---

 
Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Papyrus font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.
 

---

 
The Legal Stuff: Symbol  ©2009 SuZie
 
All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.
 
The image used for this story is used under royalty-free license* and fair-use policy from 3D Desktops UK
 

---

 

“Hi, uh, Janelle?”

I turned around to see Don Hanson standing awkwardly next to me. He was a Math Club guy, almost stereotypical in his look: a bit gawky, with glasses and unkempt, light brown hair. If I’d been taller as a guy, I’d probably have looked a lot like Don in a few years.

“Yes, Don? We don’t have a meeting before Christmas, do we? I hadn’t heard about anything.”

“No. Oh, no! Not anything like that,” he said, fidgeting nervously.

My radar gave a warning squawk, fearing incoming hostiles.

“I…I was wondering if you’d like to go to the new movie with me Saturday night?”

Yep. Hostiles. Just turned into a girl and aged 3 years, I wasn’t certain I wanted to date guys. Heck, I liked being 13 for the very reason that I wouldn’t have to seriously consider that question for another couple of years or so!

“Well,” I temporized, “I couldn’t possibly go out on a couples date. My father wouldn’t allow it. Of course, if you had a friend for one of my friends…”

I watched Don’s face light up and had the sinking feeling that my mouth had gotten ahead of my brain again. He had a candidate ready to hand! I remembered that Don was also in the Chess Club and had obviously been planning several moves ahead.

“Jerry, here…hey, Jerry! Come on over! Jerry would only be too happy to go out with a friend of yours, Janelle.”

A very thin and tall young man shuffled over to say a bashful hello, obviously nervous about being Don’s wingman. I took one look at the poor fellow and decided that I had to at least try to get him a date. I took a big breath and accepted Don’s offer, dependent on my being able to find a date for Jerry on short notice. I got his phone number and promised to call that evening. The boys run off before I could change my mind and I realized I’m actually looking forward to seeing if boys are my thing. Not that anything would happen! It was going to be a first date…and I’m thirteen! I might let Don hold my hand. And maybe a goodnight kiss. On the cheek.

On the walk home I realize that there is only one girl I can ask to help me out. I’ve talked to some of the other girls in school, but I don’t even have their phone numbers yet, let alone a relationship where I can ask one to help me out on a double date. I reluctantly call Candace, hoping that I’m not pushing things too quickly for her. Who am I kidding? Of course I’m pushing it too fast! But I have no other options. Besides, if Candace won’t do it–or her mother says no–then I’m off the hook as well. I’ll feel bad for Don and Jerry, but I’ll have done my best.

“Hello? Jackson residence.”

Oh, Candace! I was hoping you’d answer. I have really big favor to ask of you.”

“Janelle! Ask away, girl. I owe you big time!”

“So, I take it that Uncle George said he could help you out?”

“Yep! He figures he’ll have ID for me right away and all the records to go back to school as Candace by the end of the weekend. I never realized the government could be that efficient!”

Efficiency via Chaos Magic, I thought wryly. As for the immediate ID, I guess that was on my shoulders. I could magic it up just like I did my “uncle’s” business card. There would be nothing backing it for the time being, but it would mean Candace would have believable identification when out in public. I wondered how a transperson’s ID should read, since if there was an accident or anything like that then Candace’s real sex would come out.

I settled for a Florida picture ID that stated Candace’s name but left her sex male. That would be her official ID, but I decided to risk a “fake” ID as well, stating her preferred sex. The photo for both was as I remembered her from her recent makeover, so she looked like a nice young woman either way. Without a close look, even her “real” ID would look like she was a girl. I decided that she’d had a legal name change already.

“Well,” I replied, “it is the least I can do after starting all this. But what I needed to ask you is if you could go out with me on Saturday to a movie. It’s…sort of a double date with two of the guys from the Math Club.”

I waited through a long silence, only to break down and add a disclaimer, “It wasn’t my idea, but Don Wilson asked me and I didn’t know what to say and then he said he had a friend if I wanted it to be a double date so there was no pressure or anything…”

I wound down, hoping that Candace would finally make a sound. I mean anything to keep me from babbling like an idiot to fill the silence.

“Um, I don’t know. I’ll have to ask my mom, you know? Who is Don’s friend, by the way?”

“It’s Jerry somebody. I think maybe…Gray?”

“Jerry Green? He’s really tall.”

“Yeah. I think he’s, like, 5’10” already.”

“And I’m 5’6” and with two-inch heels he would still be taller than me…”

I could tell there would be no problem with Candace, as long as her date was taller than her. Who would of thunk it a couple of days ago? Still, we had to get past the biggest hurdle. Mrs. Jackson.

“How about this? I’ll have my dad call your mom. He can be our chaperone. That way there won’t be any problems with, well, you know.”

I could tell that Candace was thinking about it. She already considered herself female, but she knew that problems could happen if the boy she was out with went too far. A casual attempt at second base through clothes could be rebuffed, but anything more would expose her secret.

