Sean talks himself out of an embarassing situation, or so he thinks…

"Have you ever dressed like a girl?" Fiona repeated her question.

"Why on this earth," Sean composed his own question back to her, "would you ask me that?"

"Because you look just like Kelly," Morag replied, following up the obvious intent of Fiona's question. "With a little make-up and the right clothes— Voilá ! You're her twin!"

"Don't you remember? I thought you were her twin sister when I first saw you in her room, anyway," Fiona reminded him. "Then while we were talking you admitted to having some musical ability—"

"Not to mention that you seem to like the kind of music that we do," Morag added.

"We'd like you to pretend being a girl for a while," said Fiona. "Won't you consider it? Please? Just until Kelly gets well enough to perform with us again."

Sean was at this point feeling very anxious, light-headed, and dizzy. He felt himself break out in a cold sweat and his face looked suddenly rather flushed. Any physician, especially a psychiatrist, would have diagnosed Sean's reaction as a classic panic attack. But he had never experienced such a set of symptoms before.

"Are you all right?" Molly asked him. "You don't look so well all of a sudden. You're perspiring, too."

"I dunno," he said. "I just don't feel comfortable with what you're askin'. I mean, people mistake Kelly 'n' me f'r each other all the time, but it's not like we try foolin' anyone about who we are. We got teased ov'r it more than enough as kids, 'specially me, 'cause we look so much alike. Don't need no more teasin' ov'r it now!"

"But we'd keep it secret for you— and for us!" Fiona promised. "Nobody else needs to know."

"I'm sure we could dress you up so that no one could tell it's you," Molly affirmed. "Besides, who would be expecting a guy on stage with us anyway? After all, we're an all-girl group."

"And that's just my point," objected Sean. "I couldn't sing with you. I've got a guy's voice. I'm a tenor."

"We need you more for keyboards, anyway," Morag said. "And we might be able to use you playing clarinet, too, and most definitely you'd fit in with the tin whistle."

"But you haven't even heard me play," he remarked. "Do you really think that because I look like Kelly that I would play the same style?"

"No, not because you look like her," Fiona answered, "but didn't you say you both had the same piano teacher?"

"Ladies," Sean addressed them. "I'm willin' to help you out for my cousin's sake, but why do I gotta dress like a girl to do it?"

"Because we're the Daughters of Danaan," Molly maintained.

"So couldn't they have a brother?" he offered as a riposte.

"Well, our mission, our reason for being is the feminist ideal," argued Morag. "For us to have a guy on stage might weaken our statement."

"I don't think it would be so big a deal," he disagreed with her, "especially if it's only temporary. Have you even considered anyone else? Is it so necessary that her replacement look like her? I would think it more important to have a stand-in who plays and sings like her. I'm sure that there'd be other redheads out there who can carry a tune or play keyboards."

"Well, you do have a point," Fiona conceded. "I guess maybe we're anxious about our performance coming up next week if she's not yet recovered."

"Look, ladies," Sean began, "I'm willin' to perform with you, but not to dress up like a girl. If you're willin' to let me on stage as myself, a guy, then I'll audition for you and you can decide if my style's right for your band. I'm all for helpin' out my cousin's friends, but I don't think that I should pretend to be Kelly. Besides, have you even considered how she might feel about doin' it?

"You haven't known her too long. Kelly's an honest sort o' girl. The only thing that gets 'er madder than bein' lied to is bein' lied for. And this dressin' up business sounds like it might be too close to that."

"So you're saying she might be upset if you dressed up like her?" asked Molly.

"Yeah," Sean affirmed. "She might feel that it's a kind o' dishonesty. D'you wanna take that chance?"

"I guess I never thought about that," admitted Moira.

"So girls," Fiona addressed her bandmates, "should we still ask Sean to audition with us and let him perform as a guy?"

"We should hear his audition first," answered Molly. "If we really like his style, then we can deal with costuming. Besides, if we want his male voice, then we may really need him to perform as a guy."

"That's a good point, Molly," Fiona noted. "How 'bout you, Morag?"

"Well, I think he'd be cute girl," she answered, "but he's not gonna let us dress him up, is he?"

"Nope!" Sean replied as curtly as he could. "Not at all!"

"Then I'll go along with Molly on this," Morag agreed.

"And you, Moira?" Fiona asked for the lone remaining opinion.

"Sean's already done us a favor today by telling us what Kelly's feelings on this might be," remarked the driver, "and filling in for her would be doing us yet another favor. Given that, I think the only condition he's asked for is reasonable and we should hear what he's got for us."

"So we clearly want to hear you audition for us, Sean," Fiona summarized, "and the band does seem willing to accept you as a guy."

"Well, that's good news at least," Sean said.

"But I'm just a little disappointed," pouted Fiona. "I so wanna see you wearing a skirt!"

"Oh, I'm sure you do," he retorted. "But it ain't gonna happen!" He smiled back at Fiona smugly.

"We'll hafta see about that some other time," giggled Morag.

"The next issue," announced Fiona, "is the audition. Sean, when would you be available?"

"I have all late afternoon and evening classes this semester," Sean answered. "I did have early afternoons open, but I've already agreed to cover that shift for Kelly at the coffee shop. I've got mornings available now. The only evening still open would be Friday or a weekend."

"We do have a rehearsal Friday night," Fiona told him. "We could hear you then if we can't work out anything sooner."

When their van arrived at campus, Sean thanked them for the ride and got out.

"So we're on for Thursday morning, then?" Molly asked Sean as she rolled her window down.

