Chapter 1: September 1, 2028- Move-in Day

As a lifelong New Yorker, Cameron never thought he’d end up on the west coast. Then again, he never expected to end up shrinking down to a half an inch tall.

For the longest time, he thought he was invincible. Even when COVID was tearing through his college campus, he ignored the quarantine directives and hosted huge ragers. At the time, his rationale was that he’d only be a college kid once. Damn the virus, he had thought. It only seriously affected old people and he was young with an enviable physique. He wouldn’t die from this. It was his right, no, his duty to get as drunk and high as he could as often as he could.

On his bad days, his mind would torture him by reminding him of all the times he’d say things like: “This shit is overblown, there’s nothing to worry about.” He was particularly haunted at the memories of him telling his male friends that they were pussies if they didn’t want to go out because of the pandemic.

He was the de facto leader of his friend group, and a lot of the friends he accused of cowardice at the time were now inches tall. All because he strong-armed them into going out to bars and convincing them to ignore common sense.

Once the dormant long COVID shrinking symptom worked its way through the male population, Cameron tried to call his friends, only to realize they didn’t consider him a friend anymore. Many of them blamed him for their current condition.

One of his frequent bar buddies, Kyle, who used to look up to him (literally and figuratively), angrily asked him how tall he was now. When he answered with a half an inch, Kyle let out a derisive laugh before saying, “Serves you right, asshole.” The line disconnected.

Cameron spent years sulking on a shelf in his parents’ house in Long Island. The guilt over the terrible person he’d been in college ate away at him. He finally snapped out of his funk when he noticed how much his mother was struggling to care for both him and his dad, who’d shrunk to two feet tall. She was a saint and would never admit that he or his father were a burden. But he knew the truth.

After a few months of searching, he locked down two virtual customer service jobs and was working 16 hours a day. The pay wasn’t much, but he saved every single penny he earned and invested wisely.

A girl named Evie, one of his few friends left from his college days, texted him just after his 28th birthday in February to tell him about a community that was being built for men like him in Spokane, Washington, of all places. A female billionaire who claimed to have altruistic motives was financing the project.

He checked out the website and saw that construction hadn’t even begun yet. They planned to build four towers. One for men an inch tall or smaller. A second for those in the two-to-five-inch range. A third for six to eight inchers. And finally, there’d be a substantially bigger tower for men who were anywhere from eight inches to a foot and a half tall. It would be called Shrunken Spokane. Perhaps not the most dignified name, but what could he do?

Each tower would have its own grocery store, gym, movie theater, and plenty of other amenities that would be perfectly scaled for its residents.

The website explained that all the towers would be customly constructed based on demand. And thank god Evie’d texted him because the deadline to get his name on the list was that day. Seeing that thousands of men had already signed up for the smallest tower, he hastily signed his name on the dotted line.

Pending a background check, he was now legally obligated to move into a unit in this yet-to-be constructed tiny apartment building.

Months later, the building was finished. Two days prior to move-in day, he boarded a plane to Spokane as a stowaway in his teary-eyed mother’s chest pocket. His dad stayed behind with Cameron’s aunt who would watch over him, as he’d do nothing but slow them down in transit.  

Eventually, he and his mother arrived at the apartment complex’s entrance for full-sized people. There was a collection of metal detectors out in front of steel walls that spanned as far as Cameron could see. After spending some time waiting in line, she was patted down by private security guards, both of which were female.

“Name of tenant you’re escorting?” one of the guards asked.

Holding her son in one hand and all his worldly possessions in the other, she responded, “Cameron.”

Ther guards were satisfied and let the pair through the metal detector and past the 15-foot wrought iron gates. Once inside, Cameron’s mother walked down a straight, paved path flanked by hedges at about her hip height. At the end of the path, there was a mass of people they assumed were escorting their shrunken men as well.

Everywhere they looked was adorned with lush greenery, elaborate floral displays and impeccably trimmed grass. Based on what Cameron read, this area used to be a public park until it was bought for the purpose of housing tiny men. And clearly, they spared no expense on the landscaping.

It took some time for Cameron and his mom to get to the front, but when they did, they were quickly informed of the move-in procedures. But more importantly, they laid eyes on where Cameron would be living.

All four towers were there, spaced out from one another. His tower, the smallest of the bunch, was all the way to the left. All the amazing perks he’d read about online were plainly visible. As his mom moved closer, he peered past her fingers to see a tennis court; a rock-climbing wall; and a pool complex, complete with water slides, a tiki bar and saunas. He assumed the rest of the outdoor facilities were behind the building.

His mom ventured up to Cameron’s building until she was face-to-face with it. He looked up at her from way down below in her palm. He remained just as in awe of how gigantic she was since he shrunk down four years earlier.