“Yeah, that would be best. Is your dad home now?”

“No, but I can call him at work and give him your number. Your mom is there right now?”

“Yes, she is. I’ll let her know he will be calling.”

“Great! I’ll get the ball rolling and we’ll talk later. Everything going well at your house?”

“Super! My mom and I went out shopping and I have a whole new wardrobe, or at least a good start on one. But we still don’t know what we’ll do once Pops comes home.”

I could hear the dread in her voice when the topic turned to her father so I quickly promised that I was working on something and hung up. The here and now shouldn’t be too difficult, but Christmas Eve was beginning to feel like D-Day without a landing force.

I phoned my dad and filled him in on the situation, leaving out the problems with Candace’s dad. He had a chuckle at my expense and then promised to call Mrs. Jackson right away.

“And, dad! You don’t know about Candace’s little problem. You’re just a concerned dad who will look out after his daughter and her friend. Right?”

“Ten-four, boss! Honest, I understand, Janelle. I won’t make things more difficult for Candace. Promise.”

I waited for what seemed like forevvverrrr, when I finally had a call back from my Pops.

“It’s all set, honey. We will pick up Candace at 6:00pm Saturday. Let the boys know we will grab them at 6:30 and be at the theater about a quarter to seven. That should allow enough time for us to get seats for the 7:30 showing.”

“Oh, daddy! I love you!”

“I love you too, punkin. Just remember that you have to be good for Candace’s sake.”

“Like I’m going to let the first boy I go out with to get anywhere with me! I’m only thirteen.”

I heard muttering on the phone that sounded remarkably like, “As well as a genius and mature enough to double for a high school senior.” But that just might have been my Chaos enhanced hearing going on the fritz.

We say our goodbyes and I’m rapidly dialing Candace again.

“Hey, girl! All set?”

“Yeah. Mom came in sort of dazed just moments ago to tell me. She got a call from your father and didn’t really believe he was the police lieutenant until she called back to the station. I think she was impressed. Kind of hard for the boys to act up when a police officer is chaperoning.”

I could tell that Candace had mixed emotions over that. Yes, she was relieved that her secret would be safe, but she was also disappointed that this would probably be nothing more than a little kids’ get-together. I shared her emotions. How were we going to find out if we liked guys if we didn’t let them do at least a little on the date? I mean, a kiss would be nice…or it would be icky. I wanted a nice binary solution so that I could go from there. In between stuff would just be too confusing.

I called Don and he practically pissed himself as I told him it was set. He wasn’t quite so enthusiastic about my father the policeman being our chaperone, but he agreed that no one could say we were out of control with him around. I found myself promising to see if dad would be unobtrusive, like sit way back from us or something. Too bad I couldn’t get him to sit in another theater at the Cineplex, but he took his promises seriously. Nothing would happen to Candace–or me–on our date.

Friday dragged on. The only bright moment was when Don came by at lunch and sat with me. I could tell that some of the girls were surprised that such a geek was sitting with the new hottie, but that just made it even more special. After all, until two months ago, I was one of the geeks. Going out with a jock just did nothing for me. I found Don’s beautiful green eyes mesmerizing as he talked about a gaming club he was in. They did some online stuff and some in-person role player games. He invited me to the next meeting, which would be online on New Year’s Eve, and I found myself eagerly accepting. I wasn’t sure whether it was because of those eyes or because I liked gaming as well.

I wondered if I’d met any of his group online as Johnnie. At any rate, I would have to start new characters, since I was the new girl in town and couldn’t call on Johnnie’s assets. That would be a dead giveaway. Maybe I could get Don to “help” me, the noob without a clue? Strong man help out woman. The caveman scenario sounded so good I resolved to take it easy in that department. I might not like jocks, per se, but the strong supportive type was definitely my cup of tea.

“Maybe we can online together?”

Don’s comment derailed my current thoughts and I realized I’d missed whatever he had said just before the question. Probably about doing the New Years thing at the same physical location. My tummy fluttered when I realized that New Years and mistletoe went together and that any gaming party worth its name would last at least until midnight on a non-school night.

“Uh, sure. If you have a laptop you can come over to my house.”

“Great! It’s a date!”

A date? When had my casual offer turn into a date? We hadn’t even gone out on a first one and Don was planning his future battle plans. Well, Fortress Janelle was not so easily stormed, and there would be absolutely no Trojan horses welcomed into my keep!

Still, those green eyes were nice to look at.

I managed to break away before the second bell sounded and stumbled through my final classes of the day. I remembered my promise to visit Candace after school and let my mom know where I would be for a while. She said fine and asked me to call her if I wanted to stay at Candace’s for supper.

I rang the doorbell at the Jackson’s and waited impatiently, wondering if there would be further changes in the two days since I had seen Candace.

