----------=BigCloset Retro Classic!=----------

So to complete their new identities and family image,
one of Steve Wilson's two young boys had to become a girl!

by Arecee

I dedicate this Retro Classic to the author of this story - my close friend and surrogate father, Arecee, who passed away at the beginning of 2016. May your soul find a new and much more enriched and fulfilling life, just the way you would like it. With all of my heart and love...and until we meet again... Sephrena.

---

 
Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf on Sunday 05-05-2013 at 04:24:44 am, this retro classic was pulled out of the closet, and re-presented for our newer readers. ~Sephrena
 
 
 
Chapter One
 
“Boys, get in the car. You’re going to be late for baseball,” my dad yelled to the rear of the house.

“Yes Dad, be right there,” Grady, my twin brother, answered.

I finished tying my shoes and sprinted to the bedroom door.

“Beat you to the car,” I said, looking back at Grady.

“You have a head start, Marcus. That’s not fair,” he replied.

“So?’ I said, laughing all the way to the car.

Dad had backed the car from the garage and was waiting for his two whirlwind sons to join him.

“Where’s Grady?” he asked.

“Tying his shoes,” I replied.

Grady came charging through the open front door of the house, slamming it behind him as he jumped off the porch.

“Don’t slam the doors,” I heard my mother shout, as the vibration shook the house.

“Boys, how many times do we have to tell you not to slam the door?” Dad asked.

“I don’t know,” we answered in unison.

A smiling Grady scooted next to me, laying his mitt on the seat next to the door.

Grady and I had had our seventh birthday just a week earlier and we would no longer be playing T ball. This was a new season and the coaches would be pitching the ball.

Our father was one of the coaches and we knew what to expect if he pitched. Dad had worked with us for more than a year and even though we had been in T ball the year before, we had learned how to hit a ball without the T.

Ten minutes after leaving the house, we pulled up to the field. Grady and I burst from the car like a shot, slamming the two rear doors shut.

“Boys,” Dad shouted.

“Sorry Dad,” I yelled back, as we ran to join our teammates.

John Carson, the head coach looked at me and asked, “ Grady, do you have your bat?”

“I’m Marcus, Coach, yeah Dad’s bringing them,” I replied.

“I don’t know how your dad can tell you two apart,” he said, shaking his head.

“Marcus, come and get your things. Do I look like a servant?” Dad asked.

“No Dad,” I groveled, while Grady started laughing at my predicament. He stood holding his bat and glove with a smirk on his lips. I’d get him back later. I always did.

“Hey Steve, how’s it going?” John asked my father.

“Good John. First game of the season, it doesn’t get any better than that,” Dad replied.

“Jeez, I can’t figure out how you can tell your boys apart. I thought Marcus was Grady a minute ago.”

“If you lived with them for seven years, you could tell the difference, believe me. They might be identical twins, but there’s always something different about them. The only thing that’s the same is their personalities. I don’t think they ever stop running, but you know how boys are?”

“Yeah I know what you mean. My Justin is the same way. His older brother never stops tormenting him and you wouldn’t believe the fights they get into.”

“The twins fight too, but get along in ways I can’t explain. It’s scary how one will start a sentence and the other finish it.”

“Well, at least they’re both good ball players. I don’t think one is better than the other. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were asked to be on the all-star team.”

“I don’t know about that, we’ll see.”

As luck would have it, Dad pitched the game and Grady got two hits. Me, I got three, payback, Grady. Oh, and we won the game.

The team gathered around the coaches after the game for the usual comments on how good we played, and the real reason, snacks.

Bill’s mom had snack duty and handed out the drink in a bag and Rice Crispy treats. As good as they tasted, it wasn’t nearly enough for growing boys.

“I’m hitting Burger King on the way home,” John stated. “Anyone want to join us?”

“Dad, can we?” Grady chirped.

“I guess, Marcus, you want a burger?”

“Yeah Dad, I’m hungry.”

“That settles it then, we’ll see you at Burger King,” Dad said.

Five minutes later we were at Burger King. Most of the team had joined us and pretty soon we were laughing and throwing French fries at each other.

“Boys, knock it off,” my father said.

Grady was sitting across the table from me and I couldn’t be the last to be hit by a fry, so I chucked one at him when my father turned away.

“You wait Marcus,” he snarled. The other guys at the table just laughed.

Finishing our burgers we went with our fathers to our respective cars and left to drive home. Dad turned on the radio and listened as the news reported that Constitution Way was closed because of a house fire and traffic was being rerouted through the nearby neighborhoods.

We live in a small town in New Jersey not far from Newark but when the main street through town is closed traffic is a nightmare.

“What are we going to do, Dad?” Grady asked.

“Never fear, the pathfinder is here,” he laughed.

Dad was really good at knowing all the small side streets in our town so he turned right, away from the main street and drove for several blocks before turning right, then left.

“This is a long cut,” he laughed, “but there won’t be any traffic, just a bunch of warehouses.”

Grady and I watched as Dad maneuvered the car through the industrial zone. Several years ago the city build barricades across the road, which made driver have to follow a circuitous route to their destination. The idea was to stop people from drag racing after two drivers had died in separate instances.

Dad turned left then right, and left again, around the front of a warehouse. The district was empty with the exception of our car.

There were two loud popping sounds as we drove past a driveway between two buildings. We looked into the ally and saw a man holding another man by the back of his shirt. He had a pistol in his other hand. The man holding the gun was ugly. He had a scar under his eye, just a short one, but it was there. His hair was a dirty blonde color and was swept straight back above his eyes. His eye were blue, but had the look of the devil. I know I was just seven years old, but the cold look in his eyes scared the crap out of me. Dad was watching, as was Grady. The gunman turned and pointed his pistol toward us, but before he could do anything we had passed by the alley.

“My God, we have to call the police,” Dad said.

He accelerated the car down the street until we rounded another corner. Dad pulled his cell phone from his jacket and dialed 911.

“Dad, who was that?” Grady asked.

“Yeah Dad, who was it?” I asked, remembering the evil glint in the man’s eye. His face scared me more than the worse nightmare I had ever had. I tried to put his face out of my mind; the evil blue eyes, the crooked nose and the cold white fish look of his skin. I was terrified by what I had seen.

Dad dialed the emergency operator and put his phone on speaker.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My boys and I just witnessed a murder,” Dad replied.

“Where are you sir? Do you need an ambulance?”

“No. We’re at the warehouse district on Chamberlin about two blocks from where the murder took place. The killer is between two warehouses on Lincoln Avenue.”

“I’m calling the police. Wait where you are.”

“I won’t do that. My boys might be in danger. I’ll take them home and call the police station to give my statement. Please hurry before the man gets away.”

Dad shut his cell phone and drove off.

“I’m not waiting for the police with that killer still in the area. We’d be like sitting ducks if he found us,” he said to my brother and me.

“Dad, what’s going to happen?” Grady asked.

“Yeah Dad, what’s going to happen to us?”

“Boys, nothing is going to happen. We’ll give the police a statement and that should be all there is to it,” he said, the normal confidence was gone from his voice.

We arrived home and Dad called the police as he had promised the 911 operator. They showed up at our door thirty minutes later. There was an older man, well older than my Dad and a woman that looked at least thirty.

