The idea for this story came from a short, inspirational email that was shared with me a few years ago. I thought the message behind it was quite lovely and wanted to somehow turn it into a story to share with everyone. It took almost two years for a story to develop where I could use it in a way to honor the beauty it was written in. If I knew of the original author, I would like to include them...but as with much that is passed around in cyberspace, they are unknown. All I can do is say, thank you for the inspiration...I only hope my story does justice to your beautiful, and uplifting message.

The officer jerked me forward and pushed me into a lone chair in the middle of the darkened chamber, above me sat the 6 members that made up the Guardian Court. The center figure leaned forward until only his chin was in the dim light. "Anderson Kemplar, how do you plead?"

"What the hell?" I spat, "why am I trussed up here, like some Thanksgiving turkey?"

"You are being detained," he replied, showing no dynamic in his voice.

"For what?" I shouted, my voice echoing loudly.

"Silence!" his voice boomed, sounding much like a clap of thunder. "The time for questioning is over!"

"Screw you!" I hissed. "You've got nothing that you can hold me on."

"We don't intend to hold you...we intend on rehabilitating you," came the quick response.

"You have spent so much of your life crawling upon the back of your fellow man, taking everything and giving back absolutely nothing. Tell me boy, what do you know of faith, trust or love?" The voice came from all around me, yet somehow I knew which of the Guardian's were speaking.

I sneered, "Those are for the weak. I have no use for any of them!"

Suddenly, another of the judges leaned forward. "And that is why you are here," she scolded.

The first judge again leaned into the light, where only his mouth was seen. "You are sentenced to begin life anew. Only, you won't have the privileges or magic as you once possessed. Your life will be much simpler, your struggles will be real, and the time will be of our choosing!"

"Like hell I will! You can't make me do anything I don't want to do...we have laws against that!"

"True," the fourth judge spoke as he leaned into the light, "and it seems that you have ignored each and every one of them!"

"I won't go. You can't make me!" I hissed.

Another judge leaned closer to the light; I could only see the outline of his head as she spoke. "Your sentence is to be carried out immediately. Our judgment will be final!"

"Some day you may look back on this hour as the beginning of a new life, a transformation of your very soul perhaps..." The voice paused then a shadow leaned forward until I could just see his scowling mouth. "...However, I doubt it!"

"Yeah, and screw you!" I shouted loudly, my voice echoing within the empty chamber.

The very first judge smiled and leaned into the light, "Since you are so interested in screwing others, and have some strange likeness to throwing the word around, you have helped us find the perfect punishment for you."

Another leaned forward, as yet this one had not spoken. "Yes. In that form you will remain until you can show us that you can do all three. Trust, Love and have Faith! Now be gone and leave our sight, accept your fate like a man."

*** 1 ***

I raised my head and rubbed at my temples, somewhere behind me a radio played ancient music that was from the mid twentieth century. The room was stifling hot; a fan sat on a chair and oscillated back and forth, pushing the air before it in a futile attempt to cool the room.

As I was attempting to take all of this in, a hand suddenly shot out and held out two white pills. "Here take these, they should help that headache of yours."

In shock, I shifted away from the elderly man, my movement almost causing him to spill the glass of water in his other hand.

"It's this damn heat, I swear," he said as he ran a red kerchief across his forehead, wiping the perspiration away. "Spooked you...didn't I?" he finally said with a laugh. "Did you doze off?"

"I...I don't think so," I stammered. I could feel my heart racing within my chest. He still stood beside me and held the pills in one hand and the glass in the other.

"You going to take these, or am I supposed to be your pill caddy for the duration of my life?" I hesitantly reached out and took the pills from him and tossed them into the back of my mouth. He held the drink higher and moved it closer to my hand, I took it and drank down the cool liquid.

He took the glass from me and started walking away. He paused momentarily at a photo on the wall of a young man in a uniform. "Don't need to worry boy, I'll see to her."

"Her who?" I asked, slowly falling in behind him.

He paused and glanced over his shoulder, "Her? Her...you! This damnable heat must be cookin' your brain!"

I quickly looked down, "Oh shit!" I hissed as my eyes took in my feminine form. "They made me a girl!"

The elderly man laughed, "I guess so...well, at least enough of one to have kept my Blaine, interested in you!" He rounded the corner and out of my view snickering to himself.

I could just make out my reflection in the glass of the picture, "Damn, they made me into a freaking girl!" I groused softly to myself.

I leaned against the archway that separated the two rooms, my head resting upon my forearm, light brown hair spilling down into view. I glanced back behind me quickly, through another archway I could just make out a sink. I stumbled into the bathroom and pressed the little button at the bottom of the light mounted on the wall.

