It started as a hypothetical. Not even that. I wasn't even the one who introduced the idea. And now our lives have been flipped, traded, intertwined. But I'm getting ahead of myself... Many decades back, whilst backpacking through Europe, I picked up a pair of of totems from an antique shop. I didn't understand the significance of them back then, I just thought they looked like unusual knick-knacks. The person who sold them to me surely didn't know either, I'm sure they can't have. Or they wouldn't have sold them to me for so cheap...
Those totems still sit on my bookshelf alongside all the other various tchotchkes I've acquired over the years. I'd never even thought to look into their origins. Why would I? They were mass-produced tat for all I knew. It wasn't until my grandson, Greg, took a sudden interest in them. I was looking after him for the week while his mother went on one of her business trips. And as soon as he arrived, he made a bee-line for my bookshelf, and plucked them right off the top. He then went off on some tirade about a documentary he'd seen on the internet about old-world rituals. Apparently, these totems were used as part of a ritual that would allow two people to air grievances by putting themselves in the other's position, and working through their issues together. Or that's how it sounded to me.
"Nuh-uh," Greg sighed with a shake of his head. "The guy on YouTube literally said they swapped minds."
"Exactly. They swapped their thoughts and troubles to better understand each other's position, and come to a mutual agreement."
"You're not getting it, Gramps." Greg took the totems, and swapped them around in his hands. "They swapped for real life, body and mind. They each became the other!"
"Don't be ridiculous," I spat, upset by the very notion. "It's clearly metaphorical."
Suddenly, a mischievous smile crept across Greg's face. "If it's so metaphorical, why don't we give it a try?"
"Excuse me?"
"The vid details everything you need to perform the ritual, and it's super easy. Then we can see if it's literal or metaphorical. It'd be a fascinating learning experience. You're always saying I need more of those."
I did always say that, I thought with a grumble. But the whole situation sounded ridiculous. I mean, a magical ritual to swap bodies with another? It was like out of a sci-fi novel. And I didn't want some hokey voodoo bullshit messing up my kitchen. Yet Greg was oddly persistent in his desire to perform the ritual. He'd tempt me with tales of regained youth, and the experience of a lifetime. Of course, I'd counter with the fact that he'd be stuck as an old man for lord knows how long. Not to mention, he still had to go to school the following week.
It was before dinner when Greg finally wore me down. If he truly wanted to do this, then I could tell there was no stopping him. Plus, it did mean the dinner table was cleaned up in minutes, which was a nice bonus. All that was left were the two totems, and a few tealight candles. Thankfully, there was no weird mumbo jumbo like sacrificial blood or what not. There was, however, a blend of herbs and flora mixed with spring water that Greg had so helpfully pre-prepared. He really wanted to do this ritual, huh. We rubbed the mix into our palms, and clasped the other's hands. Then we read aloud the incantation from Greg's phone. He'd written it out phonetically, and I think I still messed up a few of the words. But I guess it didn't matter because, as soon as we said the last word, the candles extinguined.
In the darkness, the totems had an ethereal glow to them that I'd never noticed before. A glow that seemed to strengthen until, before I knew it, the whole room was bathed in light. Then the totems emittted a fine mist. Each of us backed away as the mist flooded the room, lapping at our ankles. There was no stopping it from flooding out of the totems. I looked at my grandson, a faint, blue glow surrounded him. I looked to my hands, and there was a similar, yellow glow that seemed to eminate from within me. Before I could question it, a blast of wind formed around me, sending the mist spiralling around us.
I felt a weirdness in my body. I looked up at Greg, who was surprised to say the least. He was the one who believed in the ritual in the first place, yet he was now in complete shock. The light was pulsing around him, the light playing tricks on my eyes. He almost looked like he was getting taller, his shirt riding up his body. A dark shadow spread across his cheeks, and swept down his neck. Before I could speak, he was swallowed up by the fog. I couldn't see anything outside of the fog. But I could still hear Greg as he panicked.
"Gramps!?" He cried out. "Are you still there?"
"I'm still here, son!" I cried out myself. I tried to step forward, to reach out towards his voice, but I felt like I was glued to the spot. That glowing from my body had increased in brightness, almost blinding me as I gazed at my hands. Maybe it was my imagination, but underneath the light, my skin seemed to squirm and shift, the grooves, and callouses, and wrinkles seemingly smoothing out and vanishing before my very eyes.
All over, I felt that bizarre tightening. Especially around my waist as my rounded stomach began to deflate. I grasped at it in vain, assuming that I was melting away to nothing! I was slimming down at an alarming rate, I would finally have been able to see my feet without bending past my gut if my pants hadn't fallen to the ground in the process! As the rapid weight loss came to a halt, leaving me as rake-thin as the teen who started all of this, I felt another peculiar notion. Underneath my tent of a shirt, a wave of squirming overcame me. I jammed a hand under the fabric, feeling smooth, supple, and completely hair-free skin. Then something brushed against the nape of my neck. With a jolt, I reached up to swat it away, only to encounter hair. Thick, shaggy tendrils that tickled my shoulders, and bounced around my ears. I patted around my head, feeling more hair than I'd probably had in decades! A sharp tug of the roots made me wince in pain, and reveal that it was all too real...