“Mr. Wilson, I’m Sergeant Rendell and this is Officer Graphton. I was told you witnessed the murder on Lincoln?”

“Yes, my boys and I did.”

“Is there somewhere we can sit down?”

“Let’s go into the living room. Honey, the police are here,” Dad shouted toward their bedroom.

When we had returned home, Dad told Mom all about what we had seen and I thought she would have a breakdown. She screamed at Dad for letting us see such a horrible thing, as if he had a choice. She ran to their bedroom in tears, screaming that her boys would never be the same. Dad couldn’t convince her that all we saw was the shooter. He left out the dead guy, and to be honest we sped off so quickly we barely saw that.

Mom came to the living room, her eyes red with tears.

“This is my wife, Sharon Wilson,” Dad said as a way of introduction.

“Sergeant Rendell, and this is my partner Officer Graphton.”

“Wha……wwhat’s going to happen to my boys?” Mom asked, unable to control her tears.

Mom had to get a life. God all she did was cry every time she was under stress. Women, I just don’t understand.

“Nothing will happen to them, Mrs. Wilson. All we want is a statement from them and if worse comes to worse, they will be asked to testify in court if we catch the guy. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Court? My babies will have to testify in court?” she asked, and then the dam really broke. “Oh my God please tell me they won’t have to?”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wilson, I can’t promise that.”

“It’s all your fault Steve. Why did you go that way?”

“I told you, to avoid traffic. Sharon,” Dad pleaded, “It’s not like I asked the killer to be there. I don’t like this anymore than you do.”

“I’m really sorry about this, but I do have to ask all three of you some questions. We might as well get started and we’ll be out of your hair in no time,” officer Graphton chirped hopefully. “May I take the boys into another room? We don’t want them to hear their father’s description of the crime because it might contaminate what they remember.”

“Take them into the kitchen. It’s through that door,” Dad said pointing to the kitchen door.

“Thank you Mr. Wilson. Come on boys, this won’t take but a minute.”

We followed officer Graphton to the kitchen to wait our turn.

“Mr. Wilson, when did you become aware that the killing had taken place?”

“After we turned the corner onto Lincoln. We heard a shot just as we approached the alley.”

“What did you see after that?”

“A man holding a pistol in one hand and the collar of the shirt of a man slumped next to him.”

“Was the man dead?”

“I have no idea. All I know is that the man standing had shot the other man.”

“What did the shooter look like?”

“He was white, about five foot nine, judging by the height of the car. He had dirty blonde hair, a ruddy complexion, blue eyes and a crooked nose. He had a small scar under his right eye. He wore black Dockers and wore a long sleeve red shirt. I thought that was strange as it was a warm day.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“He pointed his pistol at us and frowned as I sped off. After that we called 911.”

“If that’s all, I’d like to ask your sons a few questions.”

“I’ll send them in.”

“One at a time please. I don’t want their testimony tainted.”

Dad walked into the kitchen and said, “Grady, you go first.”

“Okay dad.”

Grady left the room and returned five minutes later.

“Your turn, Marcus.”

I walked into the living room and sat on the sofa, brushing my hair out of my eyes. Dad promised we would finally be able to get a crew cut this year. Mom always liked being able to comb our hair with jells, but that wasn’t cool, and crew cuts were.

“What do you remember about this afternoon?” Sergeant Rendell asked.

“Like what?”

“What you witnessed on your way home.”

“Some guy shot another guy.”

“What did the man with the pistol look like?”

“I don’t know. He had kind of brown hair but not really brown, kind of blonde but not blonde and he had a scar. He scared the heck out of me.”

“Why did he scare you?”

“He looked mean. Kind of like a dog growling at you except for the scar. Oh, and he was white, kind of like the belly of a fish.”

“What can you tell me about his scar?”

“It was right here,” I said, pointing under my right eye.

“You’re sure?”

“Yep, it was ugly.”

“Can you describe what he was wearing?”

“Old man clothes, like my father wears.”

The Sergeant snickered to himself.

“So he wasn’t cool like you and your brother?

“Well no, but we still had our baseball uniforms on.”

“Do you remember what color they were?”

“No, I just remember the scar.”

“Okay Marcus, thank you for all your help. Will you get your parents for me?”

“Sure,” I said, running from the sofa into the kitchen.

“Dad, the policeman wants to see you.”

“Thanks Marcus,” he replied, and walked from the room.

The lady cop joined them and soon after they left the house.

Dad came into the kitchen and said, “Good job boys. All our stories were the same and they think it might lead to an arrest.”

Three days later an arrest was made. Apparently the police knew right away who the man was from our description. Later that day there was a knock on our front door.

Mom opened the door and asked,” May I help you?”

“Yes, FBI, Mrs. Wilson. We need to talk,” the older man said while both showed their badges.

Mom opened the door for them to enter and showed them to the living room.

“Is Mr. Wilson home?” he asked.

“He should be home in five minutes, what is this about?” Mom asked.

“It’s about the man who was arrested this morning for killing the man your husband and sons witnessed.”

“Is there a problem?” Mom asked and started to shake.

“I’m afraid there is, but maybe we should wait until your husband gets home.”

Mom began to pace the floor, her hands shaking more with each passing minute. She was a nervous wreck when my father arrived.

“Hi honey,” Dad said as he entered the living room. “Who are these people?”

“They’re the FBI. Steve, what’s going on?” Mom asked, her voice shaking with fear.

“Mr. Wilson, I’m agent Thomas and this is agent Burlingame. We came here to warn you that your lives might be in danger. It seems the man who you witnessed killing the other man is part of the Russian Mafia. Knowing what we do about that group, it won’t be long before they come around to intimidate you.”

“It sounds as though you’re doing their job for them. What does this mean for my family?”

“You’re going to need protection until the trial.”

“And how long will that be?”

“I hate to tell you this, but it could be a year before everything is done.”

“How much danger are we in?”

“Enough that you will have our agents living with you during this time. After that I don’t have a clue, but I wouldn’t doubt that you’ll be put into witness protection.”

“I don’t get it. All we did was witness that man killing the other person. What did the dead man do?”

“He stole a considerable sum of money from the mob.”

“And they killed him?”

“They’ve killed for a lot less and that’s why you’re in danger. The Justice Department wants your testimony to help put this scum behind bars and that’s why we’ll have at least two agents with you constantly.”

“Why is this person so important?”

“He’s the brother of the czar. Nothing goes down without a word from the leader and now we have his brother in custody. It goes without saying, if the mob can get you to not testify, or in the worse case kill you, then they’ll be satisfied.”

“What’s going to become of our life?”

“For now, nothing. You can continue as if nothing ever happened. Your boys can continue to play ball and your lives go on as normal. We’ll protect you. We know you’re a coach for your sons’ little league team and the only difference will be extra spectators in the stands. It’s what comes after you testify. We won’t be able to continue to protect you and that’s why I mentioned the witness protection program. That plan won’t happen until a year from now, so don’t give it another thought. When the time comes, we’ll sit down with your family and lay out your options. Until then, enjoy being yourselves.”
 
 
 
Chapter Two
 
Our life did go on. Grady and I made the all-star team for kids under eight. I was shortstop and he played second base. I don’t think we were much better that the other kids, but we sort of had this mental connection with each other. I always knew what Grady was going to do and he knew the same about me.