Sure enough, the cute girl who opened the door bore only a passing resemblance to the Candace I had left Wednesday afternoon. Her hair had been professionally styled and colored, giving it rich highlights and loose curls that framed her face nicely. And her ears were now pierced, the holes sporting simple studs for the moment. She had a totally new outfit on, consisting of a pink knit, scoop-necked sleeveless top over white shorts that fit her like a second skin. It was clear that Candace had decided to shave, as her legs were baby smooth and not even stubble appeared under her arms. On her feet were strappy sandals with two-inch block heels.

Candace had, beside the earrings, added some bright bangles, a cute watch and an ankle bracelet as well. But Candace’s attitude had changed even more than her look. There appeared no boy left in her. I decided that I would need to take lessons from my new friend, rather than the other way around.

Candace escorted me into her house, her mother appearing for a moment, obviously dazed at the pell-mell girl conversion her child was undergoing. Judging by Candace’s earrings, her mother had been swept up in the daughter’s tidal wave of enthusiasm, and for the moment, she did not remember the Christmas Eve dilemma. She had too much else to contend with.

On the way to Candace’s room, I once again confronted the problem of Mr. Jackson. Finally, a glimmer of an idea came to me. It was bold, it was daring, it just…might…work. The next moment I was swept up in a room that shouted GIRL from every angle.

“How, who?”

“Well, mom apparently had some money stashed away from an inheritance she had not told dad about. She loves him, she really does! And I love him, too. But some of his attitudes…even when I was nasty old Tom I didn’t like them very much. Mom says she never suspected I was a girl, but I don’t know. I think she knew something was different about me, in a way my dad couldn’t stand. She never told him just how much she got from her rich uncle. Her ‘rainy day’ fund, she calls it. Anyway, she said that I was going to have the room I wanted right away. Paid extra to have everything moved out and the room painted yesterday while we spent the day shopping. We bought new furniture and all my clothes over the last two days. Oh, and if you were wondering, mom took me to a specialty shop she found and bought me some gaffs. Know what those are?”

“Yeah,” I said, “I looked at those myself when I thought I was a boy, physically. I was even thinking of getting one when we found out the truth about me.”

“Well, now I can wear just about anything. Mom is having me fitted for real prosthetic breasts, at least until I can get a doctor to prescribe hormones and grow my own!”

“Whoa! You ARE a whirlwind, aren’t you, girl?”

Candace hugged me fiercely before continuing, “Janelle, I am happy for the first time that I can remember! I don’t want anything to get in my way now. Hormones for the time being and then surgery later when I can get it. Maybe even go to Europe to have it earlier than I can here. Mom’s inheritance is large enough for that. We’ve…talked about dad.”

Candace got up from where she had been sitting on her new four-poster bed, done up in shades of crá¨me and sheer white organza, which was a complement to the rich crá¨me walls. Most of her accents were in shades of pink, so the white and crá¨me were very welcome. Even I didn’t like pink as much as Candace obviously did!

“What have you decided?”

“Well, we’re still hoping for a miracle, but if dad can’t accept me…”

Candace did not have to finish her sentence. I knew how the rest of it went. I hugged her as fiercely as she had done with me, silently vowing to allow no harm to come to my new friend.

We talked about our upcoming date and what we would wear, so that we could coordinate. One thing was for sure, being a girl was a lot more complicated than being a boy!

I decided not to stay for dinner, as I was hoping to refine my idea on helping Candace with her dad. Then there was the issue with my Brother and Kylie that I had been completely ignoring the last few weeks. They had made no progress since last I checked on them and I knew that I would have to do something to help out. After all, it was my meddling that had made a bad situation worse. I was just having a real hard time figuring out how to help without tampering with the people involved. Talk about a dilemma!

I called it a night after mapping out what to do for Candace’s dad, hoping further inspiration came to me to help my brother.

“Janelle, are you ready yet? We are going to be late picking up Candace if you don’t hurry!”

“Coming, father!” I sang out as I descended the stairs.

My hair was swept over one shoulder to hang down in gentle waves of blond luxury. Yeah, I’d gone a honey blond, deciding that no one would call me a ditz after how fast I came up to speed at school and hung around with the smart kids.

I’d convinced my parents to allow me to wear a dress for the evening, a simple knee-length sheathe in emerald green. Okay, I know it sounds fancy already, but really! It isn’t all that! My makeup included a subdued eye shadow and a tad more blush than appropriate for daytime middle school. My lipstick (yes, lipstick!) was a light mauve that glistened deliciously. Mother had made me practice for an hour on how to apply and repair this new product, and then made sure I had Kleenex in my purse. “For the man, afterwards. And you, as well, until you can get to a restroom.” I’d blushed three shades of red and protested mightily, but mom was having none of it. She could see the questions behind my eyes and knew that I just might let Don get to first base.

Simple white pumps were all mom would allow me. They hardly had any heel at all! Next to Candace I would be a midget! Even Don would tower over me.

