Part 2

Chapter 5

To the right seems to lead further back into the house. My left seems to lead out to the living areas.

I hesitantly make my way out and rounding a corner I find myself in the living room. Carol is curled up in a big chair doing some sewing and looks up as I come in.

“Hey darlin’, are you feeling any better now?”

“Yea, a bit I guess.”

“Well I’m not surprised you getting all upset and all. I would have too, but don’t you worry, I think we found everything and the last of it will be coming out of the dryer real soon.”

I was immensely relieved. “Thank you Carol, thank you so much. That makes me feel a lot better.”

“And this should too. It looks like most everything just got a bit dirty except a couple of pair of hose and these jeans which got all torn up somehow. We can replace the hose and I just got finished sewing up the tears in the jeans. Here ya go hon.”

I take the jeans from her and look at what she’s done. I’m stunned; each tear has been carefully and very neatly sewn up. She did a beautiful job. My hundred and thirty dollar designer jeans that were oh so artfully cut and torn are now all sewn up.

After everything else that’s happened, the only thing I can do is to start to giggle. Soon I am laughing and I’m not too sure I can stop.

“What is it? What’s so funny?”

Getting myself under a bit more control I tell her, “The jeans, they came that way. I bought them like that.”

Carol’s eyes get bigger with the realization and soon she is joining me and we’re both laughing until our sides are hurting.

Carol is looking past me and stops laughing. Calming down I turn to see what she’s looking at and see a very tall handsome man standing in the doorway. I feel like someone just threw a bucket of cold water on me. This must be my father.

“Bill, there you are. Come on in and meet your daughter. Angel honey, this here’s your daddy.”

There’s tightness around the eyes; you can tell he’s not happy.

“A daughter, humph. Carol will see that you’re settled proper in your room. If you need anything, see her.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe there was a part of me that was hoping that everything had been a mistake and he’d see me and it would all be like a story book. Well it is, a story book written by Steven King. The coldness in his tone and the black look in his eyes put an end to any hope I might have been harboring.

Carol’s looking worriedly back and forth between us. As father starts to turn to leave, I say in as a cold and emotionless voice as I can, “Bill, if you didn’t want me here, why tell everyone you did?”

“Now Angel hon, that’s your daddy, you shouldn’t talk like that,” says an increasingly worried sounding Carol.

Not taking my eyes off of him, I say “no Carol, you’re wrong, he might have fathered me, but he’s not my 'daddy'. Daddies don’t abandon their three year old child and nineteen year old wife and never even attempt to––never mind. He might be my father, but he sure isn’t my daddy.”

With that, I turn my back on him and look out the window at the lengthening shadows. Soon I hear a door slam behind me and the tension in me suddenly is released. Turning I fling myself into Carol’s arms and cry.

Holding me and stroking my hair, Carol says “I don’t know what else you got from him, but you surely got his temper. Give him time Angel honey, he’ll come around. This is all new to him too and though he’ll never admit it, I think he’s scared.”

“But why Carol, why bring me out here if he doesn’t want me?”

“Oh darlin’, every journey starts with a first step. Give it time; it’ll be fine, you’ll see. Now I bet you’re hungry. Dinner isn’t for another hour or so but I bet we can rustle you up a little something to hold you over ‘till then. Come with me.”

Chapter 6

Carol’s idea of ‘a little something’ turns out to be a lot like my idea of a full meal. We go into the kitchen and Carol pulls out enough food to feed an army. I have to stop her and I end up fixing a small chicken sandwich and finish with a peach and a large glass of lemonade.

“Are you sure you’ve had enough? Doesn’t seem like you eat more than a little bird.”

“Oh that was plenty, thank you. I only hope I didn’t eat too much and spoil dinner.”

“No wonder you’re so tiny.” She says with a smile.

Smiling back I ask, “Carol, where’s my stuff? I’d like to change into something more than these shorts and top.”

“Well, right now they’re all in the laundry room. I wanted to show you around and give you your choice of rooms. Then we can move your things in. Come on.”

With that we get up and head down the back hallway.

“Carol, whose room was I in?”

“Oh that was one of the guest rooms. You can take it if you want to but I think you might be more comfortable in one of these, they’re a bit more private.”

The first room that Carol showed me was very nice. The furniture was very much like what was in the guest room but the room was slightly smaller, done in cool blues and there was no bathroom.

“Now this one is kinda nice. The bathroom is right next door and um . . . . . your daddy’s room is across the hall.”