The best thing though was that we both got our crew cuts. I loved the short hair, as did Grady. School ended soon after and our vacation started. On our first day the community pool was our first stop.

We were swimming as our body guards watched, I’m sure thrilled with the spectacle of a hundred screaming kids.

I loved being in the water, splashing and trying my best to swim. Even more I liked to dunk kids I knew and especially Grady. If I didn’t get him, he got me. As luck would have it, he had turned to talk to Spencer James, one of our best friends, so he didn’t see me coming. I snuck up on him, lowered myself under the water and grabbed his legs. Swoosh and he was under water. I came back up and was laughing so hard, I almost peed my pants.

“That wasn’t fair Marcus. The least you could have done was warn me so we could have tried to dunk each other.”

“There’s nothing fun about that,” I responded.

That’s all it took and Grady jumped up and grabbed my head pushing it under the water.

“Hah, got you Marcus.”

“Not for long,” I replied, and we were soon wrestling.

The lifeguard came running and yep, we got kicked out of the pool.

Our vacation passed with us swimming almost every day. With our tans we looked like we had just come from the Philippines. There were no attempts on our lives, but there were several times we were told we had been watched by the mob.

Around the first of August, soccer season started. Real games wouldn’t be played until September but it felt good running and kicking the ball again. Because we’re twins, Grady and I had to be on the same team. Dad didn’t coach soccer so we were among the first players drafted.

The way it works is the coach’s child is his first draft choice and then anyone else is fair game. Players are rated from one to four, one being the most skillful and four the least. Grady and I are ones, so when one of us was drafted, the coach was gaining two number ones with one draft choice. There aren’t a lot of ones, so being able to choose us was a real plus. On the other hand, being seven our skill level didn’t really matter because they “didn’t” keep score. There would be no winners or losers in our games, but I will tell you this, we haven’t lost a game yet and we’ve won by at least ten goals in each game. Maybe the officials think we’re playing friendlies, but everyone else on the field knew better.

School started again and with soccer and schoolwork, our days were full. Around the end of October, Agents Thomas and Burlingame visited us at home again. They wanted to explain what would happen after the trial was over.

Mr. Thomas spoke first.

“The trial won’t take place until next April, but we wanted to get you ready for your life afterward. The FBI can’t continue to protect you forever and there really isn’t a solution for you to continue your life as it is,” he said.

“What then are we supposed to do?” Dad asked.

“The only real solution is to bring you and your family into the witness protection program. After the trial is over, the plan is to allow you to remain here for about a week and then you’ll just disappear.”

“Where will we be going? Where will I work? What about the boys?”

“Ah yes, the boys. Unfortunately for us they have created quite a problem. Changing the identities of you and your wife is quite easy, but hiding twin boys is a horse of a different color. If your boys weren’t identical, there wouldn’t be a problem, but yours are identical. Hiding seven-year-old identical twins presents a problem because there just aren’t that many identical twins that age in this or any other country. We hide you and the boys and the first thing the bad guys are going to look for, is a family with identical twin boys seven years old. See the problem? Find the boys and you find the parents. Now, if they weren’t identical, our problem would be solved.”

“Would it really be that easy for them to find us?”

“Absolutely. These people will go to any lengths to find you. They have to make an example of you to show anyone that even thinks about testifying against them won’t get away with it.”

“If that’s the case what can we do about it?”

“What we want to suggest is something we have never done before and if you don’t want to go through with it, we can understand but if you don’t I doubt you will live much longer than a year after the trial is over. It has been suggested that your boys become fraternal twins.”

“How would you do that? They look so much alike it’s scary and telling people they are fraternal would be foolish. All lying like that would do is draw attention to the identical fraternal twins.”

“Point well taken, but there is another way and this is the uncomfortable part of our discussion. The obvious solution is to have one of your boys change gender, become a girl so to speak. There have never been identical twins of different sexes but there are many fraternal twins that are one boy and one girl.”

“That’s crazy. I’m not going to have one of my boys become a girl? How would we decide which one would have to change and what if we refuse?”

“That would be your choice. We’re just making the suggestion. What you decide to do with it is your business, but keep in mind that having a family with a boy and girl might be preferable to a dead one with two boys.”

“I’m sorry, but we’ll have to think about it. As it stands right now, I would have to say no.”

“It’s your choice and the only reason we’re bringing it up now is that it gives you plenty of time to decide what you want to do.”

The agents rose and left us alone.

“I don’t want to be a girl,” Grady said.

“Neither do I,” I stated.

“Don’t worry boys, no one will make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“If Grady’s a girl, do I get to pull his hair?” I laughed, reaching for his crew cut.

“No one is going to be pulling anyone’s hair and who knows, maybe you’ll be the girl instead of Grady,” Dad teased.

“Yeah, then I can pull up your dress,” Grady warned, breaking into a fit of laughter.

“Boys, enough. We have a lot of time to decide what we’re going to do and I don’t like the idea of one of you becoming a girl.”

“Okay, Dad,” we said in unison.

Tine passed slowly when we were in school and too quickly when we weren’t. As usual, Grady and I were the best players in soccer and were looking forward to playing basketball during the winter. This would be the first year we would be able to compete in the church basketball league.

Dad had put up a hoop on the garage and we had been practicing for almost a year. I saw why seven was the cut off age because we could barely reach the basket with our shots past five feet from the basket. We were both equal with our ball handling skills. To be honest I couldn’t wait until baseball season.

I noticed Mom and Dad talking a lot when we weren’t supposed to be in the room, and most of what they were talking about was us. I knew because they fell silent when they saw us watching. I kind of knew what it was they were talking about since it was the elephant in the room, would one of us have to become a girl and how could they choose? The answer came in the middle of February.

Dad called us together for a family conference. The only time he did that was to remind Grady and me that Mom needed more help around the house, which meant we had to keep our room clean. We had a tendency to put things away for about two days and then fell back into the usual pattern of filing our clothes and toys into any empty space we could find on the floor. Today was different.

“Boys, I know you’ve seen Mom and I talking and I’m sure you wonder what we were talking about?”

“I think I know, Dad,” Grady answered.

“Yeah, the girl thing,” I added.

“You’re both right, but that’s not all of it. During the last three months, the FBI has stopped four attempts on our life. The trial is going to start April twenty-first and they won’t need your testimony for at least a week.”

“What’s testimony, Dad?” I asked.

“It’s where you tell the jury what you saw, that’s called testimony.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, getting back to what we were talking about, these people know where we live and just about everything about us. For that reason, we will have to go into witness protection when this is all over. Your mom and I have talked about this and what can be done. We could relocate as we are, but will we be safe or will we be found? The FBI man said the bad guys would probably find us. We could keep moving, but that isn’t the life I want for you boys. I want us safe and I want to live a life like everyone else. I want you to be able to compete in sports and have friends like you have now.”

“Does one of us have to be a girl?” Grady asked sadly.

We both knew what the answer was going to be as Dad shifted nervously.

“I won’t make either of you do that,” he replied. “We can try moving, but eventually the bad guys will find us and, well we can try to hide from them as best as possible.”

