Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1031.

The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1031
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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On Sunday morning, quite early–it was only eight o’clock, I took Billy for his second ride. He seemed to think he was up to it, so we went a bit longer and did fifteen miles. I also took him up on to the downs and we had to stop a couple of times for him to get his breath back. However, he kept insisting he was enjoying it. We pulled over into a car park at one of the viewpoints and stopped for a drink and some energy bars.

There were one or two cars about, presumably walkers or dog owners. We were busy admiring the view over the sea when a dog came bouncing up to greet us. Billy was initially a bit frightened but he soon relaxed when the boxer dog licked him and went bounding off back to its owner.

“Fancy seeing you here?” said a familiar voice.

I looked around and saw a familiar face, “I didn’t know you had a dog,” I said.

“Yes, dumb animal is the right description for him, too.”

“Is that Dr Sage, Mummy?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Good grief; you haven’t cycled out here on a Sunday morning, have you?”

“Yes, we have.”

“Good for you and your daughter, sorry I’ve forgotten your name um–“

“It’s Billy, and I’m a boy.”

“Whoops, sorry about that, I forgot your mother had boys as well. You haven’t reconsidered about the UN job, have you, Cathy?”

“No, why?”

“It’s still open. I now have three professors who think you should do it.”

“I don’t have enough seniority to do it, it requires a professor to do it.”

“They don’t seem to think so.”

“You’re not offering enough money.”

“Probably not, but it’s a hugely prestigious appointment.”

“If it was, you’d be trampled in the stampede for it.”

“Oh we’ve had several applicants, but none we consider suitable.”

“So how come I’m suitable?”

“You’ve a proven record of producing a quality product, whether it’s counting dormice and promoting their conservation, or setting up a national survey, or making a very educational but entertaining film. What you do, you do well.”

“I still have six kids to look after.”

“Employ someone to help.”

“Find someone else.”

“Have another think, Cathy. Talk it over with Tom and Simon.”

“I don’t have time.”

“I really think you should seriously consider it, I’ll email you the latest job description.”

“You sent me one before.”

“It’s changed–I’ll send it on to you.” He gathered his dumb mutt, put it in the back of his Land Rover and drove off.”

“Why did that man think I was a girl, Mummy?”

“I don’t know, kiddo–probably because he’s not used to children.”

“Is it because I was riding a girl’s bike?”

“No, sweetheart, he wouldn’t be able to tell without looking at it very closely.”

“Is it because I’m small?”

“I don’t know–does it bother you?”

“Sometimes I think you’d love me more if I was a girl.”

I put down my bike and bid him do the same, then I grabbed him and told him quite categorically, “I love you for who you are. Being a boy or a girl doesn’t make any difference to me, or to the others. We all love you.”

He hugged me and I heard and felt him sob. Why did this have to happen? Had I precipitated it? I hoped not, but perhaps I had unconsciously.

“They sometimes call me girly in school.”

“Who does?”

“Some of the kids–Danny has had fights because of it.”

“When did this start–recently?”

“No–for ages. It’s ‘cos I’m small, isn’t it?”

“You’re small and delicate looking.” and very pretty for a boy, “Tthat’s possibly why.”

“Is it nice being a girl?”

“It’s okay–yeah, I think so, but then I would, wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re a lady?”

“Yes, but I’m sure if you asked Daddy, he’d tell you it was better being a boy.”

“People wouldn’t laugh at me if I was a girl, would they?”

“I didn’t know they laughed at you now.”

“Sometimes they do.”

“Oh, sweety-pie, I wish you’d told me.”

“So you could make me a girl?”

“No, so I could stop them teasing you.”

“They said I look like you, they saw you on the telly.”

“Who are they, Billy?” I asked hugging him.

“Boys in my school.”

“Do you know their names?”

“Yes, but if you complain, I’ll get even worse bullying. Jonathon Napier’s mum complained and he ended up in hospital, where they pushed him in front of a car.”

“Good gracious–didn’t anyone do anything about it?”

“If they did, they’d have something awful happen to them.”

“Do you want me to see if I can get you transferred to another school?”

“What, like Trish and Livvie’s school?”

“That’s a girl’s school, silly.”

“Maybe I’d be better off being a girl–Trish an’ Julie are.”

“Yes but they felt they were girls inside. They haven’t chosen to be girls because they thought life would be easier, in fact, it probably makes life harder–talk to Trish about it.”

“I have, she said I’d like their school, apart from the religion stuff.”

“You talked with Trish about attending a girl’s school?”

“Yeah–well, about her goin’ to it, an’ I said it sounds nicer than my school an’ she said I’d like it there.”

“Except you have to be a girl.”

“Maybe that’s what I shoulda been?”

My stomach began to flip over and over–in some ways our household is the safest place in the universe to ponder such things, and even try them, but what would social services say? I need to speak with Stephanie, and she needs to see this young man before he says or does something silly.

It was now nine o’clock and I called Stephanie, then asked her to hold. “If I ask Dr Stephanie to see you, would you talk to her about this?”

Billy nodded.

“Sorry Steph, look you’re not going to believe this...”

“Try me?”

“Billy is possibly wishing he was a girl.”

“Oh, not entirely surprising in your household, is it?”

“Well, I was surprised by it.”

“You must be the only one, then. So if he can’t beat ‘em he wants to join ‘em–is that it?”

“I think I’d like you to ask him that.”

“Okay–when d’you want me to see him?”

“When are you free?”

“I’m not, I come at huge expense–this afternoon, and the dinner had better be worth it?”

“Fish or meat?”

“Hmm–decisions, decisions–you don’t have any lamb, do you.”

“I have a leg of lamb for dinner, curiously enough.”

“You’re a bad liar, Cathy.”

“It can be arranged.”

“Say, sixish?”

“That’s fine, see you then.”

“What’s happening, Mummy?”

“Dr Stephanie is coming for dinner, and to speak with you.”

“I won’t have to wear a dress will I?”

“Not unless you want to–do you?”

“I don’t know,” he hugged me and burst into tears and it was all I could do not to follow suit. It was going to be a long ride back.

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