At that I stiffen. I’d rather sleep in the barn than close to him. We leave that room and go down and round the hall.

“Jiminy Carol, this place is huge.”

Chuckling Carol says, “Yea, it’s a big rambling place. Seems like each generation adds on to it just a bit. It used to be a bear to heat but just two years ago we did some major upgrades and it’s not so bad now.

Now here is the room that I thought you might like the best.”

Opening the door she ushers me into the room. The site makes me catch my breath. The room is beautiful. It’s all done in whites, pale blues and pale pinks. Now this is a girl’s room.

The furniture is all done in bleached wood and the bed is an actual canopy bed. I’ve always wanted one of those.

“Oh Carol, this is so pretty. Whose is it?”

“Yours if you want it. It’s one I had awhile back. Let me show you around. Over here is a little sitting room that looks out over a little garden area. This door is to your closet and if you go on through to this here other door, here’s the bathroom.

I’m afraid you don’t get the bathroom all to yourself, through this door is my room. We share the bathroom and that little sitting room. What do you think?”

As she’s talking we’re walking around and are back at the sitting room. It’s a cozy little room with a couple of big soft chairs and a little fireplace.

Turning to Carol I say, “It’s perfect Carol. I’ll take this one if that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok. Let’s go get your things. I thought you might like it.”

I can tell that Carol wants to give me a hug and quite frankly I really want to get one. I hesitantly move towards her and with a smile she opens her arms and we’re hugging. It feels so nice being in her arms and being held. I guess I’m not very good at the tough guy act.

“Thank you Carol. Thank you for all you’ve done and well, all you’re doing. I’m not sure why you’re doing all of this for me, but I do appreciate it.”

“Why I’m doing this? Why darlin’ I told you, we’re family.”

With one more quick hug, we’re off to track down my stuff. Hugging Carol is nice but I feel like I’m ten again. Carol’s so tall that my head barely comes up to her chest and her chest is big enough that if she hugs me too long I’d be in serious danger of suffocation. But it’s nice.

There hasn’t been anyone to just get a hug from since Mom died. Oh Maggie, my therapist, helped me out tons to get through things until I came out here, but Carol is right, there’s something special about family. I really don’t know how I can keep my promise to myself in not getting close to these people. Well Father won’t be a problem, but Carol? No, it may already be too late for that.

Chapter 7

We grab my bags and I load up with them while Carol fills her arms up with my piles of clean clothes. Once back in my room I tell her to just set them on the bed.

As she helps me put things away, I put aside my now ‘repaired’ jeans, a nice pullover blouse and some clean underwear.

“Carol I can finish this up later. Right now I thought I’d just take a quick shower and wash the travel grim off of me. Ok?”

“It’s not a problem honey, you go right ahead.”

“Thanks.”

I grab my makeup case and go on into the bathroom and start the shower. Carol has shampoo and conditioner in here already so I just grab my razor. I don’t really need to use it much, thank god, but I hate body hair and just want to touch up things a bit.

I give myself a critical look in the mirror. Not too shabby. My figure isn’t too bad, the orchestra is nice but I could do with a larger balcony. My hair is my best feature. It’s long, thick and wavy, though I’m always toying with giving it some color. It’s beyond bleach blonde. Given how dark father is, I must have gotten it from Mom, but even though she was blonde, she wasn’t this blonde. The face could do with some work, especially the nose, but the mouth isn’t too bad. Carol’s right, I am pale but I think it looks good on me. Besides, I never seem to tan, just burn and whenever I’ve tried a bronzer any bronzer, I turn orange. I do not look good in orange, especially orange skin.

Looking further south I tell myself that my little ambiguity won’t be a problem in another year. Maybe I can have them work on the nose and boobs at the same time? Nah, not the boobs, Mom said she was a late bloomer and I’d hate to get them just the size I wanted then have a growing spurt. That would suck.

I step into the shower, it’s nice and big and the water pressure is divine. I hate wimpy water pressure. I quickly soap up and discover why Carol smells so nice, it’s this soap. I’m not sure of the brand, but it’s really nice. A quick run over everything with the razor then a rinse and that’s done. Now for the more daunting task of washing my hair. I really like having long hair; I just wish it wasn’t such a pain in the you-know-what to take care of.

I turn off the water and as I wring the water out of my hair, I notice that I don’t have any towels. Just as I’m about to call out to Carol, there’s a knock on the door.

Carol says from the other side of the door, “I just realized you might need some towels, can I come in?”

“Thanks.”