We sat silently for what seemed to be minutes. Grady had tears running from his eyes and I know I did too. Mom came and gathered my brother and me into an embrace.

“I love you boys so much,” she whispered.

It was then that I made the decision that would change my life.

“I’ll do it,” I said softly.

“Do what?” Mom asked.

“I’ll be the girl,” I answered numbly.

“Marcus, you don’t have to.”

“I know Mom, but if I don’t we’ll all be killed. If I do, can I still play baseball?”

A giggle escaped Mom’s lips and a smile crossed Dad’s lips.

“Of course you can. Jessica is on Bill’s team and if I remember correctly she hit a home run last year.”

“When do I have to be a girl?”

“I’ll ask the FBI people and let you know tomorrow.”

So it was settled, I was going to become a girl. Little did I know I wasn’t going to become a pretend girl but a real one, but I’ll get to that later.

Agent Thomas and agent Burlingame returned the next day to explain the details as to our disappearance and the trial.

“Mr., Mrs. Wilson, boys, I’m glad you came to the choice you made. It’s very courageous of you.”

“It was Marcus’s decision. He volunteered.”

“You’re quite a brave young man Marcus,” agent Thomas said.

I smiled, feeling quite pleased with myself.

“Thank you,” I answered smugly.

Grady kicked my leg.

“What about me?” he asked.

“You’re brave too,” the agent said.

“Boys, let agent Thomas speak,” Dad admonished.

“Thank you. Here’s what we’ve put together as a plan for you folks. It’s still two months before the trial starts and I’m sure the bad guys will ramp up their effort to get to you. We’re going to increase our presence here and everywhere else you go. Boys you will have an agent with you at all times until after the trial and the same goes for you Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. When the trial is over, we’ll take you to a place in Michigan for a month before we relocate you to your final destination.”

“Where will that be?” Dad asked.

“We think we’ve found a place in Jackson, California.”

“Where’s that?” Grady asked.

“It’s in the Sierra foothills near Stockton.”

“Do they play baseball there?” I asked.

Both agents chuckled at that.

“Yes, I’m sure they do.”

“What about school?” Mom asked.

“Their schools are very good and the boys will be tutored while they are in Michigan. All of Marcus’s records will be changed to indicate he has always been a girl and will be attending school in the fall as a girl. We will take care of registering the children in school near your home. Obviously we’ll have to use our own doctors for the physical required for entry into your new school. Other than that the hard part is going to come later.”

“What hard part? Isn’t Marcus becoming a girl bad enough?”

“I don’t think you understand that Marcus will become a real girl. He won’t be pretending other than the first three years and that’s so he can learn to be a girl. If you change your minds during that period then you will be on your own. You’ll be able to go wherever you wish with our thanks for your duty, but I wouldn’t recommend it. As we’ve already told you, these people don’t give up.”

“Why is the first three years so important?” Mom asked.

“Because nothing will be been done to Marcus that can’t be undone, he’ll still be a boy living as girl. When he turns eleven, things will change. Marcus will have by then been living as a girl for three years and eleven is the time girls go through puberty. Eleven is an average age, some girls start earlier and some later, but they do start. Marcus will start his too, only as a girl. Our doctors will start him on hormones that will change the boy into a woman. There will be no going back. After he’s been on hormones for about three years, he’ll have the final operation to complete his journey. As I say, when he turns eleven there won’t be any turning back.”

Mom and Dad had both visibly paled. I don’t think they had really thought about what was going to happen to me.

“I thought none of this could happen until they were eighteen?” Mom asked.

“Normally that’s the case, but being the government we can pretty much do what we want. Of course, you will never be able to tell anyone what we do and, if you do, there is a very safe living facility in Leavenworth, Kansas more than willing to let you live there.”

“We’d never say anything, and even if we did, who would believe us?” Dad asked.

“Point well taken. As I said, I know you’ve made the decision to do this, but I just want you aware of what exactly what would be taking place. If it’s any conciliation, Marcus might welcome the changes after being a girl for three years.”

“Will I be able to play soccer too?”

My words broke the tension in the room. Everything was settled, I was going to become a girl and what the heck, it would be like being undercover like a spy or something.

“Yes honey, you be able to play soccer too. There are lots of good women soccer players.”

The agents rose and thanked us for our time.

“We’ll be seeing you at the trial, and I’d like to make a suggestion. I think you should stop cutting Marcus’s hair, real hair is much easier to take care of than a wig.”

“Thanks agent Thomas, we’ll do that.”

Then they were gone.
 
 
 
Chapter Three
 
After the meeting, time seemed to fly. It felt as though the trial had been moved to the next day, however in reality it was postponed for two weeks. It was the middle of May before we had to testify. Because of our ages, Grady and I were kept in a separate room away from the trial chambers. When we were asked to testify, we were led into the courtroom and when we finished we were brought back.

Grady went first and then it was my turn.

“Marcus, can you tell us what you saw last year about this time with regards to the man sitting at the defense table?”

“I saw that man holding a gun to another man’s head. I think the man was dead.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He wasn’t moving and didn’t look at us when we drove by.”

“Can you show us the man you saw with the gun?”

“Him,” I said pointing at the defendant. He in turn scowled at me giving a menacing look.

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I remember the scar under his eye.”

“Is that all you remember?”

“Yes sir.”

“That’s all, your honor.”

The defense attorney stood and walked toward me.

“Are you sure you didn’t see someone else?” he asked.

“Yes sir, I’m sure. I thought he was going to shoot at us when he saw us.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because he started to turn the gun in our direction.”

“Do you know who he is?”

“I think he’s in some kind of gang.”

“And where would you get that idea?”

“The FBI man told us.”

“The FBI man told you?

“Yes.”

“Did he also tell you to lie about seeing him?”

“Objection, your honor,” the DA yelled.

“Mr. Worthington, you know better,” the judge said.

“No more questions.”

That was it. We were done. Now all we had to do was wait until the FBI came for us.

That was a week after the trial ended. The jury had found the man guilty and he was going to spend a long time in jail. We had one hour to get what we needed and then we were taken away. Mom had packed some things to take but most of what we owned stayed with the house. There would be no movers to tip off the Russian mob that we were entering the witness protection program.

We were brought to Newark International airport and flown to Detroit, Michigan. We were provided an apartment and some new clothing; mostly mine, because I was going to become a girl from this day forward.

When we arrived in Detroit, we were brought to an apartment complex owned by the Federal government. It was used to house new arrivals, not ones like us but people who had transferred to Detroit and were going to work in the city. The area was sparse, but it’s not like it would matter much since we would be moving in a month.

The apartment had two bedrooms, which normally wouldn’t create a problem, but with me becoming a girl we wondered what it might do to Grady’s and my relationship. It wouldn’t take long to find out.

We got settled in, although living here was like going to a hotel without a maid. We met with the witness protection people and we all began a series of classes to teach us what to expect when we finally moved to Jackson. I had to go through the most intense training of all because of my unusual circumstances. I had to learn to become like a girl my age.

My training began and it was what I thought it would be. Actually I had no idea what it would be, but it was what I thought. First we had to think of a name for me. Marcus wouldn’t make it for a girl. We decided to let Mom name her new little girl.