I swept out of the house in front of dad as if he had been the one keeping me waiting. That was a secret mom had divulged to me. Never let a man get his balance or he would be thinking he could tell you what to do. Dad hurried to catch up, muttering something about me being just like my mom. I hid my smile as I allowed my shining knight to open my door for me.

We made it to the Jackson’s with plenty of time and I made certain to give dad The Look, thereby letting him know that I knew that I had been right from the first and that we were in no way in danger of being late. Dad just sighed and got out to open my door for me. I rewarded him with a peck on the cheek, giggling as he hastily tried to wipe off the evidence. I’d been careful, but checked my makeup in my compact mirror before ringing the doorbell. When the door opened we were ushered into the foyer by a bemused Mrs. Jackson, clearly at a loss for words or thoughts.

Candace gracefully descended the stairs and I realized what had so affected her mother. Her makeup was definitely evening and would not have looked out of place on a girl going to her senior prom. She was stunning in a virginal white, a-line dress hemmed three inches above her knees. It wasn’t exactly a mini but I thought she was playing with fire here, especially on a first date. It wasn’t that far from the Promised Land for a wandering hand to encounter more than it should. To make matters worse, Candace was wearing white patent leather pumps with three inch, stiletto heels. She would definitely tower over me–and make me look like a little kid to boot with her sophisticated getup.

“Candace, are you sure you want to wear that?”

“Please, Janelle, it’s alright isn’t it? I...I convinced my mom that this was okay, but is it too over the top for a first date? I never had one as a guy and now…I guess I’m just making up for lost time.”

The pleading in Candace’s eyes got to me and I hugged her before telling her that she looked fine. I reminded myself that dad would be there and that Jerry seemed even more unsure of himself than Don. Still, in the future Candace would need to tone things down a bit for middle school. Maybe I could enlist Kylie for help? Of course, that led me into worry over her problem and I had to shake myself. Tonight was not the moment to solve Kylie and Roger.

We allowed our chauffeur to open our doors for us, the two girls in the back seat for now. My dad’s old Caddy would fit one couple on the front seat with him and one in back, once we picked up the boys. I was pretty sure than Don and I would be expected up front. I sighed as images of us cuddling evaporated from my mind. Then I remembered Candace’s dress and realized I’d be too busy riding mother hen over her to worry about cuddling!

We picked up the boys at Don’s house and made awkward introductions between Candace and Jerry. Jerry nearly tripped over a shoelace as he tried to help Candace into the car, nearly landing in her lap. He stammered abject apologies while doing his best to imitate a young Jerry Lewis. Poor boy! I felt like giving him a hug myself, and when Candace did just that, Jerry melted into her arms. I had to shout an “AHEM” at them before seat belts were engaged and decorum restored. Don was not much better in the front seat with me, still in a daze over his good fortune in finding such an intelligent and attractive girl who liked him. At least, I didn’t have to hug him back to health. Darn the luck.

The movie we went to was a blockbuster 3-D affair that blew us away over the special effects but left something to be desired plot-wise, even for 13-year-olds. Luckily, we did not have to concentrate on the plot. My father had found a seat quite a ways back, obviously trusting me to make good decisions. I couldn’t even see him from my seat. Hand holding led to arm snuggling and it wasn’t long after that that the first kiss just seemed to naturally happen. I kept our adventures above the neck, but pretty much surrendered to the new sensations, reveling in how someone else’s tongue in ones mouth was not actually icky. I DID have to let Don know that he did not impress me when he tried to plum the depths of my lungs with his moist appendage, but other than that, we definitely explored the possibilities of two people and two mouths. I came up for air every once in a while to check on Candace and Bean Pole, gratified to see that she was keeping her date in check as well.

I hated to miss any of the amazing technology–and human anatomy lesson–but finally called a girls’ visit to the powder room. We repaired makeup and visited the lavatories, swapped excited squees and generally admitted that boys were probably our thing. I think that Candace even liked the fact that her date was a bit awkward and by no means an octopus. It gave her breathing room for the time being and allowed her to grow into this dating thing. She admitted, looking at the other girls at the theater, that she should tone down her outfits for ordinary dates but I had to remind her that I wasn’t much behind her in glam for the evening. We both decided that we would do nice jeans and simple tops for a while so as not to give the boys the idea that we were nothing but Barbie dolls–or asking for more than what we were comfortable giving.

The movie finally came to a close and we cleaned up our dates and ourselves, quickly slipping into the women’s room again to fix the damage. I thought that I’d made it by dad unscathed but when I came out of the lavatory I saw the look on his face. There would be a lecture later, but for now he did not say a thing. I realized that he still knew I was being a good girl, even if a little bit naughty, and hadn’t done anything too scandalous. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized the lecture would probably not exceed an hour in length. Two at most.

