I hadn’t realized how sleepy I was until I undressed, got my nightgown on, and remembered I had to wash. So I trudged downstairs to wash my face. I pulled my hair back and studied my face. Now, for the first time, I thought I was beginning to see a girl looking back at me, and not a boy pretending to be a girl. I loved it.

The Cabin - Part 5

Chapter 14: On The Net

The next morning I woke up early, got out of bed and had taken a few steps before I realized that I was wearing a nightgown. That was interesting; the other times it had felt strange immediately, so maybe I was getting used to it at last. It was definitely a comfortable feeling, although I knew in really hot weather I’d miss just wearing light boxers. Hmm; maybe I could still wear the boxers and a little something up top. I found it interesting that already I was thinking of keeping my top covered. Feminine modesty already?

I padded downstairs to pee and wash up. I also sat down to pee without thinking. Or maybe my mind was working quietly in the background and priming me to think like a girl. Sitting there, I realized how much it made sense to pee sitting down, anyway. No missing the toilet, no loud sounds …and, I realized, I could read! So that was an easy decision–unless stuck without a toilet somewhere, I’d always sit to pee.

After a quick wash and brush of my hair, I entered the kitchen. My aunt was having a melon, smiled at me with a mouthful, and pointed the spoon at the fridge. I got a yogurt and a smaller piece of melon, grabbed another spoon, and started to eat. If nothing else, I thought, this girl thing was making me eat healthy!

“Cindy’s not feeling too good, so she’s still in bed. Too much sun, maybe,” Aunt Margaret told me.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. My fault. Whatever I had, I must have passed on. Is she awake now?”

“I think so, if you want to look in. And don’t feel guilty; you both probably got the same thing at the same time but yours hit first. And if it’s the same thing, she should be okay in a day like you were. What are you up to, if you’re flying solo?”

“Last night, Bonnie invited me over to use her computer, remember? They have internet access, and she’ll let me get on so I can email my folks.”

“You’re right; I’d forgotten. We’re supposed to get it here but he never got around …Well, the timing couldn’t be more right, with Cindy laid low. I’ll see you for lunch?”

I told her yes, got up and cleaned my place. On the way upstairs I stopped in at Cindy’s bedroom. I couldn’t tell at first if she was awake or not, and turned to go, but she called out to me so I went in and sat on the bed.

She smiled weakly and groaned. “Can you believe this? Summer vacation and I feel like shit.”

I grinned. “Bet you didn’t say that to your mom!”

“No, of course not. I’m gonna take it easy; I don’t know if I’m just tired or got the flu or whatever. If it’s your flu I’m gonna knock your block off …as soon as I’m strong enough! What’re you gonna do?”

“I’m going next door–”

“Oh, got a new girlfriend?” she said playfully but weakly. “You girls are so fickle!”

I could see how sick she was. I didn’t want to tell her all the details of my deal with Bonnie, but enough to explain.

“Yeah, right. Like she’s gonna hang with a kid? No, believe it or not, she wants to ask me some questions for a thing she was studying in college. You know, about the difference between boys and girls. She said I have the unique perspective from both sides. Although I really don’t know that much about being a girl, yet.”

“She wants to use you for a guinea pig? Yuck! So what do you get out of it?”

I brightened. “Ah, that’s the really cool part! They’ve got a computer with internet access, and she’s promised to let me come over and email my folks!”

Cindy laughed weakly. “Now that makes sense!”

“Do you want to come?” I asked, figuring the answer would be negative.

“No, you go be cyber chicks. I’m going to hang here. Dying …” She flopped back dramatically.

“I’ll probably be back before lunch. Hope you feel better. Love ya, Cin!”

I went up to my attic room, rooted around in the drawers and found a pair of jean cutoffs and a blue and gray striped sleeveless top. My aunt had stuck some panties and things in a corner of one of the drawers, and so I dressed myself in my own room just like any other girl, although I was still aware that I was wearing Cindy’s clothes. I did take the time to reapply the pearly nail polish that I liked so much, and spritzed on some cologne.

