"Carls! Hey, Carls...oh, God...Wake Up!"
I'm not sure if it was her loudness or the vigorous way she was shaking me (probably both), but I soon opened my eyes to a bedroom flooded (unexpectedly) with sunlight. Throwing my right arm across the upper half of my face in an attempt to prevent myself from being blinded, I lay there in silence...
...as every single detail of what I'd just endured immediately came rushing back to me...
...beginning with the still-unbearable pain between my legs.
Seconds later, Sam reached under the covers, searching, until she found my left wrist...
...and uncovering my eyes, I looked over to see her kneeling next to me, still nearly naked. I couldn't read her face; but, as she pulled my left hand closer until it touched her...between her legs...
...I looked down...
...seeing (and feeling) nothing except the soft, floppy, stretched-out cotton of her briefs...
...and the way the were sagging - emptily - away from her crotch...
...while she exclaimed, in a voice choked with emotion, "It's gone, Carls! It's gone!"
But still, her enthusiastic pronouncement and my half-conscious awareness weren't nearly enough to convince me.
I needed to see for myself.
And so, I reached over with both hands and pulled her underpants down to her knees...
...and found myself staring at her fine, blonde pubic hair...
...and nothing else...
...but, still unsure if I was actually - and fully - awake, I slid my left hand between the tops of her upper thighs, and then slowly extended my index finger and pressed it upward carefully...
...and listened to her gasp sharply as it sank easily between her outer lips...
...while, much to my relief, I felt nothing inside them but the numerous, slightly-damp folds of her vulva.
As I retracted my gently probing finger she exclaimed, "Everything is okay now! I'm back to nor...oh my God, Carls!" she stopped, immediately correcting herself, "W-w-what am I saying?"
Before I could open my mouth to reply, she quickly leaned over me; and, laying her hand against my cheek she continued, "I'm so sorry about last night! I don't know what happened...or even why it happened...but I'm so sorry that I hurt you...and that I wasn't even paying attention to your nee-"
"Sam," I interrupted, shaking my head, "it's okay."
"No, its not!" she yelled, with an obvious catch in her voice. "I know I hurt you!"
She was right...
...and desperate to hide the pain and fear in my eyes from her, I looked away...
...but within seconds she had turned me back to face her, while stammering, "And now...w-what if y-you're..."
I reached up and put my fingers over her lips.
"Sam...you're back the way you were...so none of that matters now," I lied...
...eager to divert her attention - and mine - from dwelling on what had happened just a few hours ago...
...and on its very possible (and very scary) repercussions.
She wasn't distracted.
"It does matter! I saw how much I made you bleed! You're still hurting now...aren't you?" she demanded.
"A little," I lied (again)...
...transparently...
...and at once, she reached down and grabbed both of my hands.
"Oh my God! Oh, my God, Carls...I'm so sorry!"
I shook my head again and, without disentangling my hands from hers, I pulled her down and over, across my chest...
...wrapping my arms around her and hugging her tightly, while blinking back the hot tears of fear and uncertainty that were beginning to sting the outer corners of my eyes.
She tilted her head back, away from my body, and then she looked down at me, asking gently, "Tell me how badly you're hurting...and I want the truth this time."
"It...it's pretty bad" I admitted...
...and she immediately released herself from my arms and sat back up.
"Wait here. Everything is going to be o...I'll be right back" she announced, sounding slightly distracted, as she slid off the bed and then headed to the bathroom...
...while I continued to lie there, trying - and failing - to ignore the agony between my legs...
...which, if anything, felt exponentially worse than it had when I'd passed out from exhaustion several hours ago.
A few minutes later, I heard the toilet flush...
...and a minute or two after that, Sam walked back in, with her briefs still clinging to her tightly, everywhere...
...except for low in the front...where they bagged far out...emptily.
And then, my gaze shifted from her crotch to her right hand...
...or, more accurately, to what she was holding in it:
A large, half-used tube of Pure Aloe Vera gel, which I'd bought the previous summer, when she'd (unsurprisingly) ignored my advice to use sun block...and had ended up with a pretty bad burn.
"Sam?"
"Shh," she replied softly, approaching the bed. "It says that this stuff is safe to use all over...and I remember how it took the sting out of my sunburn as soon as you put it on me; so now let's try it on this...okay?"
Even though I was far from sold on her idea, I nodded slowly (and reluctantly), knowing that even if she was right about it being safe to use on me...
...there...