"Where the hell did they put me?" I wondered aloud as I closed the door behind me, a full-length mirror with beveled glass was mounted to the back of the thick door. I was stunned by the reflection I cast back in the mirror, I appeared to be no older than perhaps twenty-three. This girl they had trapped me into was attractive with large blue eyes and full deep red lips.

My eyes traveled down, she wasn't huge in the bust area but some would classify her as pleasantly endowed. She had a tapered waist with a very well put together figure. Her arms were slender with deep red polish adorning her oval fingernails. Her hair was set in a practical style, though something you might have seen during the 1940's. My eyes were drawn toward my ears, where large blue earrings weighted down each of this reflection's lovely lobes.

The hot breeze shifted the flimsy curtain behind me and I could see that the window was open. I moved closer to it, momentarily forgetting my inspection. Looking through the rusty screen was like watching an ancient black and white film right out of the late 30's or early 40's...only for me, it was in color. Not far away, beside a barn stood an antique Farmall tractor, behind it was hooked up a strange looking apparatus that resembled a great fork with curved tines.

In a lot beyond it was parked a large car. Great round headlights sat upon each fender. An old white Shepard dog lazily licked the water that was held suspended from the well pump's spigot. "Bear...No!" I heard a young voice sharply say.

I craned my neck until I could almost make out the voice's owner through the rusty screen. Slowly a young boy approached the dog, and with all the strength he could muster, pulled him away from the spigot by his collar. The youth could have been no older than four or five.

"Grandpa says you gotta get your drinks from the creek, just like all the other livestock. Come on, I'll walk you down there." He and the dog crossed more into my view and headed down the dusty lane toward a very dry and sun scorched pasture.

The boy looked much like the image of the man in the picture, yet there were subtle differences that I couldn't place my finger upon. I had no choice to assume that the man I had met earlier was his grandfather, but the differences in the boy's appearance became clearer as I turned to face the mirror.

I could see traces of me as well in the boy's features, "I must be related..." I surmised as I began reaching for the door. As my left hand fell onto the porcelain knob, I noticed the golden band adorning my ring finger.

"Oh damn..." I sighed, "I must be the little boy's mother."

It was bad enough to know that the Guardians had transformed me into a woman and dropped me somewhere during the late 1930's or 1940's, but for them to saddle me with marriage and a child was almost too much. I fell against the tiny sink, which was attached at the back, but the front rested upon long steel legs. Turning back toward the vanity I let the water trickle in my hands and splashed some against my flushed cheeks.

My knees felt close to buckling. To prevent falling, I pushed the lid down on the stool and sat until I could gather my bearings. After several long seconds, I heard a soft knock against the bathroom door.

"Do you know where Ben is? I asked him to do a chore for me and when I went to check on him...he was gone."

My mind worked feverishly, "He took...the dog...down to the creek for a drink of water." I only hoped that was the boy's name, and it was a gamble.

"All right...if you see him back up here, just tell the boy I'm looking for him." I heard him shuffle off and not long after, I heard the screen bang closed.

My immediate situation swallowed me whole, as I just realized the voice I had been using wasn't even my own. "Oh...God!" I gasped; the soft feminine voice coming to my ears was much too breathy. What made the ordeal I found myself in almost unimaginable was that unless I really thought about it, the voice came as natural from me as my own breath. "How could I have not noticed?" I wondered; panic filtering in, making breathing even more difficult in the heat.

I wiped my perspiration from my face, fingers trembling along my upper lip. I began to concentrate harder, where other strangeness' inserted itself. I felt myself growing lightheaded, for the first time I realized that my penis was no longer there, replaced by the female equivalent. "Dear God..." I cried as I hesitantly pushed my hand along the front of my lap. "It's gone!" My mind whirled as I could feel the breasts I now had, pressing into the soft cups of a bra. I no longer could help the tears as they burst forth from my eyes. "I've been doomed...." I fell forward, and bawled into the hand towel.

After several minutes of desperate crying, I pushed myself up and leaned on the sink. Once again I splashed water onto my face, the small droplets clung to my long eyelashes as I returned my gaze into the mirror. Once again the crying jag begun, I staggered against the door and held myself from falling. "Get hold of yourself man..." I whispered softly, which only caused me to start up crying again as I realized how much I was the opposite of my comment.

I sobbed until I was able to steel myself, resigning my fate to what was due me. They had made me in the image of a woman; of course I'd have the intimate parts of one! I raised my head, straightened my shoulders and...cried once again as I saw how pronounced my breasts seemed to be reflecting back in the mirror. Finally able to fight against the sobbing of the woman's body I was captive to, I straightened up once again and clenched my jaw defiantly.