I said ‘bye’ to my aunt and headed next door, knocked, and Mrs. Doyle opened it, holding Hannah’s hand, and called for Bonnie. Bonnie came out and looked great. She was wearing yellow shorts and a green and yellow string bikini top. There was a lot of her breasts exposed, and I was struck with a hot stab of envy. Not lust, I realized, but envy! I wanted a body like hers. I was in momentary turmoil with these thoughts when she came up.

“Ready to hit the Net?” she said with a big grin.

“Sure. Cindy’s not feeling well and is taking it easy, so my time is your time.”

Bonnie understood what I meant and gave me a secret wink. I followed her into the back of their cabin, where a small room had been set up as a study or business office. I don’t know what kind of work Mrs. Doyle did, but apparently she could do it online and at the lake. Not bad!

Bonnie asked me if I wanted to go online and email immediately, or talk a bit about what we’d discussed the night before. I said we could do both. She started the logon procedure and turned to me.

“You’re lucky this isn’t last year, when I still had to use a modem; it was slower than molasses. Mom put in a dish as soon as possible and we just got a high speed connection. Still a little kludgy, though.”

She typed a group of commands at prompts, got on and arrived at the page she wanted. Hands on the keyboard, she looked at me and said, “Remember, we said total honesty? Okay, I won’t beat around the bush. I’ll start with a ‘brute force’ question. Are you a boy or a girl?”

“Well, ma’am, to answer scientifically,” I said with a professorial air, and she laughed. I went back to my normal voice, but noticed how much I sounded like a girl. “Genetically, I’m male. XY, I mean. I haven’t had a test or anything but I’m pretty sure that’s what it’ll say. But my mind seems to be in XX mode.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re, what–thirteen? And you know something about genetics?”

I nodded. “I read a lot. The truth is I’ve had a very lonely life. I mean, I’m not bummed out about it, but …I spend a lot of time by myself. Both my parents work or are away on business like now. I’m an only child and I can’t seem to make any real friends. So I read a lot. By the way, I’m almost thirteen.”

“I can’t believe you can’t make friends. I mean, we’re friends–or getting to be–right?”

“That’s part of the answer to your first question. Actually, to back up, I read everything I can get my hands on. Between a novel and a non-fiction book, like science or biography, I read the non-fiction. Anyway, I never felt male or female. Just …neuter, I guess, or neutral, maybe. I never thought about my gender or other kids’ genders; all my classmates were just other bodies in the room.”

“Did you identify with one or the other?”

“That’s just it–no. I didn’t identify with boys, or even as a boy. Or with girls, either. I’ve read some things about transsexuals, and I didn’t have that feeling that I should have been born a girl, or was ‘trapped in the wrong body’. That’s the way I feel now, but back then, growing up …At that point, I just wished I’d been born …more human, I guess.”

“That sounds ...so lonely.” She did an involuntary shiver.

“It was. Anyway, I was dreading this summer with my macho Neanderthal cousins. I’d never really known my aunt or Cindy, because I was always lumped in with the guys, you know? But on the way up here, there was an argument and I found myself suddenly siding with the females, and against the males. And I realized I was siding against their whole concept of maleness. It was like I was rebelling against who they said I was supposed to be, because I just didn’t feel like one of them! And I don’t think I’m just rebelling temporarily. I think for the first time I’m getting to know who I am. And I am female, despite what’s between my legs.”

Bonnie blinked at that, then blushed slightly. “Wow! You really took my rules about honesty to heart! Great. Okay, how do you think or know you’re female?”

“I’ve discovered that it’s a lot more than just what clothes you’re wearing. That was easy. You know about Einstein and ‘thought experiments’?”

She startled for a moment. “Yeah. I didn’t think a thir–twelve-year-old would, though.”

I shrugged. “So the thing about clothes; it’s an easy thought experiment. Put my Uncle Jack in a dress, or Chuck or Larry. Would they be female? Would they feel the least bit feminine? No and no.”

She shuddered theatrically. “Thanks, Susan! Now I’ve got that image in my brain!”