...that she would soon be rubbing it onto (and into(?) my bruised, lacerated vagina...increasing its level of pain from horrible to excruciating.
With a smile, she sat next to me and reached for the covers. Pulling them off me, her eyes met mine and she said, in a low, calm voice, "Don't worry, Cupcake, in a minute you're going to feel so much better. Do you trust me?"
"Y-you know I do" I answered, shifting my gaze up to the ceiling and hoping for the best...
...as I began preparing myself for the worst.
"I'm so glad," she replied, looking down, "because the last thing I want is hurt you again, Ca-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-argh!" she finished loudly...
...while I flinched sharply.
"Sam?" I asked...
...but my inquiry was met with no answer.
"Sam...what's wrong?" I asked, looking down in concern. "Did it soak through my panties and leak onto the she-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e! I screeched.
And, at that moment, I found myself struggling to not pass out...
...as I stared down...
...in abject horror...
...at what was straining - both forcefully and painfully - against the front of the inside of my panties...
...and which was clearly visible through the thin white silk.
It was huge...every bit as huge as Sam's had been...
...and every bit as circumcised...
...and when I saw how hard and swollen it was (due to my morning erection)...without even thinking, I yanked the front of my panties down...
...releasing it...
...and, the instant I did, my physical agony immediately decreased by about 80 percent...
...while my mental and emotional agony immediately increased by at least 800 percent.
And, as it burst free from my panties, and into full view of both of us...
...Sam let out a scream so high-pitched that I couldn't (and still can't) believe it had come from her...
...because, even to this day, I've never thought her capable of making such a sound.
With a long, loud cry of shock and anguish, I sat up; and, as the realization of what I was seeing hit me fully...
...with all the subtlety of a nuclear warhead...
...I immediately began scooching backwards on the bed, as far and as quickly as I could, until my back collided solidly and painfully with the headboard...
...somehow convinced that I could 'get away from it'...
...but there it remained, firmly attached between my legs...
...just above my incredibly wrinkled and bulging, pinkish-brown scrotum.
"N-O-O-O-O-O-O-O!" I shrieked...
...while Sam yelled, "WHAT THE F-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-CK!"
Desperately hoping that I was dreaming (or even hallucinating), I extended a cautious, shaking finger...
...and, screwing up all my resolve, I tentatively touched 'it'...
...and, as I did, I swear I saw it jump enthusiastically in response...
...and I screamed again...
...so loudly that Sam flinched violently...
...and actually flew straight up off the bed...
...landing back down on the mattress with a massive shudder...
...which seemed to somehow snap her mind back to lucidity.
And then, while I continued to stare down...completely paralyzed with fear...
...my facial features suddenly contorted sharply as I realized that, in addition to this most-unwelcome and unforeseen problem...
...I now had another problem as well...
...and a serious one at that.
Sensing this, Sam tumbled out of bed, quickly swept me up in her arms, and wordlessly carried me rapidly down the hall and into the bathroom.
Kicking the door shut behind her, she crossed the room, and then set me down in front of the toilet...
...facing it.
"Sam no!" I yelled, trying to turn around...
...but she grabbed my shoulders and kept me facing forward.
"Carls, I know that you have to...I can tell by the look on your face...and because it's been hours since you last went."
"It w-was," I admitted, "...and I do...but I w-want to sit d-down!"
"You can't," she stated flatly.
"I can! I will! I have to!"
"No, Carls...you can't...trust me on this," she repeated, tightening her grip as I began to squirm. "When I tried it the uh...first time, I found that, when you pee sitting down, as soon as it hits the bowl it ricochets back up and sprays your butt and your, uh, other stuff."
"No," I sobbed, trying to look over my shoulder at her as I begged, "please don't m-make me do it this w-way!"
"Shh," she said softly, "Everything is going to be okay. I promise it only takes a couple of minutes."
"Sam, no!" I persisted.
"Why not?" she asked.
"I don't w-want to touch it!"
"Shh. You're going to be fine," she answered, and seconds later, I felt her taking hold of my panties, which I had already pulled to just below my crotch, and pushing them all the way down to my knees...
...and then she agilely wrapped her right leg around the front of my body, and lifted the toilet seat with her foot...
...and then, she reached reached forward around my hips, while resting her cheek against my bare back...
...and, after a bit of searching, she found what she was looking for...
...and very, very gently wrapped both of her warm hands completely around the shaft of my penis...
...and, suddenly feeling very lightheaded, I leaned back against her body for support, while holding my breath, as she raised herself up on tiptoe (I'm taller than she is), and looked over my shoulder...