We dropped off the boys with chaste kisses on the cheeks, but I was pretty certain that our innocent parting did not fool dad. I wasn’t getting out of a lecture that easily. We actually went in with Candace at her home and dad took Mrs. Jackson aside. Whatever he said seemed to satisfy her, though she seemed to be silently promising Candace a lecture similar to the one I expected at home. We were two chastened young ladies as we made our goodbyes, promising to meet before Christmas Eve.

“Oh! Dad, Mrs. Jackson, I really want Candace to stay the night Christmas Eve. I know that may not be tradition in your home, but it would be a real favor to me…and it would allow you to talk to your husband. You might even wait until Christmas morning to talk to him about…well, you know.”

I silently willed Mrs. Jackson to recognize the look on my face as being my promise to help solve their dilemma. She seemed to get the message and agreed to the stay over. Whether she believed I could actually do something–or just wanted Candace out of the house when she told her husband–didn’t matter. I had the time and opportunity I needed.

Now if I could only figure out what to do about Kylie and Roger…

The man that showed up at Kylie’s place Christmas Eve was handsome beyond anyone she had ever seen. If it hadn’t been for her love of Roger she would have been putty in his hands. That and the fact that Janelle had glamoured the fellow from who knows what. Her young friend had refused to divulge that information, making her swear that she would never mention the powers she had to anyone. Since shortly after Halloween night, Kylie had thought that Janelle might have the Chaos power from the Orb at her disposal. And when Janelle had appeared on her doorstep a day earlier with a promise to help, utilizing unspecified abilities, Kylie was certain of it. Still, she hesitated in using that power to make Roger see reason.

Janelle had no problem with that side of things, as long as it didn’t involve messing directly with Roger’s mind. She refused to force people like that, which reassured Kylie that her friend was not trying to play Dictator to the World.

After that, it was pretty easy to figure out what to do. What had stumped Janelle was old hat to Kylie. She had stood by for years as pretty girls threw themselves at Roger during his high school career. Now, all she needed was someone to make Roger jealous for a change. Janelle said she would have no problem doing that, promising a drop dead gorgeous guy to leave Roger sputtering.

The trap had been set, with one last detail to be attended to. Kylie phoned the Carter’s home at the specified time, trusting Janelle to ensure no one could pick up the call before the answering machine kicked in. “Sorry about missing you, Janelle. I’ve gone out with my date to Oscar’s for dinner. My cell phone is dead, so you’ll have to call his phone at…”

Blah, blah, blah.

Roger would be the one to get the call. He’d realize that he hadn’t promised to come over to Kylie’s that evening and that he’d only been by once since Winter Break began. He was terrified of what he would do to Kylie if things went too far. Now he would have to accept that he might be losing her.

Kylie had thought that there should be a series of get-togethers that escalated until Roger broke, but Janelle was convinced that one night would be all they needed for a man besotted by the woman escaping his grasp.

Kylie left with her date, pondering over the taxi at the curb until the hunk at her side replied that Kylie would hopefully be leaving Oscar’s on Roger’s arm. Still, it was a little disconcerting when her tall escort seemed to need to jump up into the seat next to her in the cab. And then at the restaurant he carefully avoided any direct contact with her or the waiters. Kylie wondered what was under the glamour sitting across from her in the candlelit restaurant.

“Well, girls, it’s getting towards bedtime. Can’t expect Santa to make his appearance if you are still up!”

Candace looked at me funny, easily conveying her thought that my dad was a slice shy of a loaf. Then she smiled and I knew she thought he was cute going on like that.

“He’s right, though,” I whispered to her. “Santa isn’t coming until we go to bed.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Remember, Candace? You know, your biggest wish of all? He can’t give it to you until you go to sleep.”

“Oh. Oh!” The light finally dawned in my friend’s eyes. She bustled off towards my room as I took a quick visit in the restroom.

“You want me to do what?!”

“You heard me Abby. I know you can do it. Think a little like Agent Black and be tough.”

“And you expect me to be tough looking like a pixy? I’m having a tough enough of a night just pretending to be a manly man as Kylie’s date! Now you’re splitting me in two for this fools errand–”

“It’s not a fools errand! Once you’ve managed the first part you can invoke the glamour I’ve arranged to continue my little theatrical production. By the end of the night, all should be well!”

“Riiiight! Okay, whatever! Your wish is my command, O’ Great One.”

I hated it when Abby went formal on me, but at least she was doing what I wanted her to do. I crossed my fingers as I hurried on to bed, praying for sugar plum dreams in the place of what could easily become nightmares.

“No I don’t have a reservation! My girlfriend is in there and I want to see her now!”

“Sir, if you don’t leave immediately, we will call the authorities.”

“That won’t be necessary, Alfred. I believe that the lady in question is right here with me.”

Roger glared at the 6’4” man with movie star looks, before turning hurt, puppy dog eyes toward Kylie.

“I…thought we had an understanding, Kylie?”

