Trick of the Mind - 31 & 32 by Maeryn Lamonte Melanie Ezell's big closet ultimate writer's challenge — Written From The Heart Thanks to Wren Eridnae Phoenix for editing/proofing. I slept well again that night and in the morning was pestering the nurses and doctors about when I might actually leave. They told me that whilst this was a sure sign I was recovering there were still quite a few tests and observations they wanted to do to ensure I was going to be OK before they let me loose on the world again.

-oOo-

Thursday came round soon enough. Mr T and Jen turned up early with real clothes. They offered me a choice between my chinos and white shirt or my coral dress. Jen thought I’d be more comfortable in the dress, but I figured if this court was asking for Richard Baxter to give evidence, it would be better if Richard turned up to give it and Rachael stayed in the background for the time being. Mr T smiled his approval.

It didn’t make a great deal of difference to me in any case. The moment I was dressed I felt the familiar blurring of reality and looked down to find myself wearing a dark floral print dress with high neckline and long sleeves. The collar and cuffs were trimmed with lace and the hem dropped to mid-calf. My shoes had transformed into knee high boots and I could feel cool nylon against my legs even if I couldn’t see it. The dress was close fitting and made of a stretchy fabric that clung to my frame like a whole body hug. It felt good, comforting, safe.

I sat in a wheelchair with a porter pushing me towards the front entrance and Jen chatting away at my side. It’s just as well that she can hold both sides of the conversation when needed because a tightening knot in my stomach had robbed me of the desire to speak.

Mr T was quiet as well, lost in his own thoughts as he walked along beside us. We reached the front entrance and Mr T thanked the porter as I climbed to my feet and walked the short distance to the waiting car.

“Hi Mrs T,” I said as Jen settled in beside me.

“Now Richard you remember what we agreed.”

“Alright, OK already. Hello Sharon. I’m sorry but it still feels a little odd addressing my girlfriend’s parents by their first names. My parents would never approve.”

“Does it matter to you that much, Richard? What your parents think I mean?” She asked.

“They are still my parents. For better or for worse they are the role models I have to work with. I am probably going to have to question a lot of what they taught me, but when it comes to basic courtesy, I think they had it right.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better to call me Mrs T, I think I should be able to live with that.”

We made our way from the hospital to the courthouse and the high courts. The sun was shining and I leaned against the window and soaked it up. When we arrived Mr T and I climbed out of the car and Jen gave me a wistful smile of encouragement before she drove off with her mother.

I gave Mr T a questioning look.

“We thought it best to keep today’s proceedings inside the courthouse as much as possible.”

“I don’t have anything to hide from Jen.”

“No, you’ve already shown laudable honesty with my daughter and with Sharon and myself. That’s one of the things I like and respect about you, but you will be cross examined today by both me and defence counsel, and you may well be surprised at the questions you’ll be called on to answer.

“Whilst I have no doubt that you and Jennifer share a great deal of honesty in your relationship, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if you are called upon to give testimony to some things today which you would far rather share with her in your own way and in your own time. Believe me when I say that it is better this way.”

I was disappointed not to have Jen’s supportive presence, but so far Mr T hadn’t steered me wrong, and I still felt a little guilty about the accusing him of betraying me.

“OK,” I said and we started up the steps to the courthouse together.

The high court was not much different from the county court except in size. Sunlight streamed in through large high windows only to be absorbed by dark wood panelled walls and desks, bringing a heavy solemnity to the room even on a bright and cheerful day such as this. The judge sat behind a high desk overlooking the dock, lawyers’ desks and witness box, with the jury box over to one side. The public gallery was separated from the rest of the courthouse by a low wooden barrier and held sufficient benches to seat a hundred people. Today only three of the places were filled.

Just inside the main entrance, sitting sullenly on the back row and glancing around for any pretext for escape, sat my Uncle Stan and Aunt Evie. By total contrast, Alice was sitting at the front, just behind the Mr Talbot's desk on the right. She gave me a weary smile when Mr Talbot and I made our entrance, and stood up to embrace me as we walked up to the business end of the courtroom.

The place seemed oddly deserted. Apart from the judge and the clerk, the only other people in the courtroom were my father and his two friends along with their respective council.

The judge looked at us over his glasses. “Ah, Mr Talbot and Mr Baxter. Good we can get started.”

“My apologies your honour,” said Mr T. “It took longer than expected to have Richard released from the hospital.”

“Not a problem.” He gave me an encouraging smile and a steady apprising look. “Now since we're all here, and since you seem to be up to it, I'd like to start with your testimony if you don't mind, Richard.”

