E-Venn Now

Maggie sat up on her bed as her husband of 28 years came in with a tray. The smell of fresh biscuits, scrambled eggs, ham, and coffee greeted her as John said, “Happy birthday, Honey.”

“Why do I never hear you get up when you do this?” she asked as he brought the tray to her.

“Because you’re too tired from staying up so late, and you’re not used to getting up in the morning anymore,” he responded as he sat the tray in front of her. Pulling the pillow from his side of the bed he tucked it in behind her, giving her a quick kiss before leaving her to her breakfast.

She smiled, but wondered how they had gotten to this point. The kids were gone – the last one was finishing up her third year at university. They should be looking at retirement. But the years hadn’t been as kind as they should have been.

The morning’s little gesture of his was nice when it happened, but they were rare, and he never seemed to think of anything beyond them. She spread the jam on her biscuit, taking a bite.

Maggie didn’t know what she wanted. Yes, she did. She wanted him to make her feel special again, like when they were first going out, when they first were married. To take the time for just the two of them. Instead, he got up early in the mornings to go to work, keeping crazy hours for the company, maintained their old minivan to keep it running, and surfed the net for who knows what when he did have some free time. They rarely just talked, other than to figure out which bills needed to be paid first, or for something for the kids. That usually resulted in a groan as “emergency funds” were transferred to the checking account, or a sigh.

She hated those conversations. Money and finances weren’t her thing. He made her handle the checkbook, reviewing it monthly, “so she knew how to do everything, just in case." He had started that when he used to travel a lot for work, but it had remained her job. As they both knew, marriage wasn’t a 50/50 proposition: it was more of a 60/60, or even a 70/70, requiring more effort from both sides to work. Was he really keeping up his share?

Then there was that strange picture she had seen on his dresser, mixed in with the various clutter up there. She took a drink of her coffee; he always made it a little too sweet for her, thinking that was how she liked it. He did pretty well on the biscuits this time, though. Maybe she should encourage him to try cooking again as a hobby…

But that picture… She had noticed it when putting away his socks from the laundry the other day, the corner sticking out from under a book. Some cute looking drawing of a critter of some type. Kind of like one of the things their daughter drew, but nothing that was on her website. Why would he have a print of something like that?

“Want anything more?” John asked, returning to the bedroom.

“No, you made more than enough. It was lovely. You’re getting better with the baking.”

“Think I should try making scones again?” It was a running joke: his one attempt at making scones had ended up with them tasting like pretzels, and the kids never let it go, so he hadn’t tried to make them again since.

“Maybe.”

“I’m going to take a look at that leak on the van, see if I can figure out where it’s coming from.”

“Ok.”

The maintenance of machines was his responsibility, as was the outside of the house. She handled the cooking and the cleaning, and the dreaded checkbook. He dealt with the snow, the lawn, and the car. They had divvied up the tasks a long time ago. Maybe it was time to shake it up a bit. She was getting tired of cooking. He rarely asked for anything special, and didn’t like to eat out, having done it so much when he traveled for work. But she did, and they still liked to try different things. Maybe she should get him to take her to the Chinese place they had loved so much when they first visited Toronto. It wasn’t that far from Kitchener that they couldn’t do it for a Saturday lunch or something.

She got up and showered, then got dressed and made the bed. The picture was still sitting under the book on his dresser. She moved the book to look at it again. White fur, a tail like a kangaroo’s with a puff at the end, a face something like a cat’s but with a rounder, bigger nose and matching mouth - maybe a little like a cow's? Or a monkey with fuzzy ears on top? Large eyes – that was something that was supposed to make things look cute, wasn’t it? The whole thing was rounded, maybe a little pudgy, but definitely cute, and female. Not a crazy, overly-endowed female, but female. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was well rounded and not pudgy: fat. It had been hard to keep her shape after having kids. Maybe that was the problem. She put the print back under its book, but it stayed in her mind.

Downstairs the dishes were in the dishwasher, the kitchen cleaner than it had been last night. At least he had learned to take care of that. When they first were married, and he tried to “surprise” her with breakfast in bed, he had left a disaster in the aftermath of his attempt. She had not been happy, and lit into him about being like a kid in the kitchen, then branched over to his habit of leaving whiskers in the sink after shaving. He started rinsing the bathroom sink out every day immediately, and had gotten better with the kitchen over the years. Maybe that’s what she should really be focusing on: he did try. He just really wasn’t a romantic.

She knew that. He was a nerd. Not even a computer nerd – couldn’t write a program and struggled with setting up the router at the house, but otherwise a nerd. He did little romantic things here and there, but almost never spontaneous. It shouldn’t matter, really. He never strayed.