...and, while I stood there, petrified, in her arms...
...and in her hands...
...completely terrified and helpless...
...yet needing to pee so desperately that there was absolutely no way I could run from the room...
...she aimed the tip of its head down, in the general direction of the toilet bowl.
"Sam, I...I can't do this!" I insisted, near tears.
"Yes, you can," she countered. "Just close your eyes."
(Unfortunately) seeing no alternative, I obeyed her...nodding my compliance...
...and then she said slowly, "Now, think about how badly you have to go...you do have to go badly, don't you?"
"Y-yes," I replied truthfully...
...and I felt her nod her approval.
"Okay, now just pretend that you're sitting dow-yes...that's it...good girl," she said, and I heard the smile in her voice...
...as I - with effort - managed to release my first thin, hesitant stream of urine.
"Oh, no...its its going everywhere!" I gasped, "...oh, no, wait...it's stopped."
"It's okay, Carls, just put your hands on top of mine and help me aim...yeah, that's it," she said encouragingly.
Relieved that I didn't actually have to 'touch myself', I did as she directed...
...and we both stood in silence for nearly a minute, while I focused on continuing...
...and, after only a bit of concentration, the floodgates opened, and relieved (in more ways than one), I continued urinating...
...trying not to think about what was going on between my legs, as I corrected her aim...
...looking directly into the bowl, rather than at my hands...and what was under them.
Fortunately, less than a minute later, I was finished; and then, to my surprise, Sam began to shake my penis...
...rather enthusiastically...
...and, as I watched the last few dribbles of urine drain out...
...I also felt it stiffen because of what her hands were doing to it.
"See! I told you it would be okay!" she said triumphantly, as I moved my hands off hers and she let go of my penis...
...and turned me around...
...and leaned down. Seconds later, I heard a loud ripping sound as she removed my pad from my panties.
"It's...what the...how could it...?" she asked in surprise...
...and, fearfully curious, I looked down...
...to see that my pad was completely dry.
"How could this be dr...?" she asked again, bewildered. "...I saw how badly you were bleeding last night!"
"I know...I mean, I don't know!" I answered, almost sobbing, while I watched her toss it into the wastebasket.
Immediately, she turned to me once again...
...and, as she shifted her gaze from my face to my penis...
...I tried frantically to hide it from her by attempting to pull my panties back up. However, even though there was no longer a pad in them, they were still entirely too tight...but, despite knowing that it was going to be impossible, I continued struggling in vain...
...until, finally, Sam pushed my hands away.
"Don't do that," she advised, bending forward and pulling them back down to my knees, and then standing back up and hugging me...
...flinching noticeably, the instant my semi-stiff penis made direct contact with her bare thigh.
"Don't worry, Cupcake, everything is going to be okay!"
"Its not...you know its not!" I wailed.
"It is," she insisted. "Listen to me; we're going to fix this, uh...situation. Permanently. So here's what we need to do. First of all, you take a shower, and then we'll-"
"No!" I gasped. "Y-you know I don't w-want to t-touch it!"
She nodded understandingly.
"Okay, fine. I'll get in the shower with you and I'll-"
"No, Sam!"
She frowned.
"Why not?"
"I...I don't w-want you to s-see it!"
"I've already seen-" she began, but then stopped herself, and took a steadying breath before continuing, "Look, Carls...I know from firsthand experience how stressed you are right now...so just take one anyway and you'll feel a lot better...and then we'll sit down and talk...and together we'll figure this out, and then we'll fix it...I promise!"
"No, I don't want to take one!" I continued to argue...
...as she steered me across the room...
...and pulled my panties the rest of the way off...
...and, before I could protest again, she turned the water on, picked me up, set me down inside the tub...
...and pulled the curtain closed behind me.
Shocked and shaking, I nevertheless, somehow, managed to get through the ordeal...
...and, fifteen minutes later, completely clean (yes...even there), I opened the shower curtain, to see her holding a towel...
...and looking directly and politely into my eyes.
After I'd dried off, she insisted on carrying me into the bedroom.
I let her...
...and then, she set me down by the dresser, while still completely ignoring(!) the candy I'd left there for her.
But, as I reached out to open my panty drawer, she quickly put her hand over mine.
"No, Carls. You know you can't right now."
"No!" I gasped...horrified...as the situation's only alternative suddenly became clear. "I don't w-want to wear those...those m-men's underpants!"