I laughed with her. “So it’s not clothes. Clothes do not make the woman. But they do signal to the world how to treat you. But internally? It’s not the clothes. It’s a whole mind set thing. I’ve been watching the relationship between Cindy and her mom and then with your family and it just feels comfortable–no, that’s not quite right. Yeah, it’s comfortable, but in the sense that it makes sense; it’s a feeling of relating, a familiar feeling, like I belong ...I mean, I haven’t had much exposure to males the last few days, but maybe that’s what it took.”

“You mean you’re just going with whatever’s around you, sort of like a chameleon?”

I chuckled at the image. “No, I mean that without having to uphold the male image to other males, I could relax and find out who I was, what kind of image came from inside of me–not a reflection of what’s around me. Chameleon in reverse, maybe? Without having to do the protective coloration thing–reflecting the boy that the males expect to see–I could be myself. And myself is not the boy reflection. Does that make sense?”

She nodded and began to say something but I interrupted her and held up a hand. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“I just thought of something,” I said. “I was reading something recently about communication theory, and the signal getting distorted by noise. If the signal is the real me, and the noise is having males around and having to maintain the …the mask that I’m a boy, too …” I nodded, sure of my idea. “Then when the noise was removed–when my uncle and cousins took off–then maybe for the first time I could hear the original signal, strong and clear. And it’s female. Does that explain it better?”

“Actually, it does. And I think you’re really twenty-two!” she chuckled. “But now, the clothes help, right?”

“Yes, to focus my thoughts, perhaps. And to signal to others how to treat me, to treat me as a girl, and that just focuses my thoughts even more. There’s no secret thrill wearing them, for instance; nothing sexual. It just feels right. It’s funny–you can ask Cindy–the first time I tried on a skirt, I was most concerned about how nice my legs looked. I don’t think that’s a male response.”

Bonnie chuckled.

I smiled back. “That’s about the best way to put it. It feels perfectly normal and natural to do these things that are associated with female–the clothes, hair, makeup, whatever. Just the way I move, the way I talk now, I guess …it’s all because I relaxed. Not forced or some kind of acting or anything; it just feels natural. It doesn’t feel natural to be hunting with the guys. That’s forced and completely unnatural. And repulsive.”

“And smelly, after a few days!”

We both laughed at that; then I got serious again while Bonnie punched some keys on the computer. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I really believe that if you put me in total boy’s clothes right now–jockey shorts, jeans, t-shirt, jacket, boots–I would still feel female. But that’s a vast improvement over not feeling anything at all.”

“My God what you’ve been going through,” she said with some wonder. “This …non-feeling you’ve had …is like the flip side of the agony that some transsexuals report. But I’m sure it’s equally valid. Wow.” She studied the screen for a moment and turned to me. “Okay. Pick your screen name. Don’t pick ‘Susan’ because they’ve got a lot of them.”

I told her I knew that; I had a Gmail account already and entered my screen name and password. I quickly typed a message to my dad telling him the situation with emailing from Bonnie’s cabin, and that I was available if they wanted to talk, on- or off-line. Bonnie checked something in a book while I typed. I sent the message and thanked Bonnie.

“You know, Susie–” she looked startled. “Ooo–is it okay if I call you that?”

I nodded. “Or Sue or Susan. I don’t really know which one I am, yet. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sure. I’ve got a friend that’s bouncing from Michelle to Shelly to Mickie and back again. Anyway, do you want to surf some TG websites? I’ve got some addresses here.”

“Sounds great! Some of my questions might be–”

We were interrupted by Mrs. Doyle calling me. Apparently my aunt was calling for me across the lot; she wanted to show me something. Bonnie and I agreed to meet again when we could; in the meantime she’d start exploring the Net.

Chapter 15: The Letters

I had no idea what my aunt had that was so urgent. I said my goodbyes and headed back home. When I entered the kitchen, I saw that Federal Express had made a delivery while I was next door. My aunt had the large envelope open and its contents stacked on the table and was reading a letter. There were several regular-size envelopes. I got a glass of cold juice and sat down. I sipped and kept quiet until she finished reading.

