Richard's Way
by Jennifer Christine
Part One

Part one.

I looked from Sarah to Ang and back. They were leaning forward like they were about to set off down a piste.
“Hey relax, will you? This is the long version, I’m going to use you guys as sounding boards now that you’re on ‘the inside’.” I wasn’t sure how to start, so I tried to be flippant.

“Once upon a time,” I started.
“Give us a break already; just cut to the chase. What’ve you been up to and how long?”
Sarah looked liked her mum, Sandy (Alexandra) all gossip and eagerness.

“Ok. The short version?” They both nodded in affirmation of their desire to know the details of their cousin’s ‘stepping over the line’, which this obviously came under.
“Right. I’ve been seeing a therapist for depression, you knew that?” Nods. “Well, he was telling me all about the difficulty of my socialization, because I didn’t fit in mentally and physically with the norm for my age. There was some garbage about going out for a sport and trying some group activities then he said, ‘the best thing you can do is go back to school.’ I suggested he do something that involved solitary carnal acts.” The girls looked askance, then, when they interpreted the phrase, giggled on cue.

“Well then I asked him about his duty to my parents and whether I had his doctor/patient confidentiality or did he report to my parents. He told me that unless my life was in danger he could assure me of secrecy. Like you two are doing now?” Nods. I smiled.

“Right; I told him that I felt like I looked. He said nothing. ‘You know — like a girl.’ He said nothing — obviously wanting me to fill in the blanks. I said, ‘I think I am a girl, in here,’ pointing to my head.

“What makes you say that?” He arched his fingers at me and I really got shitty.

“Because my dad wants sex with me,” I rolled my eyes when he sat bolt upright. “Your body language is showing.” I was getting angry — “Of course my dad doesn’t want sex with me, you burke.” He started to look mildly annoyed and wrote something on a sheet in front of him.”

The twins giggled.

“Anyway, when he realised I was jerking his chain, he told me to settle down and be careful what I said. ‘Not all the things people say as taunts are fabrications, most of them harbour truths that can be dredged out.’ He really was a bit pissed at me. I apologised and he looked a bit more attentive.

‘Go on,” he said, “Why do you think you’re a girl?’

‘Because I’m not really a guy — am I? I look like a girl, yeah I know my hair is short and I’m wearing boy’s clothes, but if you look at my face and build, it’s girlish, isn’t it?’

‘Well a little underdeveloped I suppose,’ he admitted. ‘But not unusual in 14 year olds.’”

Sarah piped up, “You mean this was over a year ago?”

“Oh yes, sorry I should have said. Moving on. The outcome was, he changed his tack and from there he started to make headway where he hadn’t before. Eventually he told mum that I was in recovery and that I should enroll in School for a year before I went to Uni -. Which was all very well but he wouldn’t give me any help with the gender thing. He told me that 16 was the youngest they’d countenance anything and I couldn’t have surgery til I was 18 anyway.”

“Surgery????” they squealed in unison.

“Well you know, down there,” pointing at my nether regions.

They went pale, “You want surgery, like cut it off?”

“Well they invert it actually and remove the testes, but not until you’ve been living in role for two years.”

“In role? What? Like, as a girl?” Sarah went all silly and giggled behind her hand.

“Noooo, as a Horse… Of course as a girl, you nitwit.” I chided.

“It doesn’t explain the breasts and what’ve you got covering them up. It felt like a bandage? Angie pursued.

“I can’t very well parade around swing honking great tits now can I?” I was getting a bit exasperated.

Sarah’s eyes went round, “Christ, how big are they?”

“About a B, well almost,” I acceded. “They will be soon anyway.”

Angie looked at me, “I wondered why you hadn’t started your growth spurt puberty thing, you’ve been on hormones haven’t you?”

“Well DER.” Sarah laughed, looking at me she continued, “Where’d you get them, what’re you taking?”

