If you've never been through it, I probably can't explain the process of shrinking in any meaningful way. Everything gets bigger around you, but you initially don't, or maybe even can't, perceive yourself as the thing that's changing. The room just explodes out like a stadium, the gravity makes your stomach leap up to your eyeballs, even the air seems to change to something thicker, harder to inhale, though perhaps that's just the adrenaline. It feels like falling, to the point that I immediately kicked back and tried to catch myself, but you can't stop yourself from slamming into the ground if you're already on it.
And if someone else is there with you? Holy shit.
I watched Rachel stretch out into a titan, deforming like a cartoon. Her legs, so close before, skewed, flew away, raised up like roof beams made of cypress, over my head, casting a shadow like night falling on fast-forward. Her hips, her torso, those amazingly broad shoulders, all skipped off into the distance, that quirky, gold haircut becoming a strange, fuzzy halo. It was the purest depiction of awe, in the biblical sense of the word, awe that impressed both reverence and dread. 'Be not afraid' said the angel to Zachariah, and all that.
I stood and stared, for what felt like an hour, after the process had slowed to a halt. I stared at the room. I stared at Rachel. I stared at my hands. I sat back down, unable to process any of it.
“Is this real?” I muttered.
“It's real alright. Told you.” Rachel's voice was like a klaxon. I looked up at that massive, distant face, all sarcasm and superiority, and pulled my knees to my chest.
“How.” It wasn't a question, so I didn't say it like one.
“Who knows?” Rachel said, “I'm going to move, okay? Don't freak out.”
Yeah, right. Have the Statue of Liberty or Big Ben suddenly start moving around next to you and then you can tell me not to freak out. Regardless, Rachel leaned forward and pulled her legs back and, perhaps mirroring my movements, wrapped her arms around her knees which were now pressed into her chest. She hovered over me now, looking down, that gleam in her eyes still visible despite the contre-jour lighting.
“This can't be real.” I said. Rachel was too big to look at all at once. I could pan up to her celestial head or down to her dirty, earthbound toes, now not far from me and wiggling like dancing boulders, but I could not see both at once.
“Wanna check?” Rachel said, sliding one foot forward, her massive toes now suddenly in front of me. Her big toe was as tall as I was, maybe an inch taller. Well, not an inch, but you know what I mean. I reach out a hand and pressed it into her skin. Incredible. Soft, but firm, an unripened avocado with a slick, smooth peel. Her toe bobbed a little in response to my touch and I stepped back reflexively. All five drummed a quick beat. A heavy wave of their smell washed over me, the spoor of thrashing feet and athletic prowess.
“Convinced?” She asked, peeking over her knees.
“Yeah.” I said.
“God, my feet are so dirty.” She said, scrunching her toes again. Thick pieces of orange dirt, pressed into pebbles by her sweat and her weight, fell to the carpet. Could she even see specks that small? What did they look like? What did I look like, from all the way up there on Mount Olympus?
“They are.” I said, not knowing what else to do but agree.
“You could fit right into those gaps.” She laughed, spreading her toes, “Want to do me a favor and clean in there?”
Her foot skidded forward again, surrounding me with thick walls of dirty flesh. I knew she was kidding, I knew it was a joke, or at least I was reasonably sure, but while the normal response would have been to back away, I ended up stepping forward. My motivations, as obscure and mysterious as a distant planet, drove me further into the crease until I was standing immediately in front of her interdigital fold. I reached my hand out again: soft, moist rubber with a patina of dirt. I heard Rachel titter as she pulled her foot back to its initial position, leaving me stranded in the vast expanse of the floor again.
“Wow, dude. Wow.” I looked up to see her face framed by splayed knees, “I used to force my brother in between my toes, and you just walked right in. I was kidding, you dork.”
I shrugged in response, wanting to ask about her brother, but honestly, I was a little scared to do so.
“So, what, you really want to clean between my toes?” She asked, crossing her legs under her.
“No, no...” I said lamely.
“Hm.” Rachel didn't sound convinced, “Well, whatever. Hey, you getting tired?”
“A bit.” I said, though the entire bizarre experience had actually left me exhausted.
Rachel stretched back, craning her neck to look at something, legs suddenly shooting over my head so quickly I ducked like I was being shot at.
“Ugh, it's late. I didn't realize how much time we spent talking.” She said.
“Is it?” I asked.
“It's almost 2.” She said, her legs flying back over me, “Guess I should let you go.”
She stood up, but when you're an inch tall it isn't nearly as simple as that. Her body unfolded, great moving parts the envy of mechanical engineers, a Bagger 288 with no oil, no electricity, just mozzarella sticks and willpower. She shot into the sky and stayed on the ground at the same time, her head a blue tinted mirage, miles away, barely even visible behind the rest of her body, and her legs sequoias, thick and rooted and terrifyingly close. She put her hands on her hips and bent forward slightly, an inverted bascule bridge, stared down from space, and smirked that suggestive smirk.
Her foot lifted over me, probably no big deal for her, but for me it was a semitrailer, twice as wide, being dangled over my head. She wriggled her toes, showering me in flecks of dirt, and then began to step, reddened sole, soft with sweat, bearing down on me like a breaching sperm whale. I wanted to run, but my legs were locked tight, my sympathetic nervous system choosing freeze over flight yet again. Even if I could run, I'd never be able to make it out from the shadow of this god-like tomboy, and yes, I mean that both literally and figuratively. I felt my whole body flush, my breath become a whisper, my knees buckle, leaving me prone and spread, the perfect observer to my own demise.
And then she stepped next to me: a magnitude two earthquake, half a ton of dynamite going off in my face, heavy shift of her scent falling over me like a wet blanket.
“Kidding!” She said.
I couldn't even begin to form a response.
“Okay, time to grow up.” She said, and before I knew what was happening my body was stretching out, the room shrinking, Rachel quickly shifting back into a size and shape more familiar, but not necessarily more desired. I shakily stood up, not entirely sure of myself or my surroundings. Rachel's eyes met mine, same height again.
“Jeez.” was all I could sputter out.
“It's crazy, right?” She said.
“Yeah.” I said.
“So, I'll see you Tuesday?” She asked, adding jokingly, “Mr. Lucky Charm.”
“Tuesday, yeah.” I said.
“Wanna meet up beforehand?” She asked, opening the door for me.
“Okay, sure.” I said.
“Cool, swing by at like 5, we can go together.” She said.
“Sounds great.” I said.
“Awesome. G'night Koji.” She said through the closing door.
“Night.”
I should have just gone to bed, and I was definitely tired enough to do so, but instead I sat outside and chain smoked until I didn't have any cigarettes left, replaying the events of the night over and over and over and over. Rachel's face, Rachel's legs, Rachel's feet, Rachel's freckles, all on a nonstop loop, brain surrounded by a thick fog now, the excessive smoke and nicotine making me feel like I was spinning in a teacup.
Dry hacking and drained to my limit, I flopped into bed not bothering to take off my clothes. In the twilight before I fell asleep, those odd motivations had their say more clearly: I needed to have Rachel shrink me again.