“Yes your honour,” I allowed Mr T to lead me forward to the witness box.

I stepped into the box and turned toward the clerk as he approached with a New Testament in one hand and a card in the other.

“Do you wish to take the oath or affirm?”

I looked up at the judge, and my confusion must have been evident.

“In a modern court of law Mr Baxter, you may choose either to swear an oath on the holy book of your choice, or simply make an affirmation that you will tell the truth. Whatever you choose it will make no difference to the proceedings; you are still bound by the law to tell the truth”

I turned back to the clerk. “I’ll take the oath, thank you.”

“Can you please take the testament in your right hand and read the oath off the card?”

I did as requested. “I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

The judge looked down at me. “You may be seated Richard.”

I thanked him and lowered myself onto the seat. I managed to stop myself from sweeping the skirts of my dress underneath me, but still took a fistful of fabric in either hand and pulled it tight before I sat down.

The judge gave me an odd look, so I wiped my hands up and down my thighs as though nervous. He gave me an encouraging smile.

“Mr Baxter, you will notice that this is a little unusual in so far as court proceedings go. There is no jury and only the minimum number of court officials, the accused and the few people who will be asked to give evidence in this case are present. Because of the delicacy of some of the matters we are about to discuss, both court's counsel — that's Mr Talbot — and defence counsel have agreed to this being a closed session. Apart from the review of the court transcript by other high court judges, what is said within these walls will remain within these walls.

“I should make it clear that you are not on trial here. In matters relating to this case you have done nothing wrong under the law. Instead you are here as a witness to the events that took place in this courthouse approximately four weeks ago, and what occurred before and immediately after.

“I would urge you to speak freely and truthfully as I would like to understand the motivations as well as the actions of all involved before making my ruling.

“I do understand that you have recently gone through a traumatic experience and, on your doctor’s advice, I intend to make sure that this experience does not add unnecessarily to your distress. However I need to be fair to all parties here present,” he looked over to the defence table at this, “and as such I must warn you that some of the questions asked of you will not be easy for you to face.

“I won’t allow anyone in this room to bully you, and I will allow you as much time to collect yourself as I feel you need, however you will be required to answer all the questions put to you completely and truthfully. Can you do that?”

I gave the question a few second’s serious consideration. “Yes your honour.”

The judge nodded at Mr Talbot. “Please proceed.”

Mr T stood up from his desk and walked around it towards me. “Please state your name for the record.”

“Richard Ian Baxter.”

“And do you currently reside at…” He reached across the desk for a sheet of paper and readout my parent’s address.

“Erm, that is my registered address yes, but I live away from home at university for most of the year.”

Mr T gave me a look and I remembered one of our recent conversations where he had told me not to volunteer information.

“Well that neatly answers the next question I was going to ask you, but perhaps you could tell the court what it is you are studying at university.”

“Objection, relevance.” The words came from one of the suits on the other side of the courtroom.

“Goes to show character of the witness your honour, specifically his ability to think logically and objectively.”

“I’ll allow it this time.” The judge turned to the defence table. “Mr Simmons, I’d like to keep proceedings relatively informal today if you don’t mind. In my experience the truth of a matter is reached far more quickly and reliably if evidence is allowed to be given without constant interruptions. Please take a leaf out of your own book and check your own objections for relevance before making them.”

He turned to me. “Please answer the question Richard.”

“Yes your honour, I’m studying physics.”

“OK, slight change of tack here,” Mr T went on. “How would you describe your relationship with your parents?”

I looked over at my father who stared fixedly at the table in front of him. “Er, not brilliant at the moment sir.”

“Can you be a little more specific Richard?”

I took a breath. “Things have been difficult for the past four years. Something happened back then which changed the way my mother in particular behaved towards me, and since then she has been consistently disapproving and critical of me.

“My father has tried to act as mediator through most of that time, but that changed about seven weeks ago. He came to pick me up from university and one of the things we talked about on the way home upset him.”

“Do you know what it was that caused this change?”

“Objection, hearsay. How can the witness know what my client was thinking?” Mr Simmons again. At least I knew he was the one defending my dad.

“Actually your honour both my parents have been quite explicit in the reason for their change of attitude towards me.”

“Then by all means tell the court,” the judge said, “but limit yourself to facts rather than your opinions.”

“Yes sir.” I gave out another long sigh and collected my thoughts. This wasn't going to be easy.

-oOo-

“Four years ago on August the third, I went with my parents and my sister to my cousin Susan’s wedding. After the ceremony and the reception we all went back to my uncle’s house to change and rest before heading home.