“Your father must have been burning up the Net something fierce after we talked,” my aunt said. “He’s been a very busy guy. Okay, he’s got letters for you, for me, for Jack, and some other documents.” She picked through the stack of envelopes and handed me one. “Here’s yours; from what he says in his letter to me, you should read yours before we go on.”

I opened the letter; it had my name written on it in my father’s writing, although the very long letter had been laser printed. Good old Dad! It didn’t matter where he was in the world; he was a combination website and traveling Kinko’s! I decided to read the letter aloud to my aunt; I felt that nothing should be kept from her.

The letter told me how moved my dad and mom were by our talk the other night. They talked a very long time after we’d hung up, and did some netsurfing on related topics, and discussed everything for hours and hours. Finally, they had come to a decision. It was based partly on our talk, as well as what my aunt had told them before she woke me to take the call.

In a nutshell, they loved me, and they apologized for being so out of touch. They blamed themselves in part for my development, but stressed that they loved me no matter what. After talking with us, they felt that my decision was not a lark, and not to be casually dismissed. They really felt I should explore it fully; only then could I discover whether it was a passing fancy or something deeply rooted. I felt sure it was deeply rooted, but I could understand their concern. Anyway, it all meant that they supported my decision to try living as a girl. Whether a boy or girl, straight or gay, it was not a big concern to them–what really mattered was what kind of person I grew up to be, and that I would be happy.

I felt a tremendous burden lifting. It was like letting out my breath without realizing that I’d been holding it in. I could be a girl, and it was okay with my parents! I read on, excitedly. They had written a letter to my Uncle Jack that my Dad felt would keep him from bothering me. My aunt raised an eyebrow at that line, but shrugged; it meant ‘well, we’ll see …’ They did caution me that there was no guarantee I wouldn’t have problems with Chuck and Larry, though.

My aunt had received her letter giving her further instructions, as well as a document giving her temporary legal guardianship, with the ability to make medical decisions for me should the need arise. If there was a pressing need or emergency, one or the other of my parents would be here within 24 hours. Otherwise, I was to entrust myself to my aunt and get to know myself. They were looking forward to meeting the new me after Labor Day, whatever my choice would be. We’d see how things were then before we talked about the fall.

I couldn’t believe it! It was okay with them! My dad’s letter ended with some uncharacteristic mushy stuff; he’d never been a close parent and this kind of personal discussion made him uncomfortable. I could easily forgive him, because he was trying so hard. At the end of his letter, my mom handwrote a paragraph telling me that she loved me, and looked forward to shopping for my fall wardrobe together. It was a pretty safe guess that she already knew–or hoped–that I would choose to live as a girl, and I didn’t intend to disappoint her! I looked at my aunt, and she beamed back at me.

“I know, honey, I’m so happy for you! I thought this might be what they’d decide, but I never thought they’d act so quickly and fully.”

“Fully?”

“You know; letters for you, me, Jack, and other stuff. He included a letter for a doctor, if you want somebody professional to talk with–and you should talk to a professional. By the way, I’m still holding you to your promise to dress and try to act like a boy when the guys get back. Remember? It’s very important if this is to work right. I figured it might be pretty tough to convince Jack, but your dad’s thought of that with his letter to Jack. But you remember your promise?”

I frowned. “Yes, I remember. And I’ll honor it. But does it matter now? I mean, my folks said it’s okay for me to be a girl, so you really think I still have to dress like a boy?”

“Yes, more than ever if we’re to make the rest of the summer together peaceful. This macho thing is fairly recent with Jack, and he’s actually not very good at it. He tries too hard to be something that was never him, deep down. Let’s face it; if he was that kind of a macho jerk, deep down, I’d never have married him! I don’t think he’ll be a problem coming around. But Chuck ...it’s a terrible thing for a mother to say, but Chuck scares me sometimes. Chuck ...could hurt you real bad. And Larry would probably help because he doesn’t know any better. He really idolizes Chuck and would follow his lead. No, let’s stick to the plan, but now with the letters, we’ve got extra ammunition. Heavy ammunition! Okay?”

“Okay. I understand. But it’s going to be hard!”