The door opened and Julia, their youngest, walked in. Deep blue hair with titanium highlights hung about her shoulders, swaying with her steps as she walked past, glancing at her mom.

“Smells good in here. Did he try to make scones again?”

“Biscuits, with eggs and ham, and coffee.”

“Anything left?” Julia had put on the “freshman fifteen,” never lost them, and still ate like she did when she was a teenager – constantly.

“Check the fridge.”

Julia opened the door to the refrigerator as she said, “Happy birthday, Mom. You going to have cake later?”

“I don’t know. I doubt it. It’s just the two of us, we don’t need it, and you father is working on the van again. He might get something from the store. Are you going to be here for dinner tonight?”

“Probably not.” Julia took out the leftover ham from last night and carton of milk. Cutting a large slice off of the ham she asked, “Aren’t you going out with Dad?”

“I don’t think so. You know how he hates eating out anymore. And it costs a lot.”

“Mom, what’s wrong? Dad doesn’t usually ignore you on birthdays and stuff.”

“We’re getting old, Julia.”

“Not that old. And it’s Jewel, Mom. Or Jules. Not Julia. I’ve told you that before.” Julia was slathering mayonnaise on two slices of bread and piled the ham on them along with lettuce, pickles, cheese, and a tomato slice. Holding the side with the cheese, she put the two of them together, making a thick sandwich.

“I named you Julia, after my favorite Aunt. You’ll always be Julia to me no matter what your friends call you.”

“Hmph. And maybe you guys need to spice things up or something.” Julia poured a tall glass of milk. Leaving everything on the counter, along with her retainer, she took a bite from the sandwich. Her corrected teeth chomped through it neatly, wasting nothing, and she washed it down with the milk.

“What are we going to do? It’s not like your dad is going to do anything.”

“What do you mean? You two went on that trip to Lake Louise and around Alberta, then took that train ride to Vancouver. That was something.

“That was three years ago for our 25th Anniversary,” Maggie shook her head. “He wanted to see the Rockies and the West coast. I was along for the ride.”

“Come on, Ma. You enjoyed that trip. I know you did. Especially Vancouver Island - your raved about the gardens there and the mountain views out west for months.”

“We were doing it together. I did have fun. But it’s been three years. Breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day, my birthday, and our anniversary is pretty much as far as he goes these days.”

“And what do you do for him?”

“He doesn’t like breakfast in bed. You know that. Says it makes him feel like he’s sick.”

“Which he never is. What else have you done?”

“What do you mean? I cook every day, keep the place clean, make him lunch for work, and do the laundry – my least favorite thing in the world, mind you, next to balancing the checkbook. I buy his clothes, make sure he doesn’t go too long without a haircut, and remind him of your birthdays. It’s not like I’m not doing things for him all the time.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“You know your dad. It’s not a discussion that we have.”

“You guys get along far better than a lot of my friend’s parents. Maybe you just need to do something romantic to get him started. Ever think of that? Something different, something he might like.”

“I don’t know.” The picture came to her mind again. He had never strayed. Or had he? Was he having some kind of weird fantasy with these cute creatures in his head?

“You’ve got that look, Mom. What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on. What?”

“There’s this picture up on his dresser. Maybe it’s just one of your sketches?”

“A picture? I don’t remember giving him anything. Show me.”

They went upstairs to the bedroom. Maggie lifted the book and gave the print to Julia.

“Cute. But not anything I’ve given him. I don’t see a name on it.”

“Are you sure it’s not one of yours, Julia? It looks like the stuff you leave all over when you’re here.”

“What sites has he been visiting on the 'net?”

“I don’t know. I don’t watch him. I look at my own shows.”

“Just check the browser history.”

“What? I don’t know how to do that.”

“Oh come on, Ma,” Julia turned and headed back down the stairs. Maggie followed her daughter.

Turning on the desktop, she logged on and opened the web browser. “He mainly uses Firefox, doesn’t he?”

“I guess.”

“Look. You go here, and click this, and see? Here’s all the sites that have been visited.”

“So?”

“So click on one,” Julia selected one of the listed URL’s, “and see what it is.”

An image of a furry came up. Not as cute as the picture on the dresser, but female, and as detailed.

Julia clicked on other URL’s. Similar images came up. Maggie stared at the display. What the heck was he doing on all these different sites? Was he going through a second childhood or something?