“We all took it in turns to change and I went last. When I was upstairs I saw my younger cousin Emily’s bridesmaid’s dress lying on her bed with all the other things she had been wearing with it. I thought the dress was exquisitely beautiful and couldn’t help myself. Before I knew what I was doing, I had stepped into my cousin’s room and started to change out of my things and into hers.”

“Pervert!”

My uncle had spoken under his breath, but the acoustics in large room carried his voice clearly across to the rest of us.

“Mr Hanson, your presence in this court is subject to my rulings and I will not have comments like that bandied about. If you speak out in a similar manner again I will have you held in contempt and you will sit in a prison cell until you are called to give testimony. Am I clear?”

My uncle looked as though he was about to explode, but my aunt’s hand on his knee calmed him and he subsided into sullen brooding. He gave the judge a nod.

The judge turned to me. “Let me get this straight Richard. You put your cousin’s dress on?”

Another deep sigh, I was beginning to see what Mr T meant about things coming out in a way you would rather avoid. “Yes sir. Not just the dress either, all the underwear that went with it, the stockings, the shoes everything.”

“May I ask why?”

“It’s hard to explain your honour. I’d spent most of the day admiring the dress, and I had an urge to know what it felt like to wear it, to see how I would look in it. It wasn't the first time I've felt the desire to dress as a girl, nor was it the first time I gave in to my feelings.

“Anyway I took too long. My uncle came up the stairs wondering where I was and came into Emily’s room to find me admiring myself in the mirror.

“He didn’t say anything, just grabbed me by the arm and dragged me downstairs. Pulled me into the middle of everyone and asked my parents to explain.

“Everything went mad. My cousin screamed and ran out the room, my parents and my uncle and aunt were shouting and I was in the middle of it. In the end my dad dragged me upstairs and told me to change back into my clothes.

“As soon as I had done so, I was marched back downstairs where my father emptied his wallet onto the table, telling my uncle that it was to pay for dry cleaning the dress and replacement of anything they felt they had to throw away. He then faced me and announced to everyone there that I would pay him back out of my pocket money and I was grounded until I had done so. He then hauled me out to the car and drove us home.

“Both my Mum and my Dad continued haranguing me for most of the way home, yelling over the back seat, asking me why I would do such a thing to them, then carrying on with the brow-beating without waiting for an answer. I just sat in the back and cried.

“I remember my sister Alice gave my hand a squeeze when neither of my parents were looking. Apart from that there was no comfort, no forgiveness. I was sent to bed as soon as we got home and pretty much told to stay there any time I wasn’t at school for the next month.

“Every time my mother came up into my room over those days she would start lecturing me about how much I had shamed and disgusted both her and my dad. My dad mellowed sooner, but the punishment stood, and by the time I had paid off my debt to him and was allowed to leave my room, my mother’s tirades had subsided into constant sniping and criticism whenever we were in the same room, and nothing has changed since.”

“So that was your mother,” Mr T prompted me gently. “How did things change with your father more recently?”

I described the conversation we had shared in the car on the way back from university, and how it had swiftly degenerated from my wanting to put things right with my mum down to my admittance of cross dressing at university and my dad’s ultimatum. I went on to detail what he had done over the following week from throwing away the girl clothes he found in my possession, to waking me early every morning to go for a run, to giving me an unending list of tedious and dirty jobs to do around the house.

“What do you think caused his change of attitude?” Mr T asked.

“Objection, speculative.” Mr Simmons again.

“That one I will sustain,” the judge said, “although from your testimony Richard, I think I can guess what you would infer from it all.”

Mr T glanced at his notes; more a pause for effect than a need to decide what was coming next. “Richard, would you please tell us what happened on the second Tuesday after you returned home?”

“My dad had arranged for me to see a psychiatrist friend of his, a Dr Finster.”

“Is he in the room today?”

“Yes,” I pointed at the defence table, “he’s sitting on my father’s left over there.”

“What happened in this meeting?”

“Well from the outset it felt like a setup.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Dr Finster had this sort of knowing grin on his face and there were a lot of exchanged glances between him and my dad. I asked the doctor if my father had to be present, and he did his best to persuade me it was in my best interests. In the end my dad left, but I had a sneaky feeling that anything I discussed with the doctor would get back to my dad anyway.”

“Your honour,” Mr Simmons had found his voice again. “The witness is speculating, he cannot know what was going on the doctor’s or my client’s minds.”

“I agree Mr Simmons. Please restrict yourself to the facts Richard.”