"Okay...do you want to try a pair of my boxers instead?" she offered.
"N-no...I don't, because then everyone will be able to see my...my..."
That's as far as I got...
...before breaking down completely.
Without hesitating, she pulled me close, blocking my hands with her body as I reached over, desperately trying to get to my panties again...
...and a few short minutes later - to my total mortification - I found myself wearing a new pair of ugly, painfully-tight white briefs...
...the same ones I'd bought for her yesterday.
Noticing the way she was watching me look at myself in the mirror, I turned around - lower lip trembling - and leaned forward into her open arms, as she said, "I know, Carls, I know they hurt."
"Sam, what am I g-gonna do? I don't w-w-w-ant it!" I sobbed against her shoulder.
"Come on...don't cry. We're going to figure this out...I promise," she said, attempting - but failing - to reassure me, as she tightened her arms.
"Why? Why did this h-have to happen?" I asked tearfully.
"I don't know, Cupcake. I wish I did."
"But why?" I repeated. "I never meant for it to happen this way...not like thi-"
And, at that moment, I felt her body go totally rigid against me...
...and, seconds later, mine did the same...
...as I realized what I'd just said.
Pulling back quickly, she asked, looking more than a little confused...
...and (even worse) slightly betrayed, "Carls, what did you mean by that?"
Alarmed at my unintentional revelation, I leaned forward, toward her left shoulder again, but she gently pushed me away from her.
"Carls? What did you m...no, look at me...what did you mean? You never meant for what to happen this way?" she repeated.
"I c-can't tell you," I mumbled in alarm, shifting my gaze to the floor.
"You mean...you mean that you know why this happened to me...don't you?" she continued in astonishment.
"I...I-"
Slightly trembling fingers curled around the bottom of my chin and she raised it until my eyes met hers, and then asked unsteadily, "Carls, this isn't even about me anymore...so why won't you tell me? Maybe if I know what happened...then I'll be able to help you."
I immediately shifted my gaze downward again...
...while she waited in silence...
...but, terrified at the possible (and potentially catastrophic) consequences of me 'fessing up', I found that I couldn't bring myself to answer.
After she'd stared at me staring at my feet for nearly a minute, Sam - without warning - picked me up, carried me over to the bed and, after sitting down, pulled me down onto her lap. Taking a deep breath, she, looked directly into my eyes and continued, "Listen...I promise not to be mad, no matter what you say...if you'll just be honest with me. Now, I want you to explain what happened to me yesterday...and why."
Upon hearing the sincerity with which she'd promised, I felt my apprehension lessen noticeably...
...and, as a result, I realized that I had to tell her.
Without a word, I slowly - and shakily - released myself from her arms, got up from her lap, and walked across the room for my handbag. Approaching the bed again, I opened it, reached inside, pulled out the colorful Oswell's Oddities brochure, and held it out to her.
With an expression of total confusion on her face, she took it from my hand slowly and looked at it closely...
...while I sat down beside her on the bed...
...and waited nervously.
It took her less than two minutes to read the entire thing; and then she looked up from it and over at me.
"I...don't understand," she said slowly.
I hesitated for a (very) long moment, and then, deciding that complete and honest disclosure was the only sensible option at that point, I answered, "D-do you remember when w-we were in Mr. Oswell's tent?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, uh...you see, Sam, it's because uh...that's why you became a guy."
Immediately, her body stiffened...
...as she came to a hasty and completely incorrect conclusion.
"You mean that rotten S.O.B. somehow did that to me...to us?" she yelled. "I'll kill him!"
"No!" I exclaimed, interrupting before she had a chance to become completely homicidal. "This didn't have anything to do with him!"
"It had to!" she shouted, her rage and indignation mounting rapidly. "After what I just read! Was there something shady in the icing on those cupcakes...or in that fried chicken batter? I hope that scum's life insurance is paid up!" she bellowed, jumping up off the bed.
Alarmed, I reached out with both hands and quickly grabbed the back of her underpants. Dragging her down onto the bed again, I said, "Listen to me! You turning into a guy wasn't because of Mr. Oswell! While he was on the phone, and you and I were talking, you...you were holding that shrunken head, remember?"
"Yeah...so?" she retorted (loudly).
"Well," I continued, "believe it or not, that thing has a curse attached to it...and, remember when you said, 'Sometimes I wish I was a guy'? Well, because you were holding the head when you said that, your wish was granted and...and you began turning into one."
