventh.”
“Gee, that’s middle school. Do you like it?”
“Sure...”

It continued on in this way for a while. The sky was very dark by the time they arrived at the bus station. Timothy got out quickly, and Patsy showed him where to buy a ticket. She came with him to the booth. An old man was sleeping inside, a magazine on his lap and his computer displayed a picture of Mickey Mouse dancing. Timothy stood on his tiptoes and tapped on the window.
“Uh, hello?” He asked, and the man woke with a start. Seeing Timothy, he calmed down and grunted,
“Whaddaya want?”
“A ticket.”
“A ticket!” The man repeated, as if it was some outrageous demand involving lots of money, traveling the world on a unicycle and juggling monkeys. “What do you need a ticket for?”
“To go home. How much will it cost?”
“Where are you going?” The man grunted and shuffled some papers around as if he was actually doing anything.
“Home.” Timothy stated simply.
The man mistook his answer for a snotty remark.
Oh yea? Well, where is this here ‘home’ of yours?” He asked, as if the idea of a minor with a home was laughable and unlikely.
“Michigan.”
“Michigan.” The man repeated in a high-pitched voice very unlike Timothy’s.
“Yes, Michigan. I’d like a ticket to Kalamazoo.”
“Kalamazoo? There ain’t no such place!”
“I beg to differ.”
“Oh really? Well, I beg to... uh... not differ!” The man retorted, snorting his nose as if he had a sever cold, and smirked triumphantly at Timothy.
“You see, there really is a Kalamazoo. I have lived there for quite a few years.”
“Oh. Really?”
“Really.”
“Huh. Go figure. Ok, that’ll be $430 little guy.”
“What!”
“Pay up or I’ll call the cops.”
Timothy rummaged his pockets frantically, but found nothing but a stale mint.
“I... don’t have-“ Patsy cut him off.
“Here’s your money sir.” She handed him a wad of bills, wrapped in a rubber band.
Timothy stared dumfounded at the money as it went from her hands to his. The man examined it, and after a long time, he passed Timothy the ticket. Patsy led him quickly away from the man to where the buses arrive.
“Miss, I have no idea how to repay you...”
“Oh, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I can’t just take it from you! Give me your address and someday I’ll pay you back every cent, plus interest.”
“Oh my... please. Don’t worry about it.”
“I can’t take this money then!”
Just then the bus pulled up. The door opened, sending a blast of frigid air at them both, the headlights bright against the pitch-black sky.
“Oh, alright, but don’t feel like you have to.”
Patsy scribbled her address on a piece of paper and handed it to Timothy.
“Thanks for everything! Good-bye!” Timothy hugged her and climbed onto the bus. The doors closed, and the bus pulled away. Patsy watched it go.

Timothy sat on a dirty seat in the back of the bus. He tried to sleep, but the man in front of him wreaked of rotten cabbage, and the lady across the aisle kept turning on her overhead light. So Timothy stared out the window, wishing he was home in his bed, wishing he knew how he is able change shape like this, but most of all, wishing he could get some pants that fit him.