“What understanding? That you would ignore me while I dutifully waited for you? That you wouldn’t touch me as if I was…was diseased?!”

“That isn’t why I’ve been avoiding you, Kylie! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“So, you being with me is going to hurt me?”

“It’s not like that, Kylie! I’…I’m afraid I’ll hurt you…well, you know. By rejecting you.”

“Not going to happen with me around, my friend,” Tall, Dark and Handsome interjected.

“I’m not your friend, buddy! And stay out of this!”

“Roger! Stop behaving like a child! Now, give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave this restaurant with my charming date. And it had better be good!”

“What about this?”

Roger grabbed Kylie and bent her over at the waist, just like an old time movie star might do with his leading lady. He bent down with her and kissed her savagely, ignoring the sputtering maitre d’.

When they came up for air, Kylie managed to gasp that they might continue their efforts at her apartment.

This time, Roger did not hesitate.

The will-o’-the-wisp woke Paul Jackson from his troubled sleep. Ever since arriving home and hearing that Tom was over-nighting at a friends, he had been unsettled. Victoria wasn’t telling him something, and had even distracted him from visiting Tom’s room after dinner, using sex to bring him to their bed. Not that Victoria was exactly a prude, but she rarely initiated their play, even after a long separation. Paul had just about decided to get up on his own and satisfy his concern when his turning brought a faint glimmer to his partly closed eyes. The glimmer moved and slipped out the door to the master bedroom and faded down the hallway. Paul carefully got out of bed to avoid disturbing his wife and crept out to see if what he thought he had seen was more than just a midnight delusion. Sure enough, the glimmer bobbed down the stairs and continued into their basement. Having a basement was somewaht unusual for a Florida home, but something Paul had insisted on. The basement could be used for a refuge if the degenerates trying to take over the schools and government started rioting after the good, God fearing folk finally made a stand.

At least, that was what his pastor said. He preached that the degenerates from Hell would try to drag all people down with them. Paul wasn’t convinced of that, but he found all such perversions repugnant, so he continued to follow the Good Shepard Malachi and his flock. Victoria would have none of it and Paul had given up on Tom after the boy broke a stained glass window at their small church.

Paul recalled that he was following a flickering light and made haste to reach the basement stairs. Sure enough, it seemed to have waited for him before fading around the corner at the bottom of the stairs. Paul followed, wondering if he should have picked up his deer rifle on the way. He shook off the thought with a snort. Why bring a rifle to fight a bit of light? But then, if there was anything to the light, might he not need a weapon?

As Paul made the turn at the bottom he became aware that the light had transformed into a tiny little woman. She appeared to have delicate wings on her back and was quite voluptuous for her diminutive stature. Paul rubbed his eyes and shook his head. Either he was hallucinating or he was dreaming.

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Past,” intoned the pixy in a pipsqueak imitation of a much larger individual. “Oh, crap! I’m your ghost, Paul, and I’ve come for you. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Okay, I’m dreaming.”

The pixy heaved a sigh larger than her tiny body appeared able to support, jiggling assets that on a larger version would have bugged out Paul’s eyes, but on the pixy just made the staring man rub his tired orbs once more. She jumped to her feet and approached the doubting man, pulled back a fist the size of a Brussels sprout and sent it blurring at his midsection. Paul went flying as her tiny fist connected with the force of a martial artist’s staff, expertly wielded.

Stars danced in his vision and Paul tried vainly to get his breath back. When he could finally gasp out an intelligible thought he admitted to the tiny ghost’s reality. No dream could have hurt that much!

“Good! Now I will take you into a past. It is not yours, but it is a real past, filled with real people. We will visit many more before the night is through. We will do so until you see the light.”

The tiny ghost smirked. “Get it? The light? I came as a will-o’-the-wisp, a light, and now you must see the light before I let you go.”

Paul just stared stupidly at his nemesis, wishing for dawn to arrive.

“Oh, for crying out loud! No one appreciates a clever bit of dialog these days!”

The pixy reached for his hand and Paul flinched away to no avail. She caught his ham hand by one finger–all she could manage with her tiny paws–and dragged the protesting man through a wormhole into another dimension.

Owing to Janelle’s earlier preparations, Abby was able to utilize a glamour to make Paul believe he was traveling by mysterious means, while remaining safely in his basement hidey hole. The images that he would be exposed to were also glamours, concocted with what knowledge they had of events that, while real, would never be known in detail.

So the first scene that Paul encountered with his little aide was an apartment in Chicago, Illinois, over ten years in the past. There, sitting on a couch were two people. One, a beautiful young woman had been talking, but whatever she had said seemed to infuriate the man next to her.

He began beating the woman about her head and face. She screamed but he would not stop.

Paul had always been taught to protect women and what he saw made his blood boil. That creep would kill her! He moved forward and made a grab at the man, only to find empty air where the bastard had been standing. Paul backed away and once again saw the man as he continued beating the woman, now covered in blood and no longer recognizable as beautiful.