Carol comes on in with a stack of towels and hands me the top one. “Here ya go darlin’.”

I bend over and wrap my hair up and when I stand up, I notice Carol looking me over.

“I was right; you are a pretty little thing. Now turn around and I’ll dry your back.”

I’m a little bit surprised by her reaction. I thought that she’d be at least passing curious by my condition but she paid it no mind.

“There ya go darlin’. Now come get dressed so we can finish up with putting your belongings away. I want to finish giving you the tour around the house and introduce you to some folks.

We go back out to my room and I start to get dressed.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are your plans for, ah your ah . . . . “

“Birth defect?”

“Um, yea. If it’s none of my business, just tell me to butt out. I’m just curious is all.”

“Oh I don’t mind. Hopefully in another year, I can have my operation. Mom set up a trust fund for me and I’ve been working with my doctors to make sure all is in place to have it done.”

“After that, no more reminders right?”

“Of my birth gender? Well physically that’s kinda true, however I’ll still have to take hormones and there’s a couple of other things that won’t be real pleasant from what I hear that I’ll need to do. Actually I’ll have more things to do afterwards than I do now because thankfully I don’t have to take blockers right now but that would change anyway after the operation. Plus I’ll never be able to have kids of my own. Course, that’s not a problem right now, but someday it might have been nice.”

“Blockers, what are they?”

“Well normally I’d need to take something to block the male hormones from doing their thing, but that’s not a problem for me anymore.”

“Why not?”

Smiling I say, “You weren’t paying much attention before I put my underwear on were you?”

“Well I didn’t want to stare or anything.”

“No maracas.”

“What?”

“No testicles, I’m gelded.”

“What! How on earth?”

Holding up my arms side-by-side in front of me, I say, “See my arm, how the left one is slightly bent?”

“Yes.”

“That happened at the same time. Some kids I knew a couple of years ago found out about me. One of them was a boy that, well let’s just say we were a little curious about each other. Anyway, they found out and felt that I needed to be taught a lesson or something. So one day they beat the crap out of me. That boy? Well he broke my arm. When I was lying on the ground, his little sister proceeded to kick me repeatedly in the groin, even after I was unconscious. The result was two ruptured testicles and a long painful hospital stay. Nothing could be saved so they removed them.

It turns out that little lemon turned into lemonade for me. Now I don’t need the blockers.

“Oh my god, you poor thing. How could they?”

“As I said, I’m different. People don’t like what they don’t understand and they don’t understand someone being born physically one gender but being the other gender in their mind, heart and soul and wanting to change the body to fit the soul. It scares some. Heck, I don’t understand it and I have a far better perspective on it than most. It scares me too sometimes.

Just ask your brother. To him I’m a freak, a slur on his manhood or some such crap.”

“Oh darlin’, he’s not . . .”

“Carol stop.” I finish dressing and continue. “Carol, why am I here?”

“Why darlin’, I told you. We’re family.”

“That might have worked the first time but it doesn’t wash now. Carol your brother, my father, doesn’t want me here and he’s royally pissed off that I am. So why am I here? He didn’t send for me did he?”

Looking much like I did the time Mom caught me using all of her best perfume to scent my bubble bath, Carol says, “No, no he didn’t.”

“Was it you?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Why after all these years. Especially why when it’s so obvious that he hates me?”

“Oh darlin’ he doesn’t hate you, there’s something else goin’ on there and I’m not sure what it is. As to why after all these years, well, I just learned about you a year ago myself.”

“What? How?”

“Your mamma. She got in contact with us. It turns out she had been trying to reach us for some time, but your daddy wouldn’t call her back.

See we, none of us, knew about you. When your daddy moved back here he was different, darker. As much as we all tried, he would never talk about what happened and he never mentioned you.

When your momma got sick, and when she realized she wasn’t going to get better, she felt you should be with family.

Your daddy was off up north on some business when a registered letter came. Thinking it was something to do with the ranch, I opened it and it was a letter from your mamma. I called her right away and that first time, I think we talked for hours. That was also the first time I heard about you. Anyway, I agreed with your momma that you needed to be with family so I promised that I’d do all I could to get your daddy to take you in.

Well, here you are.”

I was stunned. I didn’t know what to make of all of this. I was staring down at my feet trying to take in all I had just heard.

“Um, so he really never wanted me here, I’m only here because he’s being forced to take me.”

Taking a shaky breath I say, “Ok, that’s ok. If I can use your phone tomorrow, I need to call the storage company so they don’t ship my stuff out here. Um, I’ll also need to call Mom’s lawyers to see what I need to do to move back there. I, ah I guess I’ll need to get a plane ticket or something too. Ah . . .”