"I'll not give in to this...those bastards can't win!" I glanced toward the window; outside I could hear the old man talking to the child...my anger softened. It sounded so vulgar for the words to escape my lips. "If I've got to try to portray this...this woman...I've got to try my best to get back my body as soon as I can...and to do that, I have to play along." I sighed, finally understanding that, like it or not, I would have to live like this woman. Only my hope, was that it wouldn't be for too long of a duration.

I stood and dried my face, re-hung the towel and opened the door. With the house momentarily empty, I quickly examined the lower floor. There were two bedrooms downstairs; one I assumed was the uniformed man in the photo and mine...the other must belong to the elderly man. On a desk near the end of his bed was an 8x10 photo of a woman, I assumed that this was, or had been his wife. She and the man in the uniform had a very similar smile, yet the older man and the image in the uniform could be none other than father and son, the woman in the portrait being...my mother-in law.

In the other rooms that I found downstairs was the living room with a huge ornate Zenith radio possessing a great face and dial, beneath the large circular dial were two smaller knobs.

I peered through a shade in the living room, lowered to prevent the hot afternoon sun from warming the interior of the house yet high enough to allow air from outside, to seep into the open window. What I saw appeared to be a working farm.

Cows lowed behind a white painted fence that ran parallel to the driveway. From another open window out of the direct sunlight I could see beyond, a gravel road, withered corn not much taller than I, as yet to tassel.

It didn't take much of a brain to figure that I was dropped into the life of a farm wife...smack into the middle of a dry spell. "But when?" I whispered as I folded my arms and turned toward the kitchen, once again pausing at the image of the man in uniform. As I stood quietly pulling a drifting lock of my light brown hair aside and tucking it once again behind my ear, I heard a noise just outside the kitchen door.

I strolled on through the kitchen and mildly took in what I saw as I passed. A long table with great elephant feet stood in the center, several wooden chairs lined the sides with one on each end. Not far away stood an old rounded refrigerator, the silver Kelvinator logo sparkled on its face.

Huge counters spanned along each side of a white sink, the back-splash made of the same material, almost as if it were created from the same mold. A window was directly above the sink; just outside I could make out the sparkling roof of an old box style sedan. At the end of the counter stood a white stove, its black burners suggesting years of use.

Once again I heard a strange tinkling outside; I turned my head back to the kitchen door. As I began heading toward the doorway, I spied a calendar on the wall, "August, 1944...okay, that would explain the era and the heat." Above the calendar was a little blue speckled clock in the shape of a teapot, "11:35...in the morning."

I pushed the door open slightly; the heat blasted my face as it entered the sun. Just off the porch a gray tabby cat lay in the shady grass beneath a huge flowerpot, overflowing with gigantic marigold flowers. The tinkling I heard was of a tiny group of tubes, suspended upon silvery strings. They danced in the overly warm summer breeze, each tube was of a different length and as they bumped against each other a strange and wonderful music emitted. I felt myself smile as I returned back inside the much cooler house.

Just inside of the kitchen, behind the outside door, was hidden another door. Thinking it might be nothing more than a pantry...I opened it. A step down led to a landing; from there I could see a stairway leading to a basement. Dusty boots lined the edge of the landing, obviously not needed due to the lack of rain. Nothing seemed of importance to me down there so I slowly pulled the door closed and returned to the kitchen.

I folded my arms and looked onto my new domain, the Guardian's had thrown me here to learn a lesson. My fate was to be a female in a household of males. I looked down, my folded arms just below my breasts. The simply feminine way I was standing created in me such an uneasy feeling that I quickly dropped my arms to my side and placed my hands on my hips.

That position didn't last long either as it only emphasized how wide my jutting hips had become, obviously molded that way by, and for childbearing. I frowned and continued out of the kitchen and back through the little hallway, turning right, I found myself once again facing the bathroom.

To my immediate right a door was ajar; through the opening I could see a stairs leading up to the second floor. I slowly pushed the door open and climbed the steps upward. Once at the top of the stairs, a tall banister wound around the stairs, directly in front was another open window. Warm summer breezes filtered through the screen. A lazy fly drunkenly walked upon the windowsill.

The area was large and open; a second door was visible at the end of the room. I walked down the side of the room, the banister upon my left. A single bed was placed behind the banister, the light covers in disarray. A strange wave of tidiness washed over me ad I found myself straightening the single, thin cover. Once done, I slowly turned and headed toward the open doorway.

The room beyond was painted a pale yellow, a small dresser stood near another open window directly opposite the one in the other room. A white crib stood off to one side, its mobile swayed in the hot breeze that wafted through the window. Neatly folded cloth diapers were stacked on a shelf; pins filled a glass jar on a table. It was obvious that this was a nursery.

I moved closer to the crib, it was empty; a little quilt was folded neatly in place. I ran my fingers along the rail, reaching out; I touched the mobile sending it swinging from my caress. "Where was the child that had occupied the crib? Could it have belonged to the boy and he just outgrew it?" I wondered.

