The movie’s mental bombardment in combination with his recent regression had completely annihilated his body image. If he closed his eyes and tried to think about how he looked or how big he was in relation to his surroundings, multiple images of himself at various ages appeared in his mind. His kinesthetic sense had been wildly distorted by the electromagnetic radiation. His body felt heavy and clumsy on him as if he was wearing a body that wasn’t rightfully his. When Howard staggered and tripped as they left the theatre, Anita put out her hand to steady him. He took her hand in his and held it tightly as she led him to the Suburban. Although it was a comfort to know she was at his side, being led to the car like a little boy did nothing to help his mental confusion. He couldn’t tell if he was an ill adult or a toddler under Anita’s care as Anita buckled him in the passenger seat of the Suburban and drove them home. The effects of the movie on Howard’s self-image took hours to subside.
That night Howard had a nightmare that left him lying in damp sheets. He dreamed he was sitting cross-legged on the carpet of the living room, dressed only in a pair of white cotton briefs and a pair of thick, fuzzy, white socks, while Anita bustled about him doing chores and cleaning the house. He wondered why Anita would let him wear socks around the house like that without saying anything to him. Everytime he had worn socks around the house without shoes in the past, she had come down on him like a ton of bricks. She would complain bitterly how grimy the soles of the socks got when he wore them without shoes and explain to him in excruciating detail how difficult it would make it to get them clean. Strewn around him on the floor were vaguely shaped brightly colored objects whose purpose and function were unclear to him. For some reason, he found he was unable to speak to Anita as she walked by. All he could make were incomprehensible gurgling noises that were devoid of content or meaning. He could talk to himself readily enough, albeit in an almost soundless whisper rather than his full voice, but Anita’s presence rendered him speechless. He waved his arms at her each time she passed by, hoping to attract her attention, but she would just smile at him and continue with her work. After a while, he noticed that his vision was obscured by something that surrounded him. There was a misty appearance to the lower parts of the room that baffled him. The floor of the room seemed to be inundated with a pervasive milky fog that ended abruptly three feet over the carpet. Howard could discern the outline and color of the couch, but the details of its construction were obscured the fog.