“Sorry sir, I was just trying to convey my impressions. Anyway, after Dad left, I confronted the doctor about confidentiality and my ability to trust him given the impression he had just made. He didn’t answer me so I went on to ask him how long he had been practising, what his views on gender dysphoria were and whether they matched the current thinking in his profession. Again he didn’t have a satisfactory answer so I told him what I thought of him and my dad, and stormed out of his office.

“Later that day when I had made my own way home on the bus, Dad and I had a massive row in which he accused me of insulting one of his friends and I accused him of trying to set me up. It ended up with me walking out of the house and him telling me that I was no longer welcome.”

“So what did you do?”

“My girlfriend’s parents had offered me an opportunity to visit at some point in the holidays, so I called her to explain what had just happened and ask if I could spring a surprise visit on her. She checked with her folks and they were very accommodating.

“I stayed with them for a couple of weeks, even took a short holiday with them on a canal boat. I would have been happy to stay longer, and I think they would have let me, but Mr Talbot received an injunction requiring him to bring me to attend a county court hearing back here.”

“Your honour,” Mr T turned to the judge, “I should clarify for the record that Richard's girlfriend is my daughter Jennifer. Richard stayed with us for the two weeks in question, and as such it was me that received the injunction.”

The judge nodded and was about to wave for him to proceed when Mr Simmons started to raise his hand.

“Mr Simmons, I was aware of Mr Talbot's involvement in this case before he brought it to the court's attention just now. It was his close association with Richard that brought the initial evidence of possible misconduct to light, and after due consideration, I have deemed that there is no conflict of interest here, rather it is something of a fortunate happenstance. Mr Talbot has in the past investigated similar cases to this one and, because of both his past experience and his unique position as witness in this case, he is my first choice for court's council.”

He looked at Mr T who turned to face me.

“Tell us about the court appearance please Richard.”

“It was in a smaller courtroom than this. The only people present were my father, Dr Finster, and Judge Priestly, sitting over there on my dad’s right, a clerk who’s not present today, Mr Talbot and myself.

“I seem to remember the judge opened by declaring it a closed hearing.”

I looked at today's presiding judge uncertainly, and he was bright enough to pick up on my concerns.

“Richard, this is a closed high court investigation into those exact proceedings, and as such relieves you of any obligation under the law to remain silent.”

I nodded then tried to focus my brittle mind on the task in hand. Four very strange weeks separated me from those events, and I wasn’t sure how clear my recollection would be.

“He said it was to determine whether an investigation into the state of my mental health and my fitness to make competent decisions for myself were necessary. He spoke to Dr Finster who gave my cross dressing as an example of this incompetence. My father was then called on to describe the events that happened following my cousin’s wedding showing that I was still a minor when my condition had first manifested itself, and so allowing my father uncontested right as legal guardian.

“I wanted to speak out for myself, but Mr Talbot advised me not to. The judge decided that a further hearing was necessary, and that I should be held at a private health institute recommended by Dr Finster to await the full hearing which would take place in two weeks.”

“What happened then?”

I was becoming edgy; the nightmarish memories of my two weeks as a mental patient still a little too raw to recall easily. I did my best to describe what I had experienced, and became so caught up in reliving those events, that I missed the reactions around me. Mr T and the judge already had access to the blood panels that had been done on me after my rescue, so they already had some indication that I had been given psychotropic drugs. My evidence supported this and turned their faces grim. The defence barristers, especially the one representing Dr Finster, looked shocked to the point of horror. Even my dad looked across at the doctor with disbelief, giving some support to Mr T's theory that he was relying on ignorance to sooth his conscience.

The judge noticed my distress and told me I could stop. He looked around for a moment, taking in the varied reactions around the courtroom.

“Mr Talbot, how much longer will you need with this witness?”

“I think I have covered as much as I need for now your honour.”

“Then I think we all need a recess. May I remind everyone here that you are not to talk about these proceedings with anyone or in the hearing of anyone who is not currently present? Mr Baxter you may step down from the witness stand for now, but when we reconvene you will once more be under oath.”

I nodded my understanding.

“Your honour?” It was the defence barrister representing the doctor. He was invited to approach the bench and a murmured discussion took place between the two men, ending with the judge sitting back with a look of profound displeasure.

“It seems we may need a longer recess. Dr Finster I will see you and your council in my chambers immediately. The rest of you, we will reconvene in two hours, at which time I will know whether or not this latest development is going to delay matters further.

The judge banged his gavel and left, followed by Dr Finster and his attorney.

-oOo-