Julia opened another image. This one showed two of the creatures, sitting together, cuddling. Another one showed a cartoon human with a female creature. Again, the creature was cute, a little on the chubby side, clearly female. But they were just holding hands, sitting together, heads leaned into each other. Maggie remembered when she and John used to do that on moonlit nights.

“What am I supposed to do with this? Your Dad is interested in animals?”

“What!?” Julia visibly cringed. “Nooo… I wouldn’t say that.”

“Then what?”

“Have you ever heard of Venn Machines?”

“No.”

“You had to have seen them. They’re all over the place. Little stands by the entrance to the mall and stuff.”

“I thought they were some kind of photo booths or something. There’s no signs on them or anything. What are they?”

“Photo booths? No, Mom. You go with a person you can trust, and they program the machine to make you look like something else. It’s temporary.”

“What do you mean it makes you look like something else?”

“It transforms you into whatever is programmed into it. It’s perfectly safe. I’ve done it a couple of times.”

“What? Like what? And why?”

“Well, I’ve done it for parties and stuff. You know, instead of getting a costume to look like a tiger or something, I change into one. It’s easy, doesn’t cost much at all – a nickel will do – and I could change you into something like this,” Julia held up the picture, “easily. You could surprise Dad, and maybe get some snuggling. Ignite his imagination. I don’t know. I’m not a marriage counsellor. But you’re not happy with what been going on. Change things around, try something different. If it doesn’t work, at least you’ll get a conversation going.”

“I don’t know...” Maggie held her hand to her chin. “Can it make me thinner?”

“Sure. But it’s only temporary. Does he say anything about you needing to be thinner?”

“No. But change into something different? Why not change into some one instead of some thing?” Maggie asked. But then she thought, “But if this is what he’s into these days…”

“Worst case, Mom, he flips out, you change back, and he has to deal with talking to you about it. Don’t hide that it’s you, let him know you care enough to try something different for him. I’m sure he’d try to come up with something for you, if he knew.”

“He has to know. How can he not know?”

“If he knew, don’t you think he’d do something different, and do what you want, if he could afford it?”

“I... Maybe? I don’t know. I asked him to fix those shoes for me, and he keeps forgetting.”

“Shoes? Mom, he fixes stuff all over the place here. The washing machine, the car, the clock. Most people don’t even know how to fix everything he does. Your shoes aren’t something he probably even notices, let alone remembers that they need to be fixed.” Holding up the picture again she continued, “This is different Mom. Shake things up a bit.”

“How long does it take?”

“I can do it in a few minutes for you. It can last as short as 8 hours.”

“Then I have to go back to the booth?”

“No, you’ll just change back into you again.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Nope. Completely painless.”

“And you’ve done this?”

“A few times. And I’ve done it for a bunch of people: turned them into what they wanted to be,” Julia said, looking up at her mom from the chair in front of the computer. “Usually for costume parties…”

“Well, we’re not going anywhere today. I guess I could try it now?”

“I have a test I have to take,” Julia looked at the clock on the computer’s display. “Shoot, I have leave now to get back to St. Jerome’s. But I can do it this afternoon and have you back here in no time. Surprise him when he comes home from his run.”

Maggie had forgotten that John had signed up for a charity run again. If it hadn’t been for the charity, she would’ve never let him go for a run today, but she had agreed, figuring he’d probably need the trip to pick something up for her birthday at the last minute.

“Ok. This afternoon then. Can I eat before the change?”

“Yeah, you can eat. Doesn’t make any difference,” Julia shut the computer down and stood up.

“Oh, but what should I change into? There were a lot of pictures there.”

“How about this picture you found on the dresser? It must mean something if he printed it out.”

“I suppose. Can you change the hair a bit? I want him to know it’s me and not just some fantasy thing.”

“Sure. Think about what you want and I’ll make it look that way. I’ve got to run, Mom. Bye!”

“Love you!” Maggie hated that her family had such a hard time saying those words. That was definitely something from John’s side.

* * *

Julia pulled their old Plymouth van with its dark windows into the mall parking lot, the radio playing CKMS, her mom riding in the passenger seat.

“Watch out for that pickup truck.”

“I see it, Ma. He’s leaving the other way. We’re good.”

“Just making sure, hon.”

After parking the car, they walked up to the lone machine by the Mall door. It wasn’t an entrance that got a lot of use, which made Maggie feel a little bit better about this. She’d hate to have one of her friends see her using this thing.

Julia placed a nickel in the slot and programmed the time. The doors opened up. Not sliding, not swinging open, they just… disappeared. Maggie wondered what kind of machine this was. John would’ve been fascinated by that alone. “See Mom, I’ve set it for 8 hours, so you’ll change back right after then.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“Go on in. Don’t touch anything; I don’t need to get transformed into anything today.”