“Even my therapist doesn’t know, he thinks he’s holding me in check with the power of his mind and suggestion, I’ve actually ‘suggested’ to him that he’s right and he thinks he’s winning! What a dill.” I shook my head.
Leaning over to my bookcase I reached into the DVD rack and took out a DVD case — “Groundhog Day” it read. I opened it and showed them the sheets of HRT in there.

“I’ve got some more downstairs in the garage with my bike stuff,- I bought it bulk when we were in Spain last year— no one would look in there. I’ve also got some testosterone blockers to stop me turning into a bloke. Jeez I had some nightmares last year when my voice got croaky — thankfully it was a cold — I thought I was done for. In the meantime mum and dad think I’m a slow developer and they’re quite happy for me to be top of the class and a weed — they’d rather brains than brawn.”

“Do you dress up?” Sarah smiled at me.

“Not much opportunity but I’ve got some stuff up in the dormer next to the gym - It’s only used for storage - so I can get some ‘girl time’ now and then.” I looked a little sad and Sarah came over to the bed and put her arm round me. I looked into her eyes and she was really empathetic. Tears were really stinging at my eyes now. One or two surfaced and rolled down my face.

“It’ll be ok, we’ll look after you, won’t we sis? We’ll get you over for slumber parties.”
Sarah wiped at my tears with her finger.

“Besides, you really need to get out.” Ang added.

“Can we see?” Ang nodded at my chest. I nodded and a little reluctantly lifted my shirt, the ace bandage showed through my singlet — I lifted the singlet and pulled the bandage up.

Angie’s eyes went round as plates. “Wow, they’re bigger than mine. I thought you were building up pectoral muscles, they’re all boob!”

“KIDS! Dinner time.” Dad’s voice penetrated the room like a foghorn. D flat!

I jumped and pulled my clothing back in order and we turned off the music and headed downstairs. I wiggled my pinkie at the girls and they both nodded. I smiled and hoped that it was enough.

“So what have you three been up to up there, you were very quiet?” Dad looked at me to see if I squirmed, how thick does he think I am to give myself away with body language?

“We decided to have a threesome — we just finished when you called us down, so that’s ok,” I smiled at him. Uncle Brad laughed and reiterated his earlier statement “fat chance.”

“Mum looked at the girls who weren’t as good at hiding emotions and frowned. The girls were blushing and couldn’t meet her eye. Mum’s eyes glimped over to mine and she tried to discern what I was hiding with the power of her mind — no chance — not in this lifetime mum. I smiled at her and poured myself a juice.
General hubbub ensued as we dished out the dinner. I occasionally caught mum looking at me oddly. Did she know something? I dismissed it. I shouldn’t have.
Generally after a family meal the ladies retire to the lounge and the men to the den where the pool table and cinema were. Tonight was no different. Though I really wasn’t in the mood. My revelations with the twins were unsettling me a bit and I found an excuse to retire early.

Before I could settle down to reading my book ‘Pride and Prejudice’ (again) the twins knocked and came in.

“We just came to say goodnight and to let you know we’re on your side and we’ll keep your secret. We brought a peace offering.” Angela held out a satin nightdress. It was oyster coloured with a square yoke and broad comfy looking shoulder straps — I loved it.

“Better not, someone is bound to catch me, sod’s law.” I smiled, looking longingly at the garment. “Catch you in the morning” They smiled and pulled the door shut as they left.

I was just brushing my teeth when there was a knock on the door.
“Yush a mini, mm fhrushing eye teesh,” I shouted through.
Mum opened the door and stepped into the room to wait for me, I hear the door click shut.
Checking my pjs were covering my knockers, I sauntered through into the bedroom.
“Oh hello mum, whazzup?” I had no idea why she was here….unless.

“Just why did the twins look so guilty when we asked what you were doing?” Mum looked fiercely into my eyes, trying to see the guilt which I didn’t have showing.

