Retro

Retro by J.B. Pravda

'Einstein didn't predict this, did he?' was the dominant experimental
thought in his brain, reprising with every observation that registered
there. Relativity was definitely out, not that he fully understood the
theory, generally or especially, or at all.

He was not aging; in fact, the reverse was happening. His daily run had
effortlessly increased almost by a mile in a matter of weeks. Grey hair
was no longer in evidence, sometimes overnight. Having ruled out any
arrangements with anyone claiming to be Mephistopholes or possessing
his powers, Ben Yonge was concerned, no matter how beneficial these
changes might be.

His physicians were no help, brushing him off as experiencing some sort
of male hysteria, a kind of late adolescent blooming. 'Adolescent!' was
his exclamatory response, having long since passed the age of
21&;#8230;&;#8230;but, in which direction?

His internist was adamantine: 'Ben, be reasonable, your tests are all
normal, nothing outside normal limits; just be happy about your
collateral benefits and put it down to right living. Look, we know so
little about the aging process that you may be truly the norm, the rest
of us just genetic mutants!'

He didn't feel normal, more like a freak. His wife had no complaints,
the sex was better than ever, though his taste in music was strangely
retrograde, tending toward, well, adolescent.

'First my doctor, now you? I don't know what's happening to me, it's
like I'm stuck, not growing, you know?'

'Ben, darling, sleep on it and we'll talk about it later' she advised;
he wasn't tired, not at all, even after his increasingly rigorous
workouts.

The next morning, when he rose from what he thought was a brief period
of dosing, he found his wife gone, as though she had not slept there at
all. Looking round the apartment, he saw none of her possessions, not
even a photo; worse, he couldn't remember what she looked like. He was,
he concluded, losing his mind.

'Strangest case I've seen in years; this guy insists he's 35, married
with kids' confided Dr. Stanislaus, the psyciatric resident at the
medical school teaching hospital where Ben had, somehow, found himself,
dazed and highly stressed.

'One other thing' he paused to complete his dictation; 'Mr. Yonge
insists that it is 2002, and that an older female
patient&;#8230;..is his wife; tentative diagnosis: extreme dementia,
with ideation of time travel hallucinations; as he appears underaged,
must seek family consent to therapies, including possible shock
treatment; he displayed ID on admittance, bearing the same name, but
clearly belonging to a much older male bearing some resemblance; will
medicate pending location of kin'.