Paul turned to the pixy, furious at his impotence. “Let me help her! Don’t you care about what is happening?”

Tears ran down Abby’s face. She cared very deeply about what had happened that night. She remembered the news accounts of the time and, even in her world hating male persona, been disquieted and repulsed. It would only be after her transformation that she would truly understand the depth of her connection to those events. She would then know that the woman in that room could very well have been her–if only she had been so lucky to have found her way to the woman inside of herself on her own.

“Her name is Christian Paige. She was 24 when that man killed her for the crime of wanting to be what she truly was. Watch, Paul. Watch!”

Paul turned reluctantly to the scene before him, watching as the man used a large knife to plunge deeply into the defenseless woman’s body, time after time. The coroner would later say that any one of those cuts would have likely ended the poor woman’s life.

Paul turned back to Abby, pleading with his Ghost of Christmas Past to take him from the scene, but Abby would not relent.

“The room is aswim in blood now, Paul. I’ve always thought that color to be…quite beautiful. Don’t you agree that the room is so much more attractive now that a transwoman’s blood has been spilled?”

“What do you mean? That is a woman there, for God’s sake! How can you be so heartless?”

“No, Paul. She isn’t a woman. Not according to you and the false prophet you follow. ‘She’ is an abomination unto the eyes of your God. She is less than human, is she not?”

“No. No, I don’t mean it like that. Maybe she isn’t a real woman, maybe she is a pervert, but she doesn’t deserve to die like this! Tell me that at least the killer was caught and punished!”

“No, Paul. I cannot, for that would be a lie. The killer was never caught. Isn’t it fitting that the righteous hand of God should not be stayed by man?”

Paul stood before his tutor, numb from the visions of violence. Unable to think any further.

“Come, Paul. We have much more to see this night.”

“Please, no. I beg of you. It’s not like there are many of that type. How many murder victims can you show me? No, I do not wish to see more, even if you can! They’re misguided souls, but they do not deserve that! I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Oh, Paul,” Abby tsked, “I think not.”

Paul wished heartily that he could only remember his scream of anguish as the ghost took him onwards, but he remembered much, much more.
 

When next Paul was aware that he stood in his basement it seemed as if an eon had gone by. An eon in Hell, where monsters preyed on those who only wanted to live as they knew they must. Murder and rape followed murder and rape until Paul literally puked his guts out. Unseen by him, Abby had to quickly corral the evidence before he came to for the next act of their little Christmas Carol. She was waiting for him, this time clothed in the glamour of a happy Father Christmas.

Despite the reservations she had voiced with Janelle, she could see Paul’s spirit breaking down. Unlike the Carol of renown, the worst had begun the evening and had taken its toll. Or had it been the worst? Only time, and a couple of ghosts, would tell.

“Onward, my good fellow! Onward! The night is still young and you have much to see!”

It was telling that by this time Paul no longer protested his guide’s enthusiasm. He followed Father Christmas as the jolly man led him through a portal once more, never realizing his feet moved him through a small circle in the middle of the basement. Images flashed past and then settled on a theater where two young girls were enjoying a movie with their dates. Or, rather, they were enjoying their dates with a movie. Despite being much older, Paul found himself growing slightly aroused by their innocent passion.

“Do you know who you look upon, Master Paul?”

“How should I know? I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

“Oh, please! How can you deny your own child?”

“What are you talking about? Neither of the boys is Tom!”

“You hide from the truth, even after all you have been shown? Look closely at the girl on the right, the one kissing the tall and awkward boy. She seems much too pretty to be going out with someone like him, yes? Attractive people should only date attractive people? And those born as boys must never, ever think of themselves as girls and think to date boys, now should they?”

“Well, yes. I guess. This night has so confused me, ghost! I don’t know what to think! Now you say my boy is there before me but all I see are two strangers dating a couple of attractive young girls. I can’t think straight. Just tell me what you mean and be done with me!”

“Better than that, my good man. Better than that! I will show you!”

With that they were off, winging across the cosmos to a house so very familiar to Paul. At the door were the two girls and a man Paul recognized as the police Lieutenant of their little burg. The door opened and Victoria welcomed one of the girls in as if she was her daughter, inviting the others in as well. Paul watched as the girl ascended the stairs and approached Tom’s room. Opening the door, she entered, pulling Paul along in her wake as if he was the phantasm and not her. Paul did not recognize the room he entered, as it was completely redecorated. All frills and lace and girly touches. A vanity replaced Tom’s seldom-used desk, with lighted mirror and cosmetics arrayed as if for battle.

The bewildered man watched as this beautiful creature began to disrobe, carefully hanging her dress in the closet before removing her bra to reveal a flat, boy-like chest. She continued down until Paul, unable to look away, saw that the girl was not a girl. “She” dressed for bed, in a sheer nightgown and cotton panties. Removing her makeup at the vanity, her face finally took on some semblance of her true sex. Despite the haircut and earrings, Paul could now see that the child readying for bed was his son, Tom.