“I know that, honey, so I’ve got a great carrot for you. First, a time limit: it should take no more than a few days after they return for this to get sorted out. So let’s say no more than a week in boy clothes, okay? If it takes longer than that, then something’s gone very wrong. But that will also give you a chance to go back to being a boy to see if you can learn to like it again.”

“But that’s the point! I never really did like it!”

“I understand. But you do need to test that, and if and when you’re meeting with doctors, they’re going to want that kind of a test done, anyway. This way, you won’t waste any time because you’ll have already done your ‘gone-back-to Boy’ test, and I’ll tell ‘em all about it. Anyway, at the end of the few days or week, if you decide to be a girl, I’ll take you shopping for your own clothes so you won’t have to borrow Cindy’s.”

“Oh, Aunt Margaret! Thank you! I can tell you right now there’s no way I’ll ever go back to being a boy. But I understand the reasons why, and I’ll do my best not to be whiny about it. It’ll be a week of hell, but it’ll be worth it for my own clothes! But you shouldn’t spend your money on me ...”

She grinned broadly. “Your dad’s already thought of that. I’ve got a clothing allowance for you, so now you have something to look forward to.”

I got up and hugged her. Holding my letter, I went upstairs, checking on Cindy on the way up. She was still asleep, so I went up and sat on my bed, rereading my father’s letter. I felt humbled by how much they loved me and was blinking back tears. Downstairs I heard the phone ring, and strange noises from my aunt–at first shocked, then angry. I went back down to the kitchen in a hurry to see her standing bent over the table, writing furiously on a notepad.

“What is it, Aunt Margaret?”

“Stupid, stupid, stupid sons-of–” she slammed the pen down and flopped into a chair and put her face in her hands. I was really worried now. What had happened?

“That was Jack. Calling from the Pine Ridge Hospital. Larry’s been shot–”

“Oh my God!” My hand flew to my mouth.

She paused for strength. “They were hiking along single file and Chuck was bringing up the rear. Somehow or other his shotgun went off and he shot Larry! Oh, God!” Her lips trembled and she pulled herself together. “Jack says it’s not life-threatening; they got him to the hospital in time. They’re in Pine Ridge Hospital–oh, I said that already.”

I could see she was trying her best to keep together. “What can I do for you, Aunt Margaret?”

She turned and looked at me, smiled sadly and said, “Thank you, Susie. But you’ll have to stop being Susie sooner than we planned. Okay, here’s what we do. I’ve got to borrow Monica’s car to go to Pine Ridge–"

“You shouldn’t be driving,” I warned her.

“You’re right. I’ll see if she or Bonnie ...anyway, with Cindy sick, you’ll have to hold the fort. Stay with Cindy, okay? Her temperature’s up and she’s really foggy.”

“I will, just like she’s my own sister.”

She smiled sadly again. “That would have been so lovely ...” She shook herself. “Okay, I’m going to see Monica. In the meantime, you’ll have to get ready to be a boy again, I’m afraid. I’ll call you from the hospital as soon as I know something. There’s plenty to eat here, although I don’t think Cindy’s going to be hungry. Oh, thank you, Susie, for being here!” She got up quickly, gave me a tight hug and a kiss on the top of my head, and dashed next door.

Chapter 16: News From The Hospital

Needless to say, I was not looking forward to dressing like a boy again. I fixed myself something to eat and heard the roar of the Doyles’ car as Aunt Margaret sped off to the hospital. After cleaning up, I went upstairs and checked on Cindy. She was still asleep but seemed cooler; maybe the fever had broken. I went all the way up to my room and began checking the drawers and small closet for girl’s clothes. There wasn’t too much, because I’d mostly been using clothes from Cindy’s room. I was able to consolidate them all in one drawer, which I put at the bottom of the dresser. If the boys discovered it, it would be easy to pass off as Cindy’s since she’d had the room last summer.

I unhappily grabbed a plaid shirt and jeans, jockey shorts and socks, and headed down for a shower. I made sure I washed any feminine traces away, and left my hair to air dry after I’d brushed it once. That was the way I’d done it before, and though it was a familiar routine, my new-found sense of feminine grooming screamed out against being so lazy. Once I was dry, I dressed and looked at myself in the mirror, with a sinking feeling. I had just started looking like a normal girl in the mirror, and to me, I still looked that way–would the guys be able to tell what had happened just by looking at me?