"What?" she gasped, jumping to her feet again and spinning around to face me. No way! No fucking way!"
Grabbing both of her arms, I pulled her back down beside me.
"I know it seems impossible to believe, but that's what happened!" I insisted.
"No! It can't be!" she spluttered, still in total denial. "That's impossible!"
"Sam, I swear that's how it happened! What other explanation could there possibly be?"
Without bothering to ponder this question, she opened her mouth to reply...
...but solutions (and words) failed her completely...
...and acknowledging that she was at a total loss for an answer of any kind, she lowered her head and looked down at her feet; sitting there in silence...
...for an incredibly long time...
...before finally managing to utter, "Then why...how...did I...change bac-"
I reached over and laid my hand on her left knee as I explained, "L-last night, right after I bought your surprise Easter candy, I went back to the carnival and told Mr. Oswell what had happened...and he explained everything to me...and then, to change you back, I held the head myself and wished that you wouldn't be a guy anymore...and it worked...but now...now I...I'm a g-g-g-"
I couldn't continue.
Turning to her left, Sam wrapped her arms around me; and nearly five minutes passed before I was able to continue, "But I n-never asked for it to h-happen to m-me!"
Sam continued to sit, deep in thought, with her chin resting on my shoulder, for what seemed forever; but finally, she asked, "Then...then how come you're turning into one anyw-"
"I don't know!" I howled. "I don't have any idea!"
"All right...all right," she answered, caressing the back of my head, and then leaning away to look into my streaming eyes. "If we stay calm I'm sure we can figure this out." She took a deep breath. "Okay, let's go over this...in detail...from the very beginning. I want you to tell me, word-for-word, exactly what you said to Oswell last night. What's the first thing he said to you when you walked into his tent?"
I wiped my eyes on the back of my forearm and thought hard before answering, "Uh, it was 'Oof!' He was walking out, and I was running in...and I slammed into him...and almost knocked him down."
She nodded. "Okay. Did he seem pissed off about that?"
"No...just winded," I replied.
"Well, that's good...so he probably didn't do this out of spite," she concluded (accurately). "So then what happened?"
"Uh, I apologized, and asked if I could speak to him for a few minutes...because it was really, really important."
Sam nodded again.
"All right...go on."
"Um...I tried to tell him what had...you know...happened to your body, but I was too embarrassed, so he had me write it down. I just wrote, 'Sam woke up with a penis. She doesn't want one, and now we desperately need to know how to get rid of it'."
I paused for a moment, as I tried to recall the next part of the conversation exactly. "Anyway, then he asked me if you had touched that shrunken head...and then he...he brought it over to the desk...and put it in my hand!"
"What?" she shouted.
"He did," I confirmed, before adding, "And I admitted that you had been holding it...and then he wanted me to repeat, word-for-word, the conversation you and I had had during his phone call. And, even though it was embarrassing because we were talking about periods, I did...and I told him everything...including all about what had happened earlier with Freddie at the GVS...and then I told him how you said 'Sometimes I wish I was a guy'...but that it was all a mistake; but he said it didn't sound like one...and that you seemed adamant in your wish...and I said, 'sometimes I wish I was a guy too...don't punish her for...for..."
My voice trailed off...
...and, as it did, I froze...
...as Sam asked, "And during this, you were still holding the head?
"Y-y-y-es," I admitted...
...and she yelled, "Oh, my God, Carls! You wished for it, too!"
And I almost blacked out.
I vaguely recollect Sam shaking me...vigorously...and, as I managed to regain full consciousness...I found myself lying flat on my back...
...but with my head still spinning...
...when suddenly, she leaned over me, reached down, and grabbed both of my hands.
"That's it!" she yelled. Don't you see? All we have to do is go back there and fix this by wishing again! If it worked before, then it'll work now!"
I looked up at her, highly doubtful.
"But...what if it d-doesn't work?"
"Of course it's going to work!" she exclaimed. "You proved that last night! We'll tell Oswell what happened to you, and then we'll take turns wishing, and then we'll wish for the same thing...together...and this time we'll do it the right way! We'll wish that we were both back to our old selves...and that neither one of us will ever have uh...guy parts again! That way, all the bases will be covered, and we won't have to worry about this happening to us anymore."
But still, and for very good reasons, I was far from convinced.
"Sam, I...do you really think it'll work again? What if a person is only ever entitled to one wish?"
"Screw that! I know it'll work!" she repeated determinedly...
...and feeling slightly reassured by her absolute conviction, I nodded...