“That can happen?”

“Not if you don’t touch anything. I’m trusting you, Mom.”

“Well, I guess I’m trusting you, too, young lady. Can you not use that tone of voice with me, please?”

“Mom, I’m not using any ‘tone of voice’ here.”

Maggie stepped inside. The door closed. She could see Julia through a window. The control panel was like nothing she had seen before. She stepped back from it, not wanting to accidentally move or touch any of the symbols.

The room wasn’t very large, maybe big enough for two people. Maggie tried not to think about it. Her claustrophobia, however, was already starting to kick in.

“Julia? How long does this take?” she asked.

“I’m working on it, Ma. I’ve done this before, you know. But it’s not as simple as ‘make her into a cat’ or something.” Julia didn’t look up, completely focusing with working the panel on the other side of the window.

Maggie looked at the circles on her side again. How could Julia possibly know how to work this thing? She was an art student, for crying out loud. This looked like some kind of Sci-Fi math computer thing.

“Do I have to stand a certain way or something?” Maggie wondered if she should’ve researched this before agreeing to her daughter’s idea. Or was it her idea? She did want to get John to do something more than the occasional breakfast.

“No, you don’t have to stand a certain way, Mom.” Julia was moving something on the panel on her side. “There’s nothing to worry about. It just takes a little time to tweak the settings for something like this.” Julia had drawn up a rough sketch of the picture with the changes Maggie requested, and had agreed it looked cuter than the original. If John was into cute, she was going to give it to him in spades.

“Ok. It’s just starting to feel a little claustrophobic in here.”

“Look at me through the panel window, Mom. It should look bigger that way.” Julia didn’t even glance up at Maggie, who could see she was still focused on the panel in front of her.

“I’m ok. You know, Julia, that titanium in your blue hair makes you look older.”

“That’s a good thing, Mom. I’m usually getting carded all the time.”

“When was the last time you and Arnie got together, anyway?”

“Mom! Arnie and I are friends, that’s all. He was at the last D&D game I went to at DeNofrio’s last week.”

“He’s still a nice boy, even for a drama student. I think the two of you are good together.”

“Just a friend, Ma. I’ve been telling you that since the 6th grade.”

“But you don’t really tell me much about the boys you go with. He’s been the one constant, for quite a while now.”

“Mom, I’m trying to figure something out here. This is not the best time.”

“When is the best time?”

“Never.” Julia finished tweaking the wheels and rechecked the settings. Everything looked right. “Ok, here we go, Mom.”

Maggie saw a bright light and looked around. The lighting was back to normal. She turned to look at the door, and felt her ears move against her hair, and something flitted by at the corner of her eye. She looked down at it, seeing a rather large, white-furred tail with a golden-blonde puff at the end hanging behind her, curved up so it wasn’t touching the floor. She moved her hand towards it, seeing a white, padded paw-hand lifting in response towards the tail. She stopped to look at it, turning it over and bringing her other hand in front of her face as well.

Brushing the white fur on her arm, it felt soft, like a cat’s. The fur was thicker on her front, looking at the rest of her body, she couldn’t decide if it was cartoonish or not, but it seemed a cross between that and natural looking, although nothing like any animal she had ever seen. Then she realized…

“Julia! I’m naked! What happened to my clothes?”

“Mom, you’re not naked! You’re covered in fur, for crying out loud. It hides everything in front and your tail hides the back. Your clothes will come back when you change back. Don’t worry about them.”

Maggie looked around herself again. Really, nothing was showing, her front covered completely with the thick white fur, like the rest of her body. Even so, it seemed weird to not have clothing on.

“It feels strange, Julia.”

“Strange? How? Nothing hurts, does it?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. I feel… ok. It’s just so different.”

“That’s the idea, Mom. Let’s go home now. Just step towards the door and it’ll open for you.”

Maggie had been turning around and had to look at the window again to get oriented. Having a tail was very strange, and when it touched a wall, it made her understanding of where she stood in the small room seem wrong, adding to her claustrophobia. Reaching for where she thought the door should be, she stumbled out of the booth as the door vanished before her as it opened again.

Julia took a picture of her and quickly dropped her phone into her back pocket. Guiding the cute creature that was her mother towards the car, she opened the back door and helped her inside.

“Why the back seat, Julia?”

“You need more room for your tail and I can’t shift if you have it up here.” Julia answered as she closed the door.