“Honey,” she said, blankly staring forward in what appeared to be disbelief, “I’m taller than your entire building. I can see all your neighbors unpacking their boxes. This is just…crazy.”

“It’s OK, mom. Let’s just get me situated in there, alright? I’m on the 26th floor.”

As his mom reluctantly lowered him into the roped off area for tiny men only, he thought back to the first couple of weeks on the shelf. He was nothing. Invisible. Unimportant. Pathetic. Most days, he had felt like a knick knack since he was surrounded by his old action figures, all of which stood head and shoulders above him.

And here he was now, confidently strutting into a dignified, acutely tailored environment just for him. He was paying the rent to be here with his own money, and he’d be surrounded by other adults that he could talk to without shouting or craning his neck. He’d be able to live, maybe not quite like he used to, but it was damn close.

The only thing that worried him a bit was the fact that there was an incredibly thick glass barrier separating the full-sized people from the apartments. He knew it should comfort him since it would prevent someone from accidentally or purposely demolishing the living quarters of thousands of helpless men, but it still made him uneasy. It felt like he was about to be a fish in a bowl.

Once inside, he found that everything was scaled perfectly. Walking around the lobby, riding the elevator and talking with his soon-to-be-neighbors, he could almost forget that he was the size of the average person’s fingernail. Almost.

He got to his floor after exchanging some small talk with a group of guys. His heart swelled with excitement when he reached his door. He fumbled with the keys for a few moments, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

Finally, he opened the door and saw just what he’d hoped to see. A perfectly normal apartment with all the luxuries a person could ask for. A kitchen with an oven, cabinets, counters and a dishwasher. A living room with a couch, a coffee table and a TV. A bedroom with a normal bed, not the flattened-down cotton ball he’d gotten used to for the last couple years. And finally, a bathroom with a toilet, not a thimble.

Seeing all of this, knowing it was his and that he didn’t have to rely on a soul, was a little too much to take in all at once. He collapsed onto his bed and wept. He was happy, yes. He had the beginnings of his own life. One where he wasn’t exiled in a high away place only to be escorted places in a hand dozens of times his size. But still, he was away from his family. His mom, who’d helped him through the most difficult time in his life. And right now, she couldn’t comfort him as hard as she tried. She couldn’t stand over him in his bedroom like she used to and give him forehead kisses. She didn’t even fit in his apartment and one of her kisses now would result in him getting stuck to her lip like a stray crumb.

He eventually composed himself, knowing his mom was outside waiting to hand him his stuff. Yes, his mom was essentially going to airlift every single item he owned into his apartment through the window. He approached the curtains and pulled them back, only to see someone’s waist adorned in light blue jeans obscuring his entire view. He quickly realized the hips that were as wide as an average school bus to him belonged to his mother.

He chuckled. That was all he could do. There was no sense entertaining the feelings of inadequacy he felt seeing that even 26 flights up, he was only as tall as his mom’s pants zipper. He used to give her bear hugs whenever he got home from college. Now, it’d be a miracle if he could win a wrestling match with her pinky.

One of the full-sized workers outside alerted Cameron’s mother that he was waiting for her. His window was now open, and he was ready to receive his items. Each window on the building had a corresponding slit in the glass barrier that big people could fit a finger through. So, his mother handed him box after box, placing it on her enormous finger and sticking it through his window. Her pointer finger invading his space really ruined the illusion the place was going for, but perhaps they’d come up with a better way to move tenants’ things later.

It didn’t take long for Cameron to pile up all his boxes of stuff in the living room. Still exhausted from all the traveling, he didn’t want to unpack right then. He endured a tearful goodbye from his mom. He, of course, shed some tears as well. Not that she could see.

She wasn’t allowed to stay long, given that other tenants were moving in, and the space in front of the buildings needed to be clear for the full-sized people accompanying them to help give them their stuff.

Cameron hated to admit it, but once his mom was gone, he collapsed on his couch feeling relieved. He could truly relax for the first time in years. If he wanted a glass of water, he could just go and get it from the tap. He didn’t have to wait for his mom to bring it to him. But most importantly, he wasn’t on display. He was in his own space where he could draw the curtains if he wanted to. Not on a shelf where there was no privacy.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like a man.

Soon enough, his stomach grumbled. It was then that he remembered that he had no idea how to cook. He never had to learn while living at home or at school. He got up and opened his fridge, only to find that it was empty. He then felt dumb thinking there’d be anything in there.

For a moment, he wished he was back home so his mom could just give him a miniscule portion from her plate like she always did at dinner. He scolded himself for wanting the easy way out.

He decided it was time to make a visit to the onsite grocery store to get some grub. He left without a list but with all the hope in the world.