...and as I exhaled in relief Sam continued, "Okay, this is Tuesday, and Oswell said that his show was opening today...did he mention what time?"
"No."
Frowning slightly, she glanced over at the clock on my nightstand.
"Well, it's still kind of early...only 9:30...but we'll start getting ready now. Since it's their first day, I'm sure there's going to be a lot for him to to do before they open to the public...which means he'll probably get there by noon at the latest."
That made sense. I nodded.
Sam stood up.
"Look, I know I'm still a sweaty, scuzzy mess from last night. Do you mind if I take a fast shower?"
"N-no."
She smiled down at me.
"Okay. I'll be right back, and then we'll get dressed and have a boring, nutritious breakfast...and then we'll go see Oswell...and then, right after you've changed back, we'll have a huge, Easter candy orgy to celebrate!" she announced with determination, while stuffing the Oswell's Oddities brochure she was still holding back into my handbag.
Leaning forward, she planted an affectionate, lingering kiss on my forehead...
...and then headed for bathroom, while I continued to sit on my bed...
...well aware that I hadn't finished the rest of last night's story.
But then again...how can I ever tell her the rest? How can I tell her about my sacrifice? And that it's the real reason why she changed back into a girl?
And, more importantly, how could I possibly ask the same from her? There's absolutely no way I can ever ask her to do that for me...
...but, then again, I thought, maybe I won't have to.
Maybe she's right that just wishing for me to change back will be enough. After all, Sam had been a guy for an entire day before she had changed back; so maybe it was just a matter of time. And then, I shifted uneasily...
...as I realized that, last night, maybe I had been way too impatient to see results...
...and had actually ended up having (incredibly-unwanted) sex with her for nothing.
I shook my head to clear that unpleasant thought from it, and then immediately focused back on the issue at hand, as I continued with my line of reasoning.
Maybe just wishing for my transformation really would work...especially if both of us were wishing for the same thing...together...which would definitely have twice the impact of one person wishing alone...
...and then, all I'd have to do is make sure that I waited long enough!
And so, convinced that this was - indeed - the best course of action, I made the deliberate decision to wait...
...determined that, once I had made my wish to change back, that I would wait, patiently, for a whole day...an entire 24 hours...and maybe I actually will change back into a girl...
...and then I'll never have to tell her what I did for her...
...and I'll never have to ask her to do the same for me.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Sam was back from the bathroom. After drying off and hurriedly brushing her hair, she began rummaging around in her 'Sam' drawer, soon pulling out a pair of ice-blue, penguin motif boxer shorts...
...and I watched in envy as she put them on...
...jealous that she was now able to wear her own, regular underpants; while I was forced to wear these hideously-ugly ones...
...which, despite being painfully - almost unbearably - tight, did little to hide the bulge of my massive, unwanted penis...
...and my equally-unwanted, badly-aching testicles.
Once she was fully dressed, Sam helped me try on several pairs of her baggiest pants...
...finally giving her approval to a pair of oversized, navy blue sweats...
...and, once I'd put them on, noticing (to my relief) that they actually did provide some degree of camouflage, I sat down on the edge of my bed and tied my sneakers...
...and then, once she had reminded me that Spencer was over at Socko's, and that we were - indeed - alone...
...we headed downstairs.
Ten minutes later, I was watching her as she sat, hunched over the kitchen table, trying valiantly to choke down a heaping, healthy bowl of Special J cereal...
...before finally giving up and covering it liberally with hot fudge...
...and then munching away happily as she smiled across table reassuringly.
"Don't worry, Cupcake. Now that we know exactly what happened...and why...it's going to be so easy to fix," she stated, very matter-of-factly...
...and, feeling almost reassured by her absolute confidence, I nodded...
...and actually found that I now had appetite enough to finish off a bowl of cereal myself.
Once we were done eating, I clutched at my heart in shock as Sam insisted on clearing the table; and, once she had stacked the breakfast dishes in the sink, she put her jacket on and helped me into mine; and then we picked up our bags and left the apartment...
...soon stepping out into the (uncharacteristically) bright April sunshine...
...and I confess that, as we walked purposefully toward the park, my eyes were darting nervously - and constantly - in all directions, because I was petrified that we might run into someone I knew...
...but, much to my relief, not only did that not happen...but there weren't even many people out at all, despite the gorgeous weather.
Moments later, as we approached Meridian Park's main entrance, Sam turned to me and said decisively, "Don't worry...everything's going to be fine. Do you remember exactly what you said and did last night...when you wished for me to turn back into myself?"