Maggie knew the dark tint of the rear windows hid her from the outside, but she still felt exposed and uncomfortable. Her tail didn’t allow her to sit in the seat properly to buckle up, and she made it go to one side as she sat on the edge of the seat. “Do people really do this a lot? How do they drive?”

“I don’t know about a lot, but it’s not that uncommon. I guess if you want to be able to drive, you have to consider that as a limitation of the form you change to.” Julia buckled in and started the car.

* * *

Maggie waited on the sofa. John should be coming home any minute now. She had practiced walking and going up and down the stairs, and checked herself out in the mirror. She liked the wavy curls of golden blondish hair on her head, framing her long, pointed white ears. It seemed like a good offset to the rest of the white, and matched the color of the puff at the end of her tail. Her ears twitched in response to a sound in the driveway, and she peered out the window. Their old minivan was backing up in the drive. The faded bumper stickers for the St. Mark’s Angels and the Preston Panthers showed how long they had owned it. She dropped the curtain and went back to the sofa, arranging herself and her tail as she had planned, as she heard the garage door open and the van came inside. The sound of the garage door closing only made her more nervous.

She heard his keys in the door, and he walked softly down the short hall towards the room. “Maggie? Are you home?”

“In here, John.” This was it. What was he going to say? What was she going to do?”

He came around the corner and stared. She stared back.

It was not what she had expected at all. He looked like she did, only as a male with a great lion’s mane of matching golden blond hair.

“Maggie? I didn’t think, didn’t realize, that you were so into these creatures. I want to make you happy, and if this is what you want, I’ll do it for you. I would never even try this for someone else.”

Maggie blinked. “Me? I thought you were the one surfing the net going all fantasy land. I want to be here for you, so you don’t have to go searching for someone else.”

John grinned. “I would never go looking for someone else. I think some little art student has pulled a fast one on both of us.”

“Did she? Why?”

“Maybe she thinks her parents need to pay more attention to each other. I’m sorry, Maggie. I know I’ve never really been your Don Juan. Julia reminded me I need to do more than the occasional breakfast, and when she showed me this picture and where she said you had been on the 'net, I figured you were bored with me. I didn’t get it, but I don’t want to lose you now. You know there’s never been anyone else.”

“I don’t want to end up as one of those old couples who don’t care about each other anymore, John. I know I’m not always the most patient person, am fat and not the attractive girl you married 28 years ago, but I still want to be your girl…”

“You’ll always be my girl, Maggie. And you don’t have to change for me.”

“So what are we going to do now? This doesn’t wear off for a few of hours yet.”

“I don’t know. I felt like I had to sneak in the house, hoping none of the neighbors saw me. I don’t feel like going anywhere like this. Do you?”

“No, I don’t want to go anywhere like this. Julia had to get a blanket for me to walk from the car into the house. Maybe we could sit together? And snuggle like we used to before we had kids?”

“Huh. Yeah, we can try.”

With a few changes of position that left them both giggling, figuring out where to put their tails, John wrapped an arm around her and they held their other hands together between them. She leaned her head into his chest mane, and rested it there. A smile formed on her lips as he hugged her tight and rested his head on hers, her free hand slowly stroking his heavy fur.

“Why don’t we do this anymore, John?”

“I don’t know. We should. It’s kind of nice to just hold you in my arms.”

She rubbed her head on the soft fur of his chest. He brushed her hair to the side and cupped her cheek gently, bringing her head up to look into her eyes. Turning her head slightly, she leaned in to kiss him on the lips, getting a response that sent a tingle down her spine to the tip of her tail, like something she hadn’t felt in ages. And it didn’t stop. She pulled him closer.

* * *

“So, you’re going for a walk in the park with Dad?” Julia asked as she pulled the left-over cake from the fridge.

“Yes. And I’d rather you didn’t come by the house this afternoon.”

“Oh? You have something going on? Got the old passion back, eh?” Julia cut off a generous slice, leaving less behind than she had just taken.

“For the most part. Your characters were very cute, Julia. We know they were yours and you left the prints and the clues on the computer. But you have to be a bit more careful when you make those things to match your drawings.”

“What do you mean?”

“They matched the drawings fine but the characters you turned us into… weren’t… fully complete last night. Neither of us… had anything. We’d kind of like to finish what we started this time.”

“Oh! Uh, Mom, uh, ok,” Julia made a face as she grabbed the slice she had just taken and stuffed it into a plastic bag. “Too much information. I’m out of here, then.”

“And Julia?” her mom asked as Julia grabbed the handle on the door.

“Yeah Mom?”

“I don’t want you to trick us like that again. But thanks.”