I heard Cindy calling from the kitchen and went in to find her sitting at the table, arms wrapped around her, staring at a glass of juice.

“Cindy, hi! How’re ya feeling?”

“Like death. Or maybe just this side of death. Where’s Mom?” She hadn’t moved much.

I got a glass and poured myself some juice. “She’s ...out. Um, Cindy, I’ve got some news for you–”

She had looked up. “I’ll say! What happened to you?” She had noticed my clothes.

I was embarrassed for some reason. “Oh, uh ...this. Well, that’s part of the news ...”

“Was this a game for you, Susie? Or shouldn’t I call you that anymore?” She seemed cross.

“Why are you upset, Cin? What did I do?”

She looked back at the juice. “I’m sorry. I just feel like shit. And now I find you don’t want to be a girl anymore, not my girlfriend anymore–”

“But I do, Cindy! Wait, wait–let me tell you what happened.”

First, I told her about my aunt’s request that I revert to boyhood when the guys came home. I told Cindy how upset I was, and how just ten minutes of thinking of myself as a boy was enough to convince me ‘never again’. I was firm in my mind that I wanted to go on living as a girl as soon as possible. I told her about my FedEx package, and begged her to go along with the boy thing when the guys had returned. She promised and actually smiled; I think she felt a lot better knowing that–hopefully–I’d be her girlfriend again soon.

And of course she saw the omission. “But they’re not coming back for another week. Are you just …I don’t know …road-testing the boy thing?”

Sadly, I shook my head.”No, Cindy. This is the other thing I’ve got to tell you with, and it’s really way more important than me or what I wear but you had a valid question and there were two answers and …” I ran my hand through my hair with frustration. “Cindy, I told you why I’ve agreed to dress as a boy to answer you because I know that everything changes with the other information.”

I sat, heavily, and told her what little we knew about the gunshot accident, and then rushed to hug her as she burst into tears. She said things in the depths of her misery that, well, I knew she wouldn’t want me to hear but she needed my comfort so I had to hear. She loved Larry, as a little sister does, but she was also disgusted by Larry–and much more disgusted of Chuck–and the macho posturing. She echoed her mother that she was a little afraid of Chuck, too, and she even started to voice something that had already formed in my mind–if I had gone on the trip, it might have been me that was shot …was that Chuck’s intention, gone horribly wrong? It was too chilling to contemplate, and I concerned myself with comforting her.

Finally she calmed somewhat–being powerless to help in any way will do that, on top of being sick–so I fixed her a sandwich while we talked; she nibbled a bit, said she felt shaky and I helped her return to bed.

I grabbed a book to read and went on the porch to read, but didn’t even notice what the book was; I just stared at the lake and thought about things. There were a lot of ‘what ifs’. I don’t know how long I was out there, but when the phone rang and I looked at the lake again, several hours had passed. I ran into the cabin to answer. It was my aunt calling from the hospital with an update. Larry had been shot in the right side and was in very serious condition but would live, although his recovery would take awhile. The police were involved; apparently everyone in the hunting party had been drinking, including Chuck and Larry, who were minors. Chuck had been following Larry along a trail; apparently he’d drunkenly tripped and his gun discharged into Larry. Uncle Jack had been arrested for contributing to the delinquency of minors, and Chuck was being held in detention. After checking on Larry, who was still unconscious and between surgeries, Aunt Margaret had bailed out Uncle Jack and was coming home with him. Chuck would have to remain a bit longer in detention; she didn’t say why. They would be home in about an hour.

After I hung up I shivered, and the vague idea that I’d suppressed when I was with Cindy rose to the front of my thinking. What would have happened if I’d gone along on the trip? Would it be me in the hospital right now? Or the morgue? Would Chuck have shot me on purpose–omigod, did Chuck shoot Larry on purpose, thinking it was me? No, that was too paranoid and weird. But even Chuck’s own sister thought of it …

Well, nothing to do but see what the future brought. I went from room to room neatening things up, ran the dishwasher, and generally made things as clean as possible for my aunt when she got back. I poured another glass of juice and sat down to wait.

