Author note:
This is an idea I had after reading Moosetales story, STEREOTYPE. I like the premise and decided to try writing one. The premise is more or less the same so there may be some similarities. I didn't want it to be the same exact 'stereotype' changing premise so I just tried my best to keep the changing locked on a neighborhood level.
I'm open to suggestion and feedback since I might return and write a chapter 2. I 'm going to be real honest: the plot thing is done on the fly. I do have more or less an idea on how the story is going to end after setting it up but the device thing is going to be inconsistent since it's mostly written while going through the motion. I do have an ending in mind though.
Please be gentle.
You know the drill on standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It is not to be taken seriously. The work of fiction and any resemblance to people, events, and other stuff related or non-related or even anything close to fantasy if it's not mentioned are just pure coincidence.
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Chap 1
Jack stood in front of the gated neighborhood with the sign "Pearla" On it. In his hand he held a plain white plastic card wasn't sure if it was a good idea or not. But the man in the suit was assuring he was tasked for the job.
"So, let me get this straight," said Jack. "You want me to take care of this place? How and what do you mean, exactly?"
The man in the suit,who Jack could never picture his face like it was always blurry for some reason, spoke, "The place is yours my boy. I picked you because you gave me a sandwich. Plain and simple. I like it you know."
"It was...a sandwich."
"I know it meant a lot to you as a poor college dropout. And I can tell you don't even a steady job at 30. You want a requirement? Well," the man crossed his thin arms, a hand on his cheek, began to appraise him: "thin, messy haired, nerdy with creativity to spare. There, that should do the trick. I'm not going to do your work. Don't be picky. I believe you will do wonders here. Just follow the guideline and you'll be fine.'"
"I er...never mind. Ok..." Jack reluctantly agreed. He really needed a job and people have been rejecting him lately. A college dropout was not a status he was proud to tell others, especially to a stranger. "and what do you mean by take over the place?"
"The key word is [Redacted]. "That would have raised a few suspicions had the man in the suit walked away, but, instead, he disappeared in black puff of smoke, raising a bigger one. Jack was sure he saw a wry smile. Which leads Jack to where he is now.
The security guard was staring warily at him.
Obviously, he would never had seen him before. Pearla was a rich neighborhood near the college. A gated community surrounded by thick high walls that no one could see inside or out; that should've been more than enough to tell anyone how rich and exclusive it was. He had never set foot in it but he had heard from his ex it has a park, a mini mall, a single high-rise apartment, or other facilitates. There were even rumors of a beach.
Lost in thought Jack didn't notice the security guard coming out of his booth. He was a well-built guy, with tanned skin and handsome features. The sun's rays were above him but Jack could see the name Tyrone stitched on his blue uniform. He was carrying a friendly smile as he approached, asking if there was anything he could do to help.
Jack hesitated on what to say. Maybe he was to show the card in his hand? He did so but all that elicited was a raised eyebrow.
"Sir, are you lost?"
"Um...I own this place?"
"Sir." Jack could see Tyrone was holding back his laughter. 'This is Pearla. There are a lot of thing I could say but, for one thing, the entrance here." He motioned to the massive gate that let cars through. At the side was a small gated door with a card reader. "The resident here doesn't even use cards. Sorry, management orders."
"Can you tell me? I'm Jack Smith."
"Do I look like a fool? Sorry, it's been a long day. This job is really important to me. They had me haul away any complaints. Only some were polite about it. I mean it, really. The HOA will be on my ass if I don't follow their rules. I live and stay here, man."
Tyrone by now was obviously tired but was trying to be as friendly as possible. He approaches Jack ready to drag him away. Thinking quickly, there was one thing he could try.
"[Redacted]? Tell me how to get in?"
"They use bracelet card here. It has a chip or something and management thinks it's a lot more practical than something easily lost." He lifted his right arm to show a black coloured bracelet.
Jack blinked at the reply. Somehow, Tyrone was more compliance this time. Could it be? He repeated the words again, adding 'I have a bracelet so I can get through here."
Then something magical happened: the card in his hand slowly elongate. It stretched and thin itself that eventually settled on his wrist.
Jack half expected Tyrone to be taken surprise by it but he kept talking: "I see you have a white bracelet here, Mr. Smith. I apologize."
And with that Jack managed to open the door to a sight of perfectly lined houses with emancipated kept lawn, flowers, and bushes. He walked forward, not really sure what had happened, eyes still staring at his wrist. There were a million-question floating in his head, ranging from whatever type of metal the bracelet was made of, to how easy it was to convince the guard to let him thorough.
It was this loss of thought that prevented him from noticing someone approaching him, yelling shrilly "who the hell are you."
Jack jumped and turned around. It was a blonde middle-aged woman, maybe in her 50's, dressed in simple gardening overalls with a straw-hat. By the trowel she was holding, she must've been in the midst of doing gardening work. Before Jack could greet her, she barked her questions again.
"Er...I'm a resident here? I'm Jack--"
"No, you're not." Her face contorted to become increasingly ugly highlighting her wrinkles. "I been here almost 23 years and there is no way someone like you could live here. I mean, look at you: Thin, messy hair, short chin. In Jeans--tattered jeans, shirt too big, and god what are those shoes. Where's Tyrone? I'll have him fired."
It was lucky that the woman lived right next to the side gate. Tyrone must've heard the commotion and came out, trying to defuse the situation.
"Sorry Mr. Smith. This is Mrs. Cindy Ricci-- please stay calm. He is a resident and he...he..."
Tyrone was speaking is confused tone and that was when Jack took the initiative and mumbled whatever he could think of "Errr...[Redacted]! Err.. Cindy was it? Yes, I am a resident here. I...er...live here at your place. I mean I mean my place...I mean I crash here time to time that you're always happy to accommodate me. And...er...you're with Tyrone, doing work, too. Both of you really respected me when I got you two together."
Her eyes went from fury filled to a dazed look, mumbling incoherently: "I...can't be working.... I'm...retired... widow."
"No...er...you...you said 23. You landed a job here and you're really good at it. I mean, you never really did do well in school, or with people, but here, you met Tyrone, and he had been a wonderful...lovely especially to you." Jack was about to continue when he noticed the wrinkles of Ms. Cindy was slowly regressing. She was getting shorter, her skin became paler, and the colour of her hair was returning to a brighter hue while getting longer. The strawhat was dropping as she frantically tried to grab hold of it. Gone were the remnant of a 50-year-old and there stood was a young adult. Because her body had grown smaller her gardening clothes just hung on her shoulders, making her look like she was wearing oversized clothes.
"Yeah, honey," this time it was Tyrone without a hint he had noticed anything amiss. He spoke up but all Jack could do was stare quietly at her transformation.