“Mom, have you thought of a name for me yet?” I asked.

“Not yet. I knew I was having twin boys so I didn’t even bother to think of names for girls when I was pregnant.”

“What about Grady, will he have to change his name too?”

“I’m afraid he will, but he already picked one for himself, Teddy.”

“Teddy?”

“Yes, its short for Theodore, Ted, or Teddy.”

“I had a friend Cindy at school. Could I be called Cindy?”

“That’s a lovely name. Cynthia, what about a middle name?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you pick.”

“Hmm, why don’t we name you after my mother, Nancy.”

“I like Marcus better, but I guess those names will be okay.”

“I’ll let your father and brother know what we decided and have them call you Cindy from now on.”

“Thanks Mom.”

That’s how I got my name and why I called my brother Ted and he called me Cindy from this day forward.

Next came the clothes I would now have to wear as a young girl. They weren’t much different from my boy’s clothes, except the cloth felt different. My old jeans were made of heavy denim and I could beat the heck out of them without worrying that they would rip. Sometimes Grady and I would go overboard playing and I might tear a seam, but it was rare. My new jeans were made of a lighter material and cut differently. They buttoned backwards and had flowers on the pockets. I’m sure I would rip the heck out of them if Grady and I played like we usually did.

My T-shirts were different too. The neck came a bit lower on my chest and they weren’t white anymore, they were pink or light blue or peach, my Mom told me the color and had little bits of lace around the neck. I had seen my friend Cindy wearing shirts like them before I had to be a girl.

Shoes and socks were subtly different. My socks only came up to my ankle and had lacy tops to them, unlike my regular socks that came up my calves under my jeans. Oh that was another thing my new jeans were way shorter than my old ones, which allowed my socks to show with a little bit of skin above them too. My canvas shoes were very white and Mom admonished me that they were to stay that way. No playing in dirt, yeah right, I thought. I won’t get into the skirts and dresses I was expected to wear at some time during the month, but I eventually did wear them and learn the art of keeping my legs together so boys wouldn’t be able to see my panties. Did I forget to mention panties? Yep, I wasn’t allowed to wear my old underwear anymore. Now it was cotton panties, mostly white but a few were pastel colored, Mom told me that too. The time spent during the month was just to get us used to our new identities.

The people from the FBI explained that most of the feminine movements I would learn, I would learn from interaction with girls my age. If anyone asked, I was just a tomboy, but my parents were assured that as I became friends with girls I would become much like them while Grady would continue on the road he was already on. Things would be subtle but they said after three years of living as a girl with girls for friends, we would never recognize the boy who started this project. Yeah right, I thought.

The month was spent being our new selves and trying to remember to call each other by our new names. I still felt like a boy dressed in whatever other clothes I was wearing, but the FBI said that would change over time.

It took about two weeks before we stopped making mistake with our names. Dad and Mom were still Dad and Mom. They kept their real names, but we changed our last name to Crane. Grady had become Ted and I was Cindy. The only problem was Grady teasing me one day about looking like a girl but acting like a boy.

“The flowers on your butt are so cute,” he teased.

“Stop it Ted, it’s not funny,” I replied, sounding annoyed.

“How come your pants are so short?” he continued.

“Mom, Ted’s teasing me,” I yelled.

“Ted, stop that this instant. Cindy is doing this for all of us, so you didn’t have to become the girl. I think you owe your sister an apology.”

“Sorry,” he said, obviously not meaning a word he was saying.

“Just wait, Ted, someday you’ll need help from your sister and I’ll remember how you treated me. I don’t like this anymore than you do, but I said I’d do it, so please don’t be a jerk.”

“I’m sorry Cindy, really I am. It’s just that I miss my brother and, never mind, I just do.”

“I miss being a boy too, and I miss playing outside like we used to do. I hate being here. I hope things change when we finally move to Jackson.”

“I’m sure they will.”
 
 
 
Chapter Four
 
Two weeks later we were flown to Sacramento, California and met by the FBI agents that would be driving us to Jackson.

“Hello, I’m Agent Groves and this is Agent Martinez,” the man said.

Agent Groves was a man about six feet tall, had blonde hair turning grey, blue eyes a kind smile and was about twenty pounds over weight.

Agent Martinez was a pretty woman about five foot five, had a nice figure and looked to be about thirty years old. Her eyes were brown as was her hair and she had the whitest teeth I had ever seen when she smiled, which was a lot. I liked her a lot. I wondered if I’d be as pretty as her when I got older? What am I thinking, I’m a boy, forget that thought.

“Nice to meet you,” Dad said. “This is my wife Sharon, my son Ted and my daughter Cindy. I’m Steve Crane.”

“Obviously we’ve been expecting you and are here to drive you to Jackson. What do you know about Jackson?” he asked.

“Not much, and to be honest, I didn’t even bother looking for it on Google maps,” Dad replied.

“It’s in the Sierra foothills and is an old mining town from the California Gold rush. It’s grown over the last twenty or so years and I’m sure you’ll like the country feel of the town.”

“What about Baseball and Soccer,” Ted asked.

“They have sport programs just like any other city, so I’m sure they’ll have baseball and soccer,” Agent Martinez said.

“Do you play sports?” she asked, looking at me.

I guess she wasn’t aware that I wasn’t a girl so I answered the best I could.

“Yes, I love soccer and baseball. I was the only girl on the team where we lived and I made all-stars,” I said.

“Way to go girl, I played little league when I was your age and hit more home runs that the boys on the team,” she laughed. “It’s called girl power.”

“Hey, I’m as good as you,” Ted carped.

“Not.”

“Am too.”

“Uhh uhh.”

“Kids stop it right now,” Mom ordered.

Agent Martinez laughed at our discomfort for being admonished by Mom.

We walked to a black suburban and placed our luggage in the rear. I wondered how we would live with so few clothes but found out we would be provided for when we reached Jackson.

“It will take about an hour and a half before we reach your new home,” Agent Groves said, as we all got into the SUV. Ted and I sat in back, Mom and Dad in the middle seats and the two agents in front.

We wound our way out of the Airport and the agent drove toward Sacramento. Traffic was heavy and it took longer than expected before we finally left the strip malls and housing tracts on our route. Soon the occasional house turned into widely spread oak trees and brown grass.

“All this grass was green a few months ago, but it turns brown by the middle of May,” Groves said.

Ted and I just looked at the countryside. We passed through several small towns until we finally reached Jackson. It was cool as we drove down the hill into Jackson, seeing abandoned gold mines right next to the highway. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. I wondered if there were tales of gunfights and all the adventure involved with gold mining. My eight-year-old mind was racing with pictures of cowboys engaged in duels and bar fights right out of the movies. My thoughts and how I was dressed didn’t quite mesh. I was dressed like I had been for the past month, in a skirt and blouse with very white canvas shoes on my feet. I might not like it, but I looked like any other eight-year-old girl traveling to her new home. If I were a girl, my thoughts would have been of Barbie Dolls, not shoot em ups, but it’s one thing to change your appearance and another to change your brain.

The drive to our new home was interesting as we rolled by buildings built in the late eighteen hundreds. So this was the down town part of Jackson. Agent Martinez had pointed out the Safeway store before we drove down into Jackson and had mentioned that Wal-Mart and the Big K store were just down highway 88 a mile or so. We drove around for ten or so minutes before stopping in front of a house.