“Lord, I don’t know, they giggle and simper like most girls, perhaps they were thinking what they might have done with me in my room ….Eeeww, they’re my cousins, that’s like so gross.” I used my guile carefully. Mums are cluey about stuff like fibs and white lies.

“Well it all seems a bit suspicious to me.” She kept up the glimping at me. Looking me up and down.

“Christ will you stop it already, we didn’t touch each other. I’m not into that sort of thing.”

“What? You mean you’re gay?” Looking for a chink…

“Mu-um, I’ll say it again — they’re my cousins. I find the idea particularly obnoxious and a bit kinky to say the least. I am not gay, nor am I into drugs, contraband or other odd, illegal, immoral or frowned upon habits, indulgencies or pastimes, ok?” I was getting vexed now.

“Well I’ll let you off for now then.” Mum rose from where she’d parked her behind and walked to the door.
“Let me off WHAT? I haven’t done anything (not much I hadn’t!!).”

“We’ll see; you’re hiding something, I can tell you know, I can always tell.” She stepped through the doorway and pulled the door to. “Goodnight Richard.” She smiled at me as the moving door edge obscured her face.

I plonked onto the bed; that was really bad, those twins hadn’t said anything, yet mum was right on my case. Did she already suspect? Nah — not possible — was it?

I tossed and turned for quite a while that night before I succumbed to Morpheus’s call.

The twins spent quite a while in the pool over the weekend and for once didn’t tease me about my lack of swimming ability and try to entice me into the water.
(This was a phurphy — but let’s face it I couldn’t pop into the pool in my bathers with a set of jugs like I had — could I? — even a T-shirt would have been quite eye popping — considering wet T-shirts are nearly invisible and are used for titillation — sorry bad choice of word — in female denigration contests the world over. Where was I?)

“I do wish you’d join in more dear,” mum looked at me over the top of her gin glass. “The girls would love to have you play with them.” She coloured up. “I mean love to — um- appreciate you joining in.” Suddenly angry at her own foolish words, she went into the house to sort the lunch.

Uncle Brad grinned and shook his head, but didn’t turn to meet my eye. Sandy sighed and took another sip of her Chardonnay.

“BBQ’s hot,” dad called out to mum — who appeared with what looked like a whole cut up steer and a medium pile of chicken pieces on a plate. Over the top as usual. Never mind — Dad was excellent on the grill — he loved to cook far more than he loved to do the Bank thing, but he was pragmatic — he made a lot of money banking and he’d make a good chef in a small restaurant — which would you choose?

So it went on — you get the idea — wealthy family, too much spare time. At least dad didn’t like Golf. I sensed not one of those present were particularly happy except maybe the twins and they were almost trapped between two lines of stereotype.

When the twins and I got together later with the parentals out of the way playing bridge in the sun lounge Sarah, checking said units were all engaged in bidding, got back onto the subject she was interested in.

“We were talking last night and we were wondering if you had a name we could call you? Like a girl name?”

“There’s no way I’m going to tell you that, because no matter how you tried, you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to use it at the wrong moment.” I paused to draw breath. They interjected.

“No, no, honestly, we promise, we wouldn’t do anything like that. Please tell us.”

“You wouldn’t want to do it — it would just happen, because names are an autonomic response. You think of someone and their name comes out and if you think of me, my name wouldn’t be Richard, it would be…..something else.” Jeez I nearly did it myself.

“Spoilsport.” Angela pouted.

“No, really. Self preservation. I don’t want to be packed off to a military school to make a man of me — it’s too late for that. I’d be shagged stupid by half the cadets. You haven’t seen me with long hair — I daren’t even let my hair grow to normal length, the show (my life) would be over quicksmart.” I was trying to explain to the twins but it wasn’t getting through — they’d known me all my life — they didn’t process me as a girl in their head.

“Look, I’ll show you. Come with me.” I shouted out of the lounge towards the sun lounge. “We’re just going up to the Gym. We’ll be down in ten minutes.” Yes, I have to be that careful.