I pondered this for a long moment...wanting to be absolutely sure.
"Yes," I finally confirmed.
"That's good," she replied, flashing a relieved smile...
...and reaching out, she wrapped a comforting arm around my waist, and we began walking rapidly up the main path...
...toward the park's North-West corner...
...while she continued, "Okay, here's our strategy. After we've explained the whole situation - in detail - to Oswell, we'll just repeat all of what you said when you wished last night...every single thing...step by step and word for word...both of us...and then we'll...um..." she hesitated for a moment and then added, "...do you mind if we take a few minutes after we're finished and, you know, check out the rest of the carnival?"
"No, I guess not," I replied, realizing that it would be a relief to have something else to focus on beside what was currently (and very painfully) squished inside my pants.
Since Sam had mentioned before how badly she'd wanted to go to a circus, I wasn't surprised that she replied ecstatically, "Great! We'll have a fast look around...and then we'll go home...and we'll wait. Together. For as long as necessary." She paused before continuing, "Uh, how long was it between the time you made your wish...and when I woke you up this morning?"
I did some fast calculations.
"Umm, about ten hours."
With a curt nod, she reached over, grabbed my left wrist, and checked my watch.
"Okay, it's almost 11:45 now. So, if we figure on spending about 30 minutes talking to Mr. O. first, and discussing the situation with him, then we'll probably have finished making our wish by around 1 pm...so then, if it only took ten hours for me to change back, that means that by 11 tonight, at the latest, you'll be back to your old...to your...old..."
Just then, she stopped...
...verbally and physically and completely...
...and so did I...
...as we rounded the long bank of hedges which separated the old area of the park from the recently-developed section...
...and looked in the direction of the newly-improved expanse of grounds, and its six or seven brightly-colored tents...
...to find nothing but an empty, trash-filled lot...
...unpaved, overgrown, and neglected for as far as the eye could see.
"What...what the...uh...um...uh...hell?" Sam finished lamely...
...while I stood next to her...
...stunned and speechless...
...as I stared in complete disbelief.
It had been right here...
...on neat and tidy, well-tended grounds...
…less than twelve hours ago.
Where were the tents? I wondered, as my panic mounted quickly.
Where was the wrought-iron, arched entrance gate?
Where was Mr. Oswell?
As I failed profoundly in my attempt to answer any of these questions, my surroundings started to spin crazily, and I grabbed Sam's arm for support...breathing heavily and shaking violently...while asking, "This is where it w-was...this is the spot...isn't it?"
"Y-yes. Definitely," she replied...
...her face looking totally shocked...
...and slightly green as well.
"Then w-where is it?" I demanded.
"I don't know, Carls! I have absolutely no ide-"
Just then, at the (unexpected) sound of a male voice behind us, we spun around quickly...
...and saw two men, wearing blue chambray shirts with Seattle Department of Public Parks crests on them, and with their names embroidered below it, standing a short distance behind us.
The younger one, whose name was Craig, and who was holding a surveyor's tripod, smiled and said, "Hi. Could you girls step aside for a minute? We just need to take a few measurements."
Ignoring his request (my needs were far greater), I remained rooted to the spot and asked, "Where is it?"
My question caught him off guard.
"Excuse me?" he answered.
"Where is it?" I repeated...
...and he stared back at me, obviously confused. "Where is...what?"
"The carnival," I answered, somewhat impatiently.
"There's no carnival in this park," he replied, "...I think you're mistaken."
"I'm not!" I countered (loudly). "It was right here...just yesterday!"
Craig turned to his partner, an older balding man named Andrew, who was standing several feet behind him and holding a clipboard.
"Andy, do you know anything about a carnival being here?"
When Andrew replied, he addressed his answer to me.
"No. There's no carnival here. I'm sure of it."
"It was here! Right here! I saw it!" I practically yelled.
Andrew took a step forward.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but I'm sure you're mistaken."
Ignoring the vigorous way I was shaking my head in disagreement, he continued, My wife, Emily, is a member of the Seattle City Council, and she told me just last week that, due to budgetary cut-backs, there are no events of any kind scheduled for Meridian Park...for the entire year. In fact, this new area won't even be landscaped until the end of October. Craig and I are just drawing up the specs for that project now."
Despite his apparent knowledge and credibility on the subject of the park's future itinerary (or lack therof), my mind flatly refused to accept this new, disturbing information, and I repeated, "It has to be here! I just saw it yesterday! S-so where is it?"