The house looked old, was painted white and had brown trim. It was built on a tall rock foundation that had been modernized inside but still kept the look of the old building. There were ten steps up to the front door. The front door was wood that I would find out later was oak and had a window in the middle made of clear leaded glass with bevels. It cast rainbows as light passed through the glass from an electric light inside the house. Knowing that we would be arriving, the air-conditioner had been turned on. Being just a month shy of summer, the outside temperatures were reaching one hundred degrees. This I learned was the normal for the Sierra foothills in the summer and early spring.

The cool air felt good as we closed the door. To our left was the sitting room with an opening that led to the dining room. The kitchen was to the right of the dining area making it easy to entertain.

“We just remodeled this place for you. You’ll find commercial quality appliances in the kitchen and the two baths have also been remodeled. After what we asked you people to do, it’s the least we could do for you,” Agent Martinez said.

“Wow, something this nice was on a wish list I knew I would never have. I’m feeling much better about all this,” Mom said, clearly relieved for the first time since the killing.

We continued into the house. The master bedroom was on the right and had been furnished with a king size bed. The furnishings were old looking, being good knock-offs of antiques. The master bath was connected to the rear of the bedroom. Ted and my bedrooms were in the rear of the house. Both were nice size with both of us having double beds. My room was decorated in a feminine motif and Ted’s with the familiar things I missed so much since becoming Cindy.

There were sparse amounts of clothing provided to carry us over until we had a chance to do some real shopping.

“This should hold you for a while,” Agent Martinez said, “But I’m sure you’ll want to add much more to this,” she added pointing at my quite empty closet.

I had plenty of girl’s clothes as far as I was concerned, but she obviously thought otherwise.

“I have a niece your age and if you’d like I can bring her by this weekend and you and your mother can come with us to buy out the Wal-Mart store.”

Mom brightened at that.

“I’d like that very much,” she said.

“Umm, I guess,” I answered uncomfortably.

“I’ll give you a call Mrs. Crane and let you know what time I’ll be by on Saturday.”

“Thank you Agent Martinez.”

“Goodness, we can’t shop together if we’re so formal, call me Sandra.”

“And you call me Sharon.”

“Mr. Crane, here are the keys for your car. It’s parked behind the house in the garage. It’s not fancy, just a 2009 Ford, but it will get you around until you find something else you’d rather drive,” Agent Groves said.

Dad took the keys from his hand and said, “Thank you.”

“We’re going to leave now, I left our cards on the kitchen table. If anything suspicious happens call us at once, but I doubt you’ll be in any danger. Enjoy the rest of your life,” Agent Groves said.

“I’m sure we will, thank you,” Dad replied.

The two agents walked to the Suburban, Agent Martinez turned and said, “See you Saturday,” with a smile.

The car started and the agents drove off. We were alone. For some reason I felt empty. The sun was beating down and the temperature was near one hundred. I think Mom and Dad felt the same way as I did, their empty eyes betrayed the confident front they were trying so hard to portray.

Ted and I went to our rooms and embraced the cool air from the air conditioner. Normally Ted and I would talk or play, but today I wanted to be alone. A cloud of despair enveloped me. Ted and I had lost all of our friends; we were living in a town we knew nothing about other than it was an old mining town. I hadn’t noticed any kids outside during our drive into town. It was two in the afternoon and I forgot that unlike us, other kids were still in school. Ted and I were tested while in Michigan passing the year-end tests and moved to the third grade the following year.

The hardest thing for me was the girl thing. It would be like being placed in the middle of nuclear test facility and expected to be a scientist. There was so much to learn and the hardest part was I had no idea of who I was supposed to be. Sure I knew my name and what kind of clothes to wear, but other than that my life had become a mystery. Who was Cindy Crane?

My worries were minor compared to what my parents were going through. My father was a project manager for a large construction company in Newark, New Jersey. They built those skyscraper buildings in New York City and in several other cities on the East Coast. Dad made good money and we never really wanted for anything, but then our wants weren’t extravagant. Now he had to figure out what to do for a job. There weren’t any big buildings in the area so I doubted he would be doing any project managing.

We still had enough money to last us for almost a year if we watched what we spent money on. It would help Dad to find what he would do.

I had let myself fall into a funk. I had only been here for two hours and I already hated Jackson. There was nothing to do, and I wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to take our chances with the bad guys. The least we would have had was excitement.

“Cindy, could I see you in the kitchen,” Mom yelled.

Cindy, God how I hated hearing that name. I was Marcus and wondered why I had been so stupid to volunteer to become the girl?

“I’ll be right there, Mom.”

I went to the kitchen and found Mom looking in the refrigerator.

“Let’s see what we have to cook with,” she said.

Why would I care what we had? Mom cooked and I ate, it was always that way.

“Why?”

“Because you’re a girl now. This is what girls do. Your father makes money for us to spend on clothes,” Mom giggled, “ We make dinner for him to keep him happy.”

Mom continued laughing. I can’t remember when she was giddy like this. I think it was before we witnessed the killing. After that it was like she had a black cloud over her head. Mom felt free for the first time in a year.

The pickings were scarce. It looked as though a single guy had stocked the fridge. There was bread, a package of sliced ham, American cheese, a jar of pickles, some peanut butter, a few tomatoes, and a head of lettuce. Mom shook her head but the smile never left her lips.

“Steve, we have to go shopping,” Mom stated.

“Already, can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“Only if you’d like to eat dinner.”

“Oh, I thought you meant for clothes.”

“Me? Perish the thought. How often do I go clothes shopping, never mind, and don’t answer that.”

“Kids, let’s go,” Dad said.

I thought of what Dad said. I missed his ‘boys, let’s go’. Now it was kids, one boy and one girl, gosh I hated all of this.

Dad grabbed the keys off the counter in the kitchen and went out the side door to the back yard. I followed as did Ted. The stairs were parallel to the side of the house. There are ten stairs with a cement pad at the bottom. The space between the house and fence to the right was easily ten feet, wide enough for a car.

We walked to the back yard and turned left toward the garage. The garage was doublewide with a roll up door. It was painted white with brown trim to match the house. Dad raised the door and was greeted by a 2009 Crown Victoria, obviously a retired police vehicle.

“Oh God, we have to go car shopping. We can’t be seen driving something like this,” Dad groaned.

“Oh, it’s not that bad, dear. We just have to make do until we get settled, and besides if everyone thinks you’re a cop they’ll leave us alone.”

Dad didn’t respond but got onto the car and started the engine. Letting it warm for a second, he backed it out of the garage. We all piled in the car.

“Take a look at that,” Dad said, pointing at the garage, “It’s the last time you’ll see it this empty.”

Dad was right; he started moving things into the garage the next day to join the washer and drier. I hoped it would stay cleaner than our old garage back home.

The driveway was gravel from the garage to the street. The rest of the rear yard was grass and four trees, an apple, a pear, a peach and an apricot. I didn’t count the lemon tree tucked between the garage and the house. All were past the blooming stage and fruit was growing on each. The apricots were starting to change color from green to orange. The fruit on the other trees were still growing and green. I wondered which one would be ripe next?