“Oh darlin’ no, no darlin’ no.” And the next thing I know I’m wrapped in Carol’s arms and it’s taking everything I have not to cry. I feel like a guitar string wound too tight, I’m that wound up.

“This is where you need to be darlin’. Give it time, give him time. Please sweetie, I haven’t known you for even a whole day and I already care so much for you. Don’t go darlin’, please. Give it time, please?”

My hands are clinched so hard my nails are cutting into my palms. It’s taking everything I have to hold myself together.

“I, I can’t call anyone tonight. L-let me think, think on it. Ok? Right now, I’d really like to be alone. P-please?”

“Sure, but I’m just on the other side of the door if you need me. I’m here for you Angel.”

After Carol leaves and closes the door, I go over to my pack and pull out the picture I have of Mom and me when were visiting Ellis Island. We had a stranger on the ferry take it for us. We’re up against the rail with the Statue of Liberty behind us and we’re hugging each other. It was just before Mom told me about the cancer.

I take it and hugging it to my chest I curl up on the bed and cry myself to sleep. It takes a long time.

Chapter 8

All my life I’ve had nightmares and they’ve always been variations of the same one. See there are these creatures that are made out of blackness and they kind of look like a sheet flapping in the wind. In fact, there’s been any number of times that on seeing a dark sheet drying on a close line I would freeze in place with fear. These things fly along by flapping and I know, just know that if they reach me and cover me, I’ll die. I call them black flyers.

It used to be that they’d remain in the background of my dreams or while I’m awake I’d catch them out of the corner of my eye. About the time that I started being a girl full time, they got bolder in my dreams and would come closer to me. All they touched in my dreams died. If for instance I was dreaming about let’s say a field of flowers, they would show up and wherever they passed, the flowers would wither and die. While awake, I’d just catch them moving out of the corner of my eye but when I turned my head they’d disappear.

Maggie my therapist tells me they aren’t real, that they’re just a manifestation of the fear I feel in transitioning. I don’t think so, but she’s supposed to be the expert.

Since Mom died, they’ve been bolder. I haven’t told anyone about the change in their behavior, figuring that they’ll just attribute it to my being upset about Mom dying. Maybe they’d be right. They feel real to me.

One time a black flyer just brushed by me, lightly touching my arm in my dream. I cried out and when I woke up, my arm was cold and numb and I could hardly move my fingers for the first hour or so after waking.

When I have a black flyer nightmare, I know I’m dreaming. I know it, but I can’t wake up. Tonight I have another, and there are more of them in it.

It’s bad. I’m running down deserted streets. In the deepest shadows, eyes appear and follow me as a run. Looking back I catch movement flitting from shadow to shadow, getting closer and closer no matter how hard I run. Soon there are others on either side of me and they start to move closer.

Weeping in fear, I turn down a street only to find that it’s a dead end. I stop and when I turn, the exit to the street is completely blocked by the flyers. As they flit closer and closer I retreat until my back is to a cold wet wall.

They continue to get closer and I’m cowering, whimpering in fear. A large rat darts across the alley but is caught by one of the shadows. There’s a high pitched squeal then nothing. When the shadow retreats the rat is laying there dead. Its once bloated body shriveled and wrinkled. That’s what is going to happen to me, I just know it. Occasionally a tendril like a finger of black smoke will whip out closer to me, making me flinch. I can feel that these creatures enjoy my terror. Each whimper, each cry makes them stronger but I can’t stop. They take pleasure in tormenting me.

There is a flyer, larger than the others and as it approaches the others give way. It towers over me and I know that it is preparing to cover me; I know that I’m going to die this time. But just as it seems that it is going to strike, I hear the sound of a crow. The sound seems to make them recoil. Each caw makes them flinch and pull back a bit more.

No longer are they pressing in on me quite so close. Unbelievably, they begin retreating. The sound of the crow is getting closer. The cawing of the bird is mixing with the whimpers coming from me.

The next thing I know, there is a large black bird between me and the black flyers, its blue-black feathers glitter in the subdued lighting. The cawing of the bird sounds almost like a challenge. The shadows retreat and finally disappear.

The bird turns towards me, one shiny black eye looking me over. It hops upon my shoulder and the terror that fills me lessens. Its large beak preens my hair and soon my whimpering stops.

It almost seems to me that I hear the crow whispering to me as normal sleep finally takes over.