Smiling at me with (surprisingly) fatherly patience, Andrew replied, "I promise you that, if there was any kind of carnival here, I would know about it. You must have this place confused with some other park."
Now exasperated (and well on my way to desperate), I jammed a hand into my nearly-empty bag, quickly grabbed the multi-colored brochure from it, and shoved it over toward him.
"The carnival was called Oswell's Oddities...and it was here!" I insisted. "Look, this is their brochure!"
Silently, he took it from my hand. Unfolding it, he carefully studied both sides, and then looked up at me in confusion.
"Uh, I'm sorry, but this is a Seattle Transit 505 bus schedule," he replied...
...and, highly annoyed at his total stupidity, I snatched it back...
...and looked down at it.
"No it's not a freaking bus schedule! What are you talking ab-" I managed to get out...
...before my jaw dropped in complete astonishment...
...and I saw for myself that the colorful flyer I had just handed him...
...the same multi-colored brochure that both Sam and I had been looking at, both last night and this morning...
...now said, at the top, in the same, familiar bold lettering:
Seattle Transit Bus Schedule 505
Impossible!
There had been no other papers of any kind in my bag...for the past week at least...and so, this had to be the same brochure!
What the fuck was going on?
I looked in bewilderment up at Sam...
...who stood, staring in shock...
...and seeing that I could expect no help of any kind from her, I shifted my gaze over to Andrew, who was (still) smiling back at me.
"See? You must be mistaken," he repeated kindly...
...but, unwilling to accept and unable to comprehend...
...and beginning to seriously question my sanity...
...I dropped the brochure, and immediately sprinted over to an area about fifteen feet away from where we all were standing..
...to the area where, only last night, Oswell's main tent had been...
...and began running back and forth over that patch of ground, repeatedly, looking frantically for any trace of it...anything...tent peg holes, scuff marks in the dirt...
...but, as far as eye could see, there was nothing but nearly knee-high, untrampled grass; punctuated every couple of feet with empty rusting aluminum cans, discarded soda bottles, yellowing newspapers, and greasy fast food wrappers.
As I spun back toward Sam in both shock and disbelief, I heard several empty crack vials crunching under my feet, and Andrew asking her, "Uh...is your friend okay?"
"Yeah," I heard her reply quickly. "She's just a little...um...disappointed."
"Okay...uh, are you sure she's alright?" he repeated, as I began tearing around the lot like a maniac...
...stumbling clumsily and deliriously over the uneven, weed-infested ground...
...desperate to find any shred of evidence to prove that there had been a carnival here the night before...
...and that I wasn't completely losing my fucking mind.
Finally, devastated and defeated, I found myself standing back where Oswell's main tent had originally been, and turned slowly in Sam's direction once again...
...just in time to hear her repeat to Andrew, "Don't worry, I'm sure Carly's okay. You're right...I guess it was a mistake. We were probably at some other park."
This seemed to satisfy him.
"Oh, okay," he replied...
...just as Craig, who was now standing over by their truck and wrestling his tripod into it called, "Hey, Andy! It's 12 noon, so where do you want to have lunch...how about that Third World restaurant down on the corner...the one with all the missing dog posters outside?"
Andrew frowned. "Nah. Let's go to CJ's Deli. It's a ten minute drive, but the food's a lot better, and fortunately, they're usually all out of intestinal parasites," he replied...
...before turning back to face us.
"Good luck to you girls. I hope you find the right park," he said with a friendly smile...
...and then, he walked over to his truck and climbed inside it, next to Craig.
I watched in a daze as they turned left, and drove noisily off the edge of the lot and onto the street...
...and then, as the sound of its engine faded gradually, eventually becoming indistinguishable from the rest of the city's traffic, I began looking around me frantically...one last time...
...when a sudden, strong breeze kicked up...
...causing my hair to billow out wildly behind me...
...and making the tall, unkempt grass ripple across the entire, wide expanse of garbage strewn, urban-blighted ground.
The last thing I remember seeing is the early April sunlight, reflecting brightly off Sam's hair, before everything around me was blurred by a flood of hot, involuntary tears, as I stood there...
...completely bewildered...
...understanding nothing, except that all hope now gone forever.
Turning unsteadily to face Sam...
...I felt her pulling me close; and, burying my face against her shoulder...
...I broke down completely and cried in her arms; as we stood together, completely alone, in the middle of that desolate, squalid, wind-swept lot.