The cars pulled up in the drive, and two doors slammed. My uncle walked in the door and looked at me with the strangest expression. He looked like a puppy that had pooped on the rug and knew he was in trouble. My aunt had run back from next door after returning the Doyles’ car.

My uncle quietly said, “Hello. Guess you heard what happened.”

“Something about it.” I didn’t feel sorry for him, and wasn’t going to give him an inch.

“You’re lucky you didn’t come along. Things just ...got out of hand.”

“Yeah. Aunt Margaret said Larry’s going to be okay, right?”

“Well, he’s not going to die, but it’ll be awhile before the doctors will know if he’ll …be okay. There was some damage ...” He trailed off and walked past me and into the living room, as in a trance, sat down and stared at the carpet. My aunt came in from the Doyles right after that.

“Aunt Margaret? Uncle Jack said there might be some problem with Larry ...?”

She nodded sadly and looked into the living room at her husband, then sat at the kitchen table. She told me that there were extensive internal injuries from all the buckshot, and the doctors didn’t know yet if his liver or kidneys would be affected, because they’d been severely damaged. Chuck was being held because he’d made some comments to the police that made them suspicious. She’d seen Chuck at the police station; he’d told her he was sorry and it was just macho bragging trying to cover up for the terrible thing he’d accidentally done, but her own feeling was that he needed to be taught a lesson. Unfortunately it was at Larry’s expense.

I didn’t know what to say. The summer that had started out so beautifully looked to be going down in flames. I sat with my fingers curled around the juice and watched her face. She reached out and grabbed my shoulder.

“Hey, don’t look so glum. Just be glad that you weren’t on that trip.”

“I am, believe me. Even if nothing had happened–which I wish–but I’d rather have been here with you. It’s just ...it feels like the family got fragmented so quickly. I hope you can all pull back together again. I mean, we talked about Chuck already. But I feel really bad about Larry. And about Uncle Jack; I can really see he’s hurting.”

She looked into the living room. “And well he should be. But you’re right; it feels like we’ve been suddenly shot into the air and don’t know how long we’re going to be falling, or where we’re going to fall ...or if we’re going to be together when we land. But I just realized that affects you, too,” and she quietly said, “Susan.”

I smiled weakly at her. “That’s the least of your worries right now. The main thing is to get the family sorted out. Please, Aunt Margaret; they need you.”

She gave my shoulder a shake and let go, leaning back. “That’s what’s wonderful about you, honey. You care about the family, and it isn’t really yours. Well, it is and it isn’t; you know what I mean. But I promise you, we’ll move forward on this–”

She was interrupted by Jack entering the kitchen. “What the hell is that?”

We both looked at him, mystified. He was looking at the middle of the kitchen table. We looked at the table and couldn’t see anything. Just my aunt’s hands folded, and my glass of juice with my hands around it–omigod! I’d forgotten to remove the nail polish!

“What the hell do you have on your fingers?”

My aunt and I shared a quick guilty look. I tried to make light of it. “Just ...just tried something to keep from biting my nails ...”

My aunt looked at me with a mix of gratitude and exasperation. “Jack–”

“You some kind of fruit?” He asked me directly. My aunt darn near exploded.

“That is it! You will not come in here and try to get around your own guilt for your asinine behavior this week. We have one son in the hospital and one in jail, thanks to your ‘manly’ parenting skills. No more! And now you’re just trying to ease your own pain by bellowing at somebody else. Well, pick on somebody your own size. Pick on me–if you dare!”

I was amazed at her strength; she wasn’t out of control. She was strong and decisive. She was beautiful.

My uncle just stared. “Margaret ...”

She stood up and pointed to the living room. “In there. We need to talk.” She turned to me and her voice was quiet and kind. “Would you …would you mind leaving the cabin for awhile? I really think we need to talk in private. I’ll call you. I’m sorry, honey.”

I smiled at her and agreed, washed my glass at the sink and went outdoors.

End of Part 5