The tires crunched as we backed out to the street. Unlike New Jersey our driveway ran down to the street, but there wasn’t a sidewalk or the sloping ramp from our property to the street. The gravel ended and the paved street started, almost like living on a farm.

The trip to Safeway took ten minutes and only because Dad made a wrong turn. We spent the next hour in the store and did our part to keep the economy healthy. I didn’t think it was possible to spend that much money in a grocery store, but then again I didn’t think we would need two shopping carts either.

It was after four when we returned home. It took ten minutes for us to carry the groceries in the house. Ted and I carried one light bag each and Dad the heavier ones, like the potatoes and meat. Mom spent her time putting things away and was finished a half of an hour later.

We sat at the kitchen table and rested, drinking lemon-aide and cooling off from being outside. There was a knock at the door startling all of us.

“Now who is that?” Dad grumbled. He doesn’t handle heat well.

Dad walked to the front door and opened it. There were three ladies and a girl about my age standing there, holding a plate of cookies.

“Hello, welcome to the neighborhood,” a woman with very red hair said.

“Sharon, kids, come out here please,” Dad said.

Mom and the two of us walked into the entry-hall.

“Dear I think these ladies are here to see you,” Dad said.

“Won’t you come in?” Mom asked.

The three women entered and the girl shyly followed.

“Come into the living room. Steve bring the lemon-aide and some glasses.”

“That’s not necessary, we just came to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m Colleen O’Hara,” the woman with the red hair said. “This lovely lady is Maria Gomez, and this is Vera Mason. The little girl peeking from behind me is Shannon, my daughter. Maria and Vera’s boys are at baseball practice or they would be here too.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Mom gushed. “The handsome man who opened the door is my husband Steve, I’m Sharon Crane, and these are our children Ted and Cindy.”

“My, twins,” Maria exclaimed. ”They look so much alike.”

Maria was of Mexican decent, very pretty but several pounds overweight. She had brown eyes and hair with red highlights. She was around five feet tall and like the other women wore jeans. I was the only one in a skirt.

Vera was five foot five tall and obviously worked out a lot. Her figure was trim and seemed to fit her like a glove. Her hair was blonde and her eyes brown, so I think maybe her hair wasn’t always blonde.

Colleen had the red hair and deep blue eyes, her freckles dominated her face and she had an infectious smile. She stood about five three and was rail thin. I don’t think she ever stood still from the minute she entered the house until she sat down.

“Yes, so I’m told. They’re almost identical except for the obvious difference.”

“We saw you arrive this morning and saw you had a girl and well,” Colleen paused, “well, I told Shannon when she got home from school and she couldn’t wait to meet your daughter. She’s the only girl in the neighborhood and now she’ll have a friend to play with.”

“Cindy, why don’t you show Shannon your room,” Mom said.

“Yes Mom.”

I remembered what they taught me in Detroit and grabbed Shannon’s hand, “Come on,” pulling her to my room.

Now I must say, I wasn’t sure if I wanted a girlfriend but if I were to have friends, they most certainly would be girls. The one good side effect of having girls for friends I would learn how I was supposed to behave. Hanging with Ted surely wouldn’t teach me how to become a girl and Shannon would except she wouldn’t know she was doing it. I just wondered if I’d like hanging out with girls? Only time would tell.

Pulling Shannon into my room, I closed the door. My room looked like an ad from IKEA. My bed was plain as were the rest of the furnishings. I had a dressing table with a mirror and chair and a dresser of drawers. Shannon looked sad when she saw the room.

“What happened to your furniture? Where are your animals and dolls?”

Our cover story was simple, so I replied,” We lost everything in a fire just before we moved here.”

“Oh, God,” Shannon said, as her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll share some of mine with you. Every girl should have a Teddy Bear.”

“I have a Teddy, my brother,” and laughed.

Shannon giggled at my joke. Then she looked at my short hair. It had grown to about four inches since I stopped cutting it. I was jealous of Ted every time he had his hair cut to the short style I envied so much.

“What happened to your hair?” she asked.

“There was a girl in my class who had cancer and she lost all her hair because of the treatments she was receiving and felt ugly. All the girls in the class decided to cut off all our hair so she would feel better about herself.”

“Did it work?”

“Yes, it seemed to make her get better for a while, but she had to go to a hospital near San Francisco and is still there.”

This was another lie from Detroit but it explained my hair without question. I just felt bad about lying to Shannon. She really was a very nice girl.

“How old are you?” she asked.

“I just turned eight.”

“Cool, I’ll be eight next month. Do you play sports?”

”Yes, soccer and baseball.”

“You play baseball?”

“Yes, of course. I started with my brother and I’m better than he is. We both made all-stars back home.”

“I play soccer. You should sign up. Maybe we could be on the same team.”

“I’d like that.”

“Are you going to start school soon?”

“Next year. I’ll be in third grade.”

“So will I. We can walk to school together.”

“You walk to school?”

“Of course. How else would we get there?”

“I don’t know, maybe on a bus or something?”

“School’s not that far. Now I’ll have someone to walk with beside the boys.”

“How many boys are around here?”

“Let’s see, there’s Quince, he’s nice and Juan, he’s nice most of the time but sometimes he’s a jerk, and John, he lives down the block so four of us walk together.”

“Ted will like that. We had lots of friends where we used to live.”

“Cindy,” Mom yelled, “Shannon’s mom has to go.”

“Okay Mom. I had fun,” I said looking at Shannon, “I’ll see if I can sign up for soccer.”

“Okay.”

Shannon grabbed my hand as we walked from my room. I guess we were officially friends.

“Mom, can Cindy come to our house? She lost all her things in a fire and doesn’t have a bear. I want to give her one of mine,” Shannon said.

“If it’s alright with Sharon,” Colleen answered.

“She can go if it’s not an imposition?” Mom asked.

“God no, I think Cindy will be spending her time at our house or yours. It appears Shannon has made a new friend.”

“What about me?” Ted asked.

“Do you want to hang out with girls?” Mom asked.

“No.”

“Don’t worry Ted, Juan will be home soon and as soon as he is, I’ll bring him by to meet you,” Maria said.

“Okay.”

Shannon hadn’t let go of my hand and dragged me out the front door, down the stairs across the street and down to the house next to the one across from ours. It was painted a beige color and trimmed with brown. It wasn’t as far off the ground as ours and looked much newer. Shannon opened the unlocked door and entered, pulling me straight to her room.

Her room was the opposite of mine. It had personality. There were stuffed animals placed against the pillows looking like a cheering section at a soccer game. There were bears and dogs and cats and more bears. Shannon must have had twenty animals on her bed. The bedspread was a light pink color with darker pink trim. Her bed was painted white and adorned with flowers everywhere. On her shelves were My Little Ponies and a Barbie’s collection, it was truly a girl’s room. I couldn’t help but wonder if my room would look like this in the future?

“You can have any animal you would like, except for Benny.”

”Who’s Benny?”

“My favorite bear, the one in the center, the light brown one.”

I saw the bear she meant. It was worn and looked loved. I looked at the animals and decided on a darker colored bear near the edge.

“Is this one okay?” I asked.

“That’s Marvin, yes you can have him. He’s very soft, I think you’ll like him.”

