The Time Bubble Box Set 2, стр. 301
What will it be like to be confined in a womb, in the lastfew hours before birth? I can’t imagine anything more claustrophobic. Will Ieven be aware by then of what is happening? Will the physical changes happeningto me mean that I won’t be able to remember who I am by then?
It’s certainly a possibility. Even now, the day before myseventh birthday I am struggling to hold onto the person I once was. Althoughthe memories of everything I’ve been through are still there, I can’t help butbe affected by the changes in my body.
The way I think, the way I feel and the way I behave are allbeing influenced by my physical state.
I lost interest in boys as I grew younger, seeing them asdirty, smelly creatures, just as I had when I had been a ten-year-old growingup. There were other changes, too. I no longer had any desire to drink alcohol,and when I sneaked a cup of coffee at the age of nine, I spat out the vile,bitter-tasting liquid in disgust.
I remembered an old quote from the bible that my R.E.teacher once made us all write out twice as a punishment for our unrulybehaviour. It began something along these lines:
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as achild, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childishthings.
We must have been about fourteen at the time. I think themessage the teacher was trying to get across was that we should stop actinglike immature brats and grow up. We didn’t take much notice of him at the timebecause we were too busy having a laugh, but ultimately of course, we did growup.
Now I was going through the process in reverse. Much as Imight try to hold onto my adulthood, I could not fight nature, despite thememories of the grown-up I had once been. The environment around me was alsobecoming more that of a child and with every passing year, more toys and gamesfrom the past reappeared in my bedroom. Far from dismissing these toys as childishrelics, I seized upon them with delight.
When I became a man, I put away childish things.
OK, I was a woman, not a man, but gender aside, I was nowliving this quote in reverse. I was getting out my childish things out againand loving every minute of it.
Things changed the most dramatically at the age of eleven.That was the first year I found myself back in Liverpool, in our old house inWest Derby where I had spent my formative years. In the space of one year, myliving space changed dramatically.
No longer did I find myself in the room of a teenager. Gonewere the pop posters from the walls, replaced by wallpaper from my adored film,The Lion King.
The room was full of new/old toys, and I had seized upon theTamagotchi I found next to my bed with delight, playing with it for the wholeof that day. This was all the proof I needed that I was regressing to achildlike state. It simply wasn’t something that would have held any interestfor me had I discovered it as an adult, other than a few seconds curiosityabout this ancient toy.
My parents had bought this for me after the death of mybeloved cat, to help ease the pain. I had wanted another cat, but they had saidit was too dangerous because of the road we lived on.
The room was littered with other toys, from Barbie toSylvanian Families, all of which I found myself increasingly drawn to as theyears passed.
I went back another year in time and my cat reappeared. Hewas a beautiful ginger and white tabby we had got from a rescue centre when I wasjust seven years old. I had absolutely doted on him, and insisted on naming himafter a character from The Lion King which I had just seen for the firsttime.
I was heartbroken when he met a sticky end under the wheelsof a souped-up Vauxhall Nova. We lived on Coachmans Drive, close to where theyused to film the old Brookside series. There was a big problem with boy racerson our road at that time, and I am sure it was one of them who killed him.
There was nothing I could do to prevent my pet’s fate. Notsunami style warning was going to mean anything to a cat. Trying not to thinkabout it, I just got on with enjoying the short time I had with him while Icould.
My best friend from primary school, Siobhan, came aroundthat birthday, keen to play with my extensive collection of Sylvanian Familiestoys, including a lot of new stuff I got given for my birthday that year.
I had no objection to this, again finding myself warming tothese childhood activities. It was simple, easy fun, uncomplicated with the worriesof adulthood. I was starting to approach the world with a renewed childlikewonder in my eyes. Memories of the person I had once been were becoming hazy.Was this similar to the experience of old people who got Alzheimer’s?
Every year I jumped back now, things seemed to change moreand more compared to the year before. The world was getting bigger as I gotsmaller. By the age of eight, my parents had become giants, my bed seemedenormous, and I had to start climbing on chairs to get things out of cupboards.
Despite these massive changes, I didn’t have to worry aboutmy parents noticing any odd behaviour in me. I didn’t have to try and actyoung, finding myself naturally slipping into the persona of my physical agewith each passing year.
As I got smaller, I also got weaker. There was one lesscandle on my birthday cake each year, but they got harder to blow out. Itwasn’t just people that were getting bigger either. Simple, everyday thingslike cutlery suddenly became unwieldily large and heavy.
My freedom