All at once, the mist fell to the floor, and I collapsed into a chair along with it. I stared at my hands. They were slender, not a single callouse or wrinkle damaged the skin. My arm hair looked sparser, and was back to its reddish sheen. Any age spots, or roughness had simply vanished. I scrambled up to my face, feeling that same unnerving, soft skin, and a proper jawline no longer swamped by additional chins. The usual grit of stubble, and, to my horror, my prized mustache had all but vanished. Not even a wimpy attempt at a 'stache remained. I pulled myself to my feet, wobbling slightly from the unusual events. I was so slim, my clothes had practically fallen off of me.
Finally, my attention was drawn to Greg. He was stood in the center of the room, staring vacantly at the wall. I almost couldn't believe my eyes. Where I had been reduced to a shrimp of a lad, he had taken the full brunt of my maturity. He looked almost unrecognisable. His beautiful hair had all but fallen out, leaving behind a smooth dome dotted with age spots, and the stubbly shadow of what remained. A scruffy, white beard framed his round face. Wrinkles clawed at his eyes, and dented his large forehead. His clothes had ripped off in the change, leaving him almost naked, his underwear clinging on for dear life underneath the paunch he'd developed. More white hairs spread across his chest, and down his flabbier stomach. Surprisingly, several tattoos graced his arms, already slightly faded. Or had he always had those? Surely he wasn't old enough... Before this whole mess, anyway. "It worked..." I finally heard him utter. His voice was hoarse, and gravelly. Even deeper than mine ever was. "I can't believe it..."
Cautiously, I approached him from the side. I still could barely believe my eyes, that this heavyset, old man was actually Greg. And there I was, practically a beanpole of a kid. As I got closer, I noticed he was now a few inches taller than myself, enough that I had to gaze up at his dull stare. I rested a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, but didn't turn to face me. Finally, I yanked him into a tight hug. "Oh, my poor boy," I sighed. "You didn't deserve this..."
"The ritual was real..."
"Yes, it was," I replied, stroking his bald head as I would have done to calm him down when he had hair. Unsurprisingly, it didn't help. I shook my head, and tutted. "Don't worry, son. You said this thing wasn't permanent, right?" I grabbed the totems off of the table, clacking them together. "We just have to set everything up again."
The clacking must have woken Greg from his trance, as he reached out and grabbed me by the arm. "Now hang on a minute," He growled, his rough voice cutting through the room. "What's the rush, Gramps? I thought you wanted to be a teenager again?"
"I never said that," I rebutted. "I said I liked the thought of it. But I could never accept rejuvination if it meant you were the source of my youth. So let's do the creepy fog magic again, and forget any of this ever happened."
Before I could place the totems back on the table, Greg suddenly snatched them from my hands. I tried to take them back, but he merely shifted away from me, putting them on the highest shelf he could muster. "You're not thinking this through properly."
I shook my head in disbelief, and cried "Me? Clearly you're not thinking this through! You can't seriously be suggesting we stay like this!"
"We have a whole week before Mom gets back from her trip. That's a full week where you can have a break from being old."
"A school week," I replied. "I'm not going to school for you. It sounds more like a break for you to goof off and do nothing!"
"Well, it is one of the few benefits I get as a retiree," Greg said with a chuckle. Was he really making light of the situation? Then he pulled out a chair, and gestured for me to follow suit. As we sat, Greg rested a hand on his chin, his fingers combing through his beard. "Heh, that's weird," he mumbled under his breath.
I could barely believe my eyes. It was almost like this was a game to him. "You're really suggesting we live the other's life? Because I don't know if I'm capable of even pretending to be a teenager again. And, no offense, I clearly got the good end of the stick in this situation."
Greg laughed once more, a gravelly bark that didn't sit right with me. "You're right," he said. "Being old isn't fun, you know it. I definitely know it now. But I can put up with a few aches and pains for a week if it'll make you happy."
I stared at Greg for a moment. He sounded genuine. He had a soft smile that broke through his white beard, and creased his leathery skin. I could just about see the young man he used to be within that rugged exterior. He seemed genuinely okay with the turn of events. And while I knew it was a ridiculous situation, I have always dreamed of having a second chance at life. And maybe it would be a good learning experience for the both of us, for me to know what it's like to be young in the modern era, and for Greg to understand the realities of maturity and old age. I sighed, and bowed my head. "It feels like I should've been the one begging you, but okay! You broke me down. If you're definitely okay with it, we'll postpone the ritual. But only for a few days!
With a loud guffaw, Greg reached over to ruffle my copper hair like I would have done. "That's the spirit!" He cried. "With that sorted, why don't we get ready for dinner? I'm famished all of a sudden. How does chinese sound?" He rubbed his stomach, then pulled himself out of his chair with a grunt, and made his way towards the staircase, presumably to find the take-out menu, and put on some clothes.
As he left, I looked back up to the totems, tucked away on a shelf I could no longer reach without assistance. I just couldn't shake that weird feeling that something wasn't right here. That Greg had something to hide, an ulterior motive that had him wanting to hide in a matured body instead of facing it head-on. Was there something happening at school? I sighed, and leapt out of my own chair with a grace I never could have mustered in my old body. Whatever it was eating at him, there was only one way to find out...
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