"Yeah!" he answered. "Do I need to bring anything along?"

"Just your clarinet and tin whistle," added Fiona. "I'll provide the wardrobe!"

With a grimace, Sean was on his way to class.

"Fiona, you're doing it again, aren't you?" Morag asked her friend. "It's been how many years now? Three? I guess it's time again, huh?"

Fiona was blushing noticeably. "But Sean would just be so cute! He's got her flaming red hair and the same twinkling bright green eyes, too."

"But are you up to the challenge of having to convince him?" Morag inquired. "He laid down the law this time. He's not going to go along with you. He's not at all like any of your past boyfriends— nor like your little brother!"

"No? We'll see about that!" Fiona retorted. "I'm going to get him on stage in the prettiest, most feminine skirts and dresses I can find. And this time it won't be just a once off, either."

"That's ambitious even for you, Fiona," warned Morag.

"Fiona? Morag? What's going on?" Molly asked. "There's more to this than what's happened to Kelly, isn't there?"

Fiona just grinned at Molly as Morag spoke up. "As far back as kindergarten, Fiona's passion has been to get boys into dresses," she explained. "Her brother, boyfriends, acquaintances, whomever— Fiona gets a thrill from petticoating guys."

"Don't forget that you had fun enough doing it yourself, sister!" Fiona reminded Morag, but then continued again with Molly. "Boys can look so cute once you get them dressed up. It's so much fun, although I haven't had a chance to do it in a while. But Sean's the one this time. I just have to get him wearing a dress!"

"But you do remember what happened with you and Cameron, don't you?" Morag asked.

"I can't believe you brought him up after all this time," objected Fiona, her voice trailing off in shame.

"And I can't believe that you haven't learned your lesson after all this time, either," Morag parried her friend's complaint. "You humiliated Cameron with your games and ended up devasting your own spirit as well. I'm the first to admit that getting boys to play dress up with us has been fun for me, too. But you need to know when to back off. That time you hurt yourself even worse than you hurt Cameron."

"Morag's right, Fiona," Molly added. "He's laid down the law for us about this. If he proves to have the musical talent and style that we need, then I'm all right with his conditions. If that's for him to be a new brother instead of a new sister for the Daughters of Danaan, then I'm okay with it."

"I have this feeling," Moira began, "that Kelly and Sean are closer than cousins. Sounds to me as if they're more like siblings. We'd better not do anything to Sean that would upset Kelly. Not just that, but we ought to just be decent to him, anyway."

Sean had thoroughly enjoyed the evening's lecture. The course, The Bridge to Asgard: Myths & Legends of Nordic Europe, was very absorbing for him. He was actually excited about writing a paper for the course. He'd even scheduled an appointment with his professor later in the week to discuss choosing a topic. He already had a few in mind and needed help in narrowing them down. He had been thinking of comparative mythology, maybe contrasting similar themes between the Celtic and Nordic mythoi. How had some of these stories so easily penetrated other cultures while others did not make it beyond the river valleys where they had originated?

Walking the few blocks from the lecture hall to his apartment gave Sean an opportunity to continue turning thesis topics over in his mind. But he really was thinking about mythology so that he would not be so worried about Kelly's condition. He had talked to Morgan during a break and learned that his cousin's diagnosis had been changed from concussion to coma. That was merely a formality, since she had remained unconscious beyond six hours without responding to attempts to awaken her. By the book, she was already comatose while he was visiting. But they had not advised him of that at the time.

Once inside, he put his backpack down on a table in his living room. He zipped it open and removed the day's contents, including his textbooks, notebook, and the large envelope that he had taken for Kelly, but as she had not awakened, he had kept it. He really had no idea what it was, although it seemed to be something of importance. He also took out his water bottle, his large thermos-style coffee mug, and his empty lunch kit. He would need to clean those, but that could wait until the morning.

Sean downloaded news from a local television station's website. He shivered as he learned that one of the video reports was about Kelly's accident that morning. They flashed her photograph from their high school yearbook as they showed footage of the street where the accident had happened. The automobile with which she had collided was in the video, the clearly shattered windshield confirming its obvious role in the accident. But he was not ready for the following scene as the camera cut to a mangled bicycle of forest green, decorated in his cousin's distinctively feminine style of Irish knotwork. He felt tears welling up, and when he saw on the ground next to it, her favorite lime green bicycle helmet, split across the top, it was more than he could take. He logged off the Internet and shut down the computer.

So, Sean took to his bed that night, worried about his cousin Kelly. After an uncertain period of time, tossing and turning, he sobbed himself to sleep.

In a deeply hidden corner of a mind, where dream and memory meet, a stream of alpha- and theta-waves recede allowing busier waves to establish themselves as rapid eye movement begins. From this tangle of beta- and gamma-waves emerge the images of a mindscape.

Two pre-teen children with twinkling bright green eyes, and long, flaming red hair sit at a vanity, intently studying their reflected images in its mirror. One wears a long-sleeved party dress of forest green velvet, hemmed well above the knees, trimmed with a Celtic border pattern in embroidered golden thread, and tights in a golden stretch-knit fabric. The other wears a similar garment of navy blue velvet, trimmed in white lace, and a pair of white lacey tights. Both wear shiny patent-leather shoes with single straps across the insteps. The one in green has black shoes; the other, white.

So, this happy pair of children, a girl and a boy dressed as twin girls, join hands and begin skipping beyond the frontier of this unconscious mindscape.

Needing yet more rest, this mind fades once again into the quiet, slow healing frequencies of delta-waves…