“No! No! This is not happening! You show me lies, spirit! My son is not a…a…”

“A perversion of nature? An abomination?”

Father Christmas laughed his deep belly laugh as he looked upon the devastated man. “You prideful, arrogant, little man! Who are you to say what is God’s will? You see before you a daughter you never knew you had. Her name is Candace and she loves you dearly, though her fear of your anger is almost too much for her to bear.”

Father Christmas turned away from Paul. “Come, little man. My work is done this night. I will leave you in the hands of the Ghost of Christmas Future. Heed his words as you may. They are but the truth.”

With that, Paul found himself alone in the basement. The light grew dim, and what Paul had thought to be mere shadow resolved itself into a dark spectre. Paul fell to his knees, knowing what this latest apparition meant. It was too much, just…too much.

“This can’t be happening! Please, go away! This is all in my mind. I’m dreaming, only dreaming.”

The spectre pointed to Paul’s stomach and gestured. He knew what the ghost wanted, but he could not bring himself to do it.

“Alright, you win,” he said in abject surrender. “Under my shirt is a bruise forming of a tiny fist, courtesy of the Ghost of Christmas Past. I can feel it even now. The pain in my gut is not only due to the scenes you ghosts have revealed me.”

Paul drew himself up straight, determined to take like a man what the ghost had to show him.

The scene shifted once more, returning to that feminine room that once was Tom’s. He was there, or rather a future Paul Jackson was, all filled with rage and screaming at Candace that she was really Tom and a perversion of nature. He would harbor no abomination under his roof. Victoria was there as well vainly trying to get him to back away from the cowering figure huddled on the bed.

It was finally too much for Candace and she ran tearfully from the room, dragging a little daypack with all that she had apparently been able to gather through the raging tirade of her father's. She ran down the stairs and out the front door. Paul followed and yelled at the top of his lungs that he had no child and that the creature leaving his house must never come back. With a violent slam of the door, Paul turned to his wife and glared at her, daring the woman to say a single word. She did not. Victoria slowly walked back upstairs and closed the bedroom door in his approaching face. The knob was locked when he tested it. Future Paul turned away to make his bed in the basement, safe from the perversions of the world.

The scene shifted. Victoria was leaving the house, her bags packed. Paul silently watched from a window as the love of his life walked away to a waiting cab. The car was in his name and she would have nothing to do with anything of his.

She turned around just before she got into the cab. “I’ll find her,” she shouted at the house, “you’ve made her hide from us. She’s changed her name, but I will find her. You will not destroy her life as well!”

Another scene. Candace was talking to some friends when a man came up and began to scream at her about being a fairy. She shot back that he had liked her plenty good the other night, to which her friends laughed the angry man away. The group broke up eventually, Candace returning to her nearby apartment. Paul watched as the inattentive girl forgot to lock and bolt the door, merely sliding the flimsy privacy chain onto its catch. It would not be enough. Paul knew it would not be enough and he screamed at his daughter more loudly than the angry man had. He screamed until he grew hoarse. He screamed until the man broke through the chain and came into the room that held his precious child.

The spectre stood at his side and would not let him look away.

Paul came to his senses gradually, feeling the pain in his belly from all that had gone on that horrid Christmas Eve. He was reeling from the onslaught that he had been forced to endure. Somehow he found the will to make it out of the basement, pausing a moment before trudging slowly up the steps to the second floor. He thought to pass Tom’s room and continue on to a bed that he desperately wished to collapse in, but found he could move not a step further.

His hand moved of its own volition to open the door he had not entered since going on his last long haul. Inside he saw the room presented to him by the Ghost of Christmas Present. It was exactly as in the vision. It was all true. He no longer had a son.

But he had a daughter and he would be damned before he saw his child brutally murdered for only being what she was on the inside!

Paul noticed that the first rays of Christmas morning were lighting the sky through Candace’s bedroom window. Energy flooded him with new determination and he strode to the master bedroom.

“Woman! How could you keep Candy from me? I want my daughter back here as soon as we can go and collect her!”

Victoria woke up with a start. It took her several moments, precious moments to understand that her husband knew about Candace and actually wanted her in his life. With that knowledge came joy and she kissed him with abandon, only desisting when her husband managed to break away.

“We’ve time for that and much more, my dear! But for now I want to collect my daughter. I’ve been a fool too long and will not waste another moment of our lives in that state.”

On their way out to the car she passed right by the invisible pixy, slowing as she sensed some stray air current.

“If you’re here somehow, Janelle, or if you’ve sent someone to help us…thank you! Thank you ever so much!”

The two swept out the front door, leaving the pixy to her thoughts. Abby dusted off her palms and made sure the front door was properly locked. Her job was done and all was well on this truly wonderful Christmas day.

“Damn, that was a long night!”