I moved to the dresser and opened a drawer; tiny socks of various colors were paired and folded. Several had crocheted lace sewn to the edging, not something that you would think of a boy wearing. Behind me a board on the wood flooring squeaked.

"I'm surprised to see you up here...It's been a long time."

My heart jumped, I let out a shriek and wheeled around, startled beyond measure. Thoroughly shocked to my core, I stood panting and clutching my chest, still holding the lacy sock in my hand. "I..I'm..." I stammered, trying to rein back my frightened and overtly feminine response to being startled.

The old man moved further into the room, "It's good to see you in here, it means you've finally accepted...it."

"It?" I asked as I returned the little sock to the drawer where I found it.

"Ashley...the baby's death." He inhaled deeply and caressed the end of the crib. "It's never easy, hell, Agnes and I lost two before we had Blaine."

My mind grew silent, how sad for this woman that I've become to be dealt such a rough hand. From what I could glean from the little time I've been here, she had a son, lost a daughter and I wasn't exactly sure about her husband's whereabouts, other than he was somewhere in the military. Mulling her plight pushed tears into my eyes, the room blurred as I looked through them.

"Hey...hey, now Nicole...it'll be okay," he comforted as he embraced me, "You're young, and times will be better."

I nodded, unsure on how I should respond as he stroked my long hair in a fatherly fashion, and spoke softly, his voice full of emotion. "Tell you what, I'll go downstairs and start on lunch...you collect yourself and come down when you're ready."

A sob broke free from my throat; I quickly covered my mouth with my hand. "Where did that come from?" I wondered, my mind continued to race. "Is this woman's life starting to invade my own? Why would I care that she lost her second child somehow?"

The old man gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then left me alone. As he was walking away, he pulled his kerchief from his back pocked and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Was this the type of love the Guardians spoke of?" I wondered, "Would I ever be able to feel it, without it being forced upon me?"

As he disappeared from view, a great wave of pent up emotion washed over me. I found myself crying uncontrollably, which left me sinking down into a heap on the floor. "What's the matter with me?" My perplexed mind wondered. "It was as if everything this woman was feeling, suddenly rose to the surface in me."

After several minutes, the seemingly endless tears began to subside and I was able to finally stand. Finding a lace kerchief in my dress pocket, I dried my face and began to walk back toward the stairs. I left that room, but it seemed as though I had left something behind; something that I felt I would never really understand.

Slowly I climbed down, each step returning me into a reality that was as alien as the face of the moon. The closer to the bottom I neared, the better I could hear the conversation in the kitchen.

"She's still real tore up about losing Ashley...best advice I could give you is not to badger her with questions."

"Okay, Grandpa." A moment of silence later, then the little boy asked another question, "Is Ashley in heaven?"

"Sure she is..." the older man responded.

"Why did she die? I was sick too, but nothing happened to me!"

I heard a heavy sigh, "That's the strange way about death, sometimes it'll get you...sometimes not."

His grandpa paused for several seconds, then his voice tightened slightly with emotion. "Ben, take yourself as an example, the polio you had contracted, hardly affected you other than making you sick. When Ashley got it...I guess since she was so young, her body couldn't handle the virus and...and uh...the angels came and took her away to heaven."

"Oh," He responded his soft reply.

I swallowed hard, hearing their conversation endeared my heart to this small family. Choking back tears, I turned and headed into what I assumed was my bedroom to hide and cry, as I was about to cross the room's threshold, I heard him ask another innocent question.

"Is Daddy with Ashley in heaven?"

"No Ben...he's in Germany, fighting along with our other soldiers. But that means we have to pray harder for him...it isn't easy being so far away from those you love."

"Will we see Daddy again?"

"God willing..."

I felt my throat tighten; again tears begin to well in my eyes. I quickly entered and closed the door gently behind me, crossed the room and sat at the vanity and bawled until the tears left my system. This poor family had been through so much, why couldn't life just leave them alone and let them be?

When I felt I could cry no more I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes were red and swollen. I removed he smeared makeup with cold cream knowing I had to go into the kitchen sooner or later and I've never been one to hide, I reached out and picked up a tube of mascara, hesitantly I reapplied the makeup to my eyes.

I realized that what I had done, probably wasn't as good as the original host of this body had been able to do, I was pleased enough in its outcome. I sought out and found the tube of lipstick that I...she must have used this morning and lightly reapplied the sticky substance to my lips. My only thought as I pressed my lips against a paper to remove the excess color, was that the taste was something I didn't think I could ever become used to.

I stood up and rechecked my face in the mirror, finally satisfied that I didn't look so much like a blubbering female, I headed out the door.