Richard’s Way
Jennifer Christine
 
Prologue
 
As I flopped into the passenger seat I realised that my life sucked.
“Good day at school dear?” Mum intoned using that slightly patronizing voice that mum’s always seem to use on their children.
Almost as bad as using a lacy hanky to wipe your face after an ice cream and using her spit to dilute the crud round your mouth — thankfully that hadn’t happened for a while — though I guess all it would take would be an ice cream to melt inappropriately to find out if it was still likely.

“God mum, this school is awful, why do I have to go? You know I already passed my entrance to Uni and got a four point zero scholarship.”

“Do stop using that awful American slang dear, it isn’t nice.”

“Neither is ‘Do stop’ — it’s tautologically not allowed.” I winced as she clashed the gears and we pulled out into the traffic.

“Well, why do I have to go?” I re- started the conversation which had been craftily sidelined by her illustriousness, my mum.

“Socialisation skills sweetie. Your therapist says they aren’t up to scratch and you’re not going to be comfy at Uni if you can't communicate with your fellow students.”

I groaned inwardly. There’s a lot of things the Uni students aren’t going to accept about me as well as the integration aspect.
At 15 and looking like Hayley Mills in Whistle Down the Wind, I’m not going to be everyone’s idea of Macho Man.

Yeah I know, I don’t look anything like a boy, never mind macho.
Which is why this school thing sucks. I have more bruises on my body than I have clear skin, though I have to admit the bullies are pretty good at making sure none are visible outside my clothing. No one likes a clever dick and I am just that. Clever with a capital ‘C’ .. My IQ is over the top of somewhere north of 165. They keep measuring it and it keeps going up — like my brain is growing or something.

Richard Drury Coombs. It raised a laugh the first time they heard it and after that it was a tool to be used to stab my self worth. Dick Comes. Thanks mum.

As we neared our gate, it started to open as the sensor noted the nearness of the car. You’d think that was a bit fancy and posh, but actually I made it one wet weekend out of a 3mhz walkie talkie and an old printer motor. The house was nothing special. Not to me anyway. It was moderately big, but not for the area. 5 Bedrooms on 5 acres — well dad’s a bank wallah, what do you expect?

“Make sure you stay clean tonight, your aunt and uncle are coming round with the twins. I don’t want them holding their noses as you walk past like last time.” Mum admonished while looking over her long distance glasses at me. Myopic old thing that she is.

“Hey I was experimenting with chicken poo detonators (they didn’t work — well not the way I made them) I didn’t know the stuff was going to erupt like a volcano (seems I still have a lot to learn about chemistry)” I looked at mum and shrugged as I disembarked and quietly shut the door (I wasn’t about to slam it, it was too beautiful and mum loved her little Z3.)

When I got to my room, I dropped my backpack on the case stand in the walk-in and took out my gym kit and popped it down the laundry chute. Grabbed a robe and hit the shower. I hated the smell lingering on my clothes and me. That schooly smell, sort of pencil dust and silverfish shit mixed with Harpic and sweat. EEEeewww.

I spent a little while thinking over the weekend ahead and felt a little disappointed at not being able to spend some time as my alter ego. Well you guessed it not only did I look like Hayley Mills, I felt like her as well. Mum and dad have known for ages that all is not well with me — my therapist has told them that I have ‘issues’ about who I am. Though I don’t think he’s ratted me out about my crossdressing, dad would’ve gone ballistic.

At least I get to spend some time with the twins Angela and Sarah. They’re a year older than me and very pretty — but not terribly bright — well they’re average, but not in my league.

After I got dressed I decided that discretion being the better part of valour, I’d go down and be ‘available’ when the family arrived. I guess they’d be here all weekend as I noticed the pool cover was off and I could hear the pool pumps humming from my bathroom which was adjacent to the pool house. They don’t bother normally until Saturday if it’s a normal weekend.

Creatures of habit my folks.

“Hi, Rich,” my uncle grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. “How ye doing?”

“Fine Unc.” I nodded my head, exaggerating the movement of my arm which was still being pumped. The twins grinned and finger waved. Fine looking girls that they are.

“Good…. Good.” With nothing more to say worth recalling, he wandered off looking for a glass and some whisky. Mum had it ready as I heard him sigh as he entered the lounge and the tinkling of ice confirmed his grip around the cold reviver.

I flopped onto the couch where the twins had already ensconced themselves and grabbed for the TV remote. Angela was quicker and grabbed it first. “Na-na. Beatcha.” Sticking her tongue out.

“How old are You?” I rolled my eyes and grinned. Her free hand holding me away from the remote, slipped down my chest and rested over my breast before I could stop it.

Suddenly her eyes went saucer shaped — “Richard!” She almost yelled.

“Shhh — keep it down for Christ’s sake.” I went red and grabbed for her hand which was probing my torso.

“My God Rich, what have you done? You’ve got boobs.” She stage whispered — Sarah got interested fast.

Doomed — Oh God — Oh God! I’ve been trying to keep it a secret (obviously).
Right. Think.

I grabbed Angie’s wrist and gently removed it from where it was squeezing, “Please don’t Ang, it’s a bit sensitive at the moment.” I hesitated. “Christ, I hope you guys like me enough to keep a secret?” I turned the prayer into a question.

They both nodded with conspiracy written all over their faces, while I tried to get some air into my lungs and stop the prickling of new tears behind my eyes — I didn’t want red eyes — mum would think I was on pot — she’s really against that….

“My room, now,” I urged desperately, slipping off the couch and turning towards the door.

“Nice tush too,” Ang giggled. Last thing I wanted was one of the ‘units’ to hear.
“For God’s sake, keep it down.” I opened the door and checked the hall.

“We’re just going up to my room to play some music mum,” I shouted.
“Ok, not too loud, I want you to be able to hear when I call — I don’t want to have to phone you to get your attention, like last night.” Mum instructed as per. I was surprised she didn’t add, ‘leave the door open’.

“And leave the door open.” Guffaws from uncle and ‘fat chance’ accompanied the additional unnecessary codicil.

“Come on, let’s get this over with.” I ascended, trailing the twins.
I put the stereo on loud enough to cover conversation but quiet enough so we could hear approaching steps.

“So what’s going on Rich?” Sarah quizzed quietly looking at my chest for signs of unnatural shape.

“Well I wanted to declare this as a fait accompli when I was 16 — next month, but it looks like I have no alternative but to include you in my plans.” I looked from one to the other.
“I’m going to tell you this on the understanding that you don’t divulge any of it until after my birthday. Is that understood?” I searched their faces for signs of plot shifting.

Sarah and Angie both held out their Pinkies in synch. “Pinkie promise.” They said, also in synch. I shook their pinkies and settled on the bed they sat on the long stool at the dresser.

“Well, here’s the story.”
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OK folks….. DO I continue?
There’ll be a gap of a couple of weeks until I’ve got a fair bit done if you want to read more.