We slipped up the stairs to the second floor and I opened the door to the storage area which was in fact quite a large room with a skylight. I lifted a box out of a T chest and flipped open the lid, revealing a styrene head with a wig on it.

“Wow you’ve even got a wig.” Sarah’s eyes bugged out.

“No, it’s not mine, it’s mum’s from when she used to act at uni ( she did drama until she married dad - now she IS a drama). I must admit though I do borrow it now and again.
I walked over to the floor mirror sitting in the corner, (one I have spent many hours looking into) to make sure I got the brunette wig on straight — there’s nothing worse than a wig not on right. When it was set, I turned with a flourish.

The girls just stood there unable to make a sound.

“See the problem now?” They nodded in synch (I wish they wouldn’t do that.), still not making a sound. I removed the wig and put it back in the box and we went back out into the Gym. I showed them over the programmable exercise bike and demonstrated it — cover story.

Good job I did, I was just getting off it when mum wandered nonchalantly in as if it was nothing to creep up two flights of stairs to spy on your kids. “I was just going to make some sandwiches for supper — would you like some?” Excuses, excuses.
She pretended to be ‘just passing’ as she swept the room with her eyes for ‘evidence’ of our illicit goings on.

“I would like a sandwich actually,” I said, “do we have any turkey breast, it’s my favourite?”
The girls caught on really quickly and followed it with requests for a BLT (Bacon lettuce and tomato) and Sarah went all out and asked for a club sandwich.

“Right,” Mum glowered at us, spun on her heel and went back downstairs. I had to grin and shake my head. “Sorry girls, she’s like that sometimes, I’m sure she suspects something but has no idea what to look for for clues.”

“Our lips are sealed,” Ang used the zip gesture across her mouth. “Mmmm, BLT here I come.” We headed down.

Later when the oldies had gone back to their game, after the sandwich break, Angela reopened the conversation.

“I’ve got to say you looked smashing with the hairpiece on. It’s the wrong colour for you, but you looked stunning and with no makeup or anything.”

“Hey, if we could organize you to stay over with us for a weekend, I could borrow a decent hairpiece from the drama department and we could really see what you come out like.” Sarah started to get animated.

“Sorry girls, not going to happen until I get to my 16th birthday, I get more human rights then. Up to that point, I could end up with a testosterone booster shot and a padded cell til my balls dropped. I’m not going to take one more risk until then. There are some things I can get away with and some that are just asking for trouble.”

The girls looked disappointed and I could understand why, they’d just got themselves a project that they would love to work on for the next 6 months.
But I’d done all the working out and unless I was unlucky, the way things were going, I could come out in a month and be home free (and female) in a couple of years never having reached male puberty at all.

“Ok Rich, we’ll wait, but just wait til your birthday!” The look from both of them would have done the Wicked Witch of the West justice.

At that point it seemed the evening was over and everyone prepared to say goodnight and head home. I hugged Aunt Sandy goodnight as usual, shook Unc Brad’s hand and we all headed out to the cars to wave goodbye. Aunt Sandy gave me a funny look.
I hugged the girls as they prepared to get in the car. Ang suddenly said quietly in my ear. “I can feel your bandage” Bugger…….

“Our Turn next weekend,” Sandy reminded, turning the key and bringing the Rover to life — I love the sound of V8s.

Sandy glanced at me again with a slightly concerned look as she put the Rover in gear and circled the ornamental pond in the middle of the drive. We waved as the gate closed behind them and went inside.

“Night mum, night dad.” I headed straight for the stairs. The tension had worn me out.

“Night son,” dad gripped my shoulder as I passed, I almost lurched out of his reach. What’s with these people touching me tonight?

I locked my door and went to shower — reaching under my pillow for my PJs, and coming out with a handful of oyster satin…. Jeez. I came over all sweaty. I wonder how long ago the twins put that there.