Alicia stormed into the kitchen, slamming the screen door behind her. "These fell right off my feet and I had to walk home barefoot. They're like three sizes too big now." She tossed the red platform shoes onto the floor.
Thank God this skirt has an elastic waistband, or I would have been completely naked. What's going on?"
Her mother, Gillian, was standing on a stool washing dishes. Her shirt had the sleeves rolled up almost to the armholes and the cropped pants she had bought only the weekend before now had cuffed bottoms. "I don't know. The radio said the stock market took a tumble today, that could be it. We'll have to wait till your father gets home."
"Do we even have any stocks? I mean really! Look at this outfit!" The top she had squeezed into that morning hung loosely on her now, and the mini-skirt brushed her kneecaps.
"Measure me! Right now!" Alicia demanded. She stood with her back next to the pantry door in front of years of small pencil marks.
Gillian walked over to her daughter. Holding the ruler on Alicia's head, she made a small pencil mark. They both stepped back and stared at the wall.
"Almost three inches." Alicia's voice was flat. "Here I was at Christmas, that was just two months ago, and here I am now. Three inches shorter."
"I've lost four," her mother admitted. "I measured before you came home."
The screen door slammed again and Jack slid across the linoleum tripping on his pant legs. "What's happened?" He clutched his waist in one hand and his book backpack in the other.
"Jack, you should always wear a belt these days." His mother scolded. " We don't know what happened. We need to wait till your father gets home."
"Mom! Look at him! He's shrunk so much! Jack, come here. Let me measure you."
"Alicia, stop scaring him. Jack, you go upstairs and find something to wear."
Jack dropped his backpack and scuffed his way over to the staircase. "Like what? Nothing's going to fit."
"Shorts," his mother said. "Shorts with a belt. We'll punch another hole if we need to."
"OK," he shrugged, "but I don't have any shoes."
Alicia scanned the newspaper for clues to their sudden loss of altitude, "We've got to call Dad!"
"No, just wait. He'll be home soon I'm sure."
"What time is it?" Alicia glanced at the microwave. "It's just a little past four. I'm calling him." She grabbed the phone when her mother intervened.
"I've left three messages already. I'm sure he's be home soon." Gillian snapped back into normal mode. "Help me get dinner started."
As Alicia slowly peeled potatoes, she remembered the last time this happened, almost two years ago. Dad had his hours cut and everyone lost an inch and a half. Mom went back to work part time and they all gained back an inch. Mom still had her job as a bookkeeper and the benefits that came with the job is what accounted for the extra height. But this must be a bigger deal, to lose three whole inches.
Jack ran down the stairs, his bare feet slapping the floor and a baggy pair of blue shorts sagging around his hips. His tee shirt draped over him like a tunic even though it was a couple of years old. "I need a hole punched." He waved a cotton weave belt with leather ends towards his mother.
Alicia snatched the belt and rummaged through the junk drawer to find the icepick. Jack moved close enough for her to measure his waist which was so small now that the hole needed to be past the leather end. She dragged him over to the sink to show her mother. "Look, Mom, this is serious!" Alicia tossed the belt on the table. She took a piece of elastic from the sewing box and fed it through the belt loops on Jack's shorts, tying a knot in the front.
Jack examined the elastic belt gathering in the baggy shorts. "I can't wear this to school. For one thing it isn't dress code. And what about shoes?"
"My shoes don't fit either," his sister said.
"I was already one of the shortest in my class," Jack complained. "Now I am for sure the shortest."
"You wouldn't be if you went to public instead of Country Day," Alicia told him. "There are really short kids in public school. Even now I'm not even near the shortest. Debra Casey is only two and a half feet tall and she is in ninth grade." She caught her mother's gaze. "Anyway, that's how you can tell the smart kids in private school. Scholarship's are always shorter."
"Alicia, keep peeling. Jack, don't you have homework or something?"
Jack silently signaled to Alicia. She took the ruler and pencil and marked the wall. Jack stepped away and they measured the mark. Alicia held up four fingers.
Jack's eyes got wide. "Inches?" he mouthed. Alicia nodded.
When they heard the car in the driveway, Alicia ran out the kitchen door with Jack right behind. "Dad!"
Jonathan Jones sat in his car only a few seconds before the kids yanked open the driver's side door. Alicia wanted to hug him, but she hesitated, looking at his rolled-up pants legs. She was relieved when he put his arm around her and gave a quick squeeze.
"Nice outfit, Jack!" Their father's laugh sounded forced. "It's going to be OK, kids. It's not the end of the world!"
They sat at the table, hopefully awaiting his explanation. "They downsized the whole department," he stated simply. "I need to look for another job." No one was really surprised.
"I'm sure you'll find one soon." Alicia said.
Gillian had no doubt that Jonathan would find another job, and another one after that, and even one more, but each would pay less than the last, and inch by inch the family would diminish like all members of the shrinking middle class.
"There's no big deal in being short. All the saints were short, much shorter than anyone at this table. In fact there are many religious orders that won't even accept anyone over two feet tall." Alicia said. "And everyone knows the really famous artists were all short. When they died some were under one foot in height."
Jonathan folded his arms on the table and dropped his head as Gillian worked his knotted shoulders with her thumbs. "So we're going to be short this month," she said, "short on the car payment, short on the mortgage, short all around."