I picked up the bear and felt the softness she mentioned, there was a faint aroma of perfume. I couldn’t help hugging it to my chest.

“I like him,” I said softly.

Marvin comforted me. I hadn’t realized how much my life had changed in the last year. Our family had moved twice in the last month, we had to testify against a murderer in a trial and the Russian Mafia was hunting us. We had lost all of our friends, but on the other hand I just met Shannon and she gave me a bear. Maybe this whole thing will turn out okay?

Shannon and I talked and spent the rest of the afternoon just being together. It was a nice time, and very different from what I was used to when I wasn’t a girl. We weren’t destructive and didn’t have to do anything to impress each other. We just spent time together. I liked being with Shannon very much.

“I’d better go home,” I said when I smelled Colleen cooking dinner. “My mom will wonder where I’ve gone for so long.”

“Can I come by tomorrow after school?” Shannon asked.

“Yes,” I answered excitedly.

Shannon gave me a hug and then I ran home. It was still hot but I hardly noticed the heat. I had a new friend.

I entered the house and saw Ted playing with a boy.

“Hey Cindy, this is Juan. Juan, this is my sister Cindy,” Ted said.

“Hi Cindy, playing with Shannon?” Juan asked.

“Yes,” I answered, hugging Marvin to my chest.

“Where’d you get the bear?” Ted asked.

“Shannon gave him to me.”

“Cool.”

“I’m glad you moved in here, now Shannon won’t be hanging out with the boys anymore.”

“What’s wrong with Shannon hanging out with boys?” I asked.

“Nothing except when she wanted to play with her dolls. No way was I going to do that.”

“Didn’t she play your games?”

“Yeah, and she was fun, but she didn’t want to do what we wanted all the time so she looked sad when we wouldn’t play with her dolls.”

“Oh.”

I continued through the kitchen where Mom was cooking dinner.

“Look what Shannon gave me,” I said, holding Marvin out for her to see.

“A bear, he’s cute, what’s his name?”

“Marvin.”

“Did you name him?”

“No, Shannon did.”

“Well, Marvin is a very nice name. It looks like you and Shannon are going to be friends.”

“I think so. She’s really nice, and she plays soccer. Maybe we can be on the same team.”

“Maybe sweetheart.”

I went to my room and placed Marvin on my bed like I had seen Shannon do with her animals. Just adding my bear seemed to make the room seem more like mine.
 
 
 
Chapter Five
 
Shannon came by everyday after school and we became the very best of friends. Little by little, I began to learn what being a girl was supposed to be. I guess I came across as being somewhat of a tomboy and most things I did weren’t very feminine. Little things like the way I talked or walked even sitting down was definitely like a boy. But the more I was around Shannon, Mom noticed a change in the way I did things. I sat differently, legs together and my walk wasn’t as exaggerated, even my speech was becoming more melodious. I think the best way to see the changes was to have Ted and I walk side by side, or speak together. There was a definite femininity about the way I was doing things. It wasn’t exaggerated, but it was there.

During this time, Dad signed us up for soccer, Ted in the under nine boys and me in the under nine girls. Since we were new to the area, Ted and I had to do a try out to see what our skill levels were. Mine were a bit better than Ted’s and I was going to say something to him about it, I usually did, but for some reason I didn’t want to rub salt in his wounds. Before I became the girl in the family, bragging was a way of showing just how macho little boys were. Now I didn’t feel macho, but felt good beating my brother, a feeling I didn’t want to share. Ted on the other hand moped all the way home.

“Man, did you have to beat me?”

“I didn’t beat anyone, I just tried as hard as I could. What’s the problem anyway?”

“The problem is being beat by a girl. I’ll never live it down.”

“You do know I’m still really a boy?” I asked.

“You used to be a boy. You’re a girl now.”

“I’m sure you didn’t notice, but that girl Stacy was better than me. It’s not like it’s the end of the world.”

“But you’re a girl and another girl beat you. I’m a boy and I’m supposed to be better than you.”

I felt anger welling up inside of me. What’s wrong with a girl being better than a boy?

“That’s stupid Ted and you know it. You should feel proud that I’m your sister and am good at soccer. We won’t even be on the same team.”

“I know, but, never mind,” he said, sulking the rest of the way home.

Mom and Dad just laughed. They knew this would eventually happen between us, but decided not to interfere, but rather have us work this thing out together.

When we reached home, I went to my room to remove my soccer gear. Ted followed me into my room.

“I’m sorry sis, I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“I know, but sometimes you’re going to get beat by a girl. You’re my brother and I thought you would have been happy for me.”

“I was, but you know how guys are? I won’t ever be that way with you again, we’re family. I love you Cindy.”

I turned from my brother, as I didn’t want him to see the tears in my eyes. I picked Marvin from my bed and hugged him tight. Next to Ted, he was my best friend in the world.

Summer vacation passed quickly. Shannon and I spent almost every minute together. I learned that she wasn’t the girly-girl I expected, but almost as much of a tomboy as me. She liked to climb trees and play in the creeks that flowed through town. We did girly things when we were alone, but spent a lot of time with Ted and Juan. Juan had another friend from the neighborhood named John. He lived two houses down from Juan and they had been friends ever since birth. Another boy lived around the corner from John named Quince, but everyone called him by his nickname, Stick. No one knows how he got that name because he was one of those kids that ate all the time and it showed. All Ted’s new friends were nice, but loved to tease Shannon and me, but being two against four made us easy targets.

One afternoon we were playing football, you know the American kind with Shannon, Stick and me on the same team. We thought it was unfair, but Juan said that’s the way it is. It was a friendly game of touch but things got out of control when our team scored two more touchdowns than theirs. Shannon was the fastest runner of all and Juan resented it. He had played with her before and she always ran away from him, but now in front of Ted the new boy and his sister he couldn’t let it continue.

We were playing our game in John’s back yard. The yard was planted in grass and the yard was the largest on the block. Anyway, Juan got the ball and decided to run directly at Shannon. On every other play, we would move left or right to avoid being touched with two hands. On this play Juan didn’t care about being tagged, he just wanted to hurt Shannon. Well, Shannon wanted nothing to do with what Juan thought would happen, so she lowered her shoulder and plowed into the advancing Juan. I was surprised to see Juan go flying to the ground and I know he was even more surprised than me.

“What was that?” Shannon yelled.

“What?” Juan asked innocently.

“You know what. Why did you try to hurt me?”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re a liar Juan. Come on Cindy, I’ve had enough of this,” she said, in a huff.

“I’ll see you at home,” I said looking at Ted.

I followed Shannon to her house. We both had grass stains on our bare knees where we had fallen during the course of the game. We went to Shannon’s room and I could tell she was still angry as her cheeks flushed with red.

“Did you see what Juan did? He tried to hurt me,” she said, as tears filled her eyes.

“Why did he do that?” I asked.

“I don’t know. We’ve always been good friends. He’s never acted this way before,” she said, as a tear slid down her cheek.

“I don’t think what he had in mind worked very well. He was the one who ended up on the ground,” I giggled.

“He should have known better. He knows I’m stronger than he is.”

“He knew you were stronger?”

“Yes. We were on opposite soccer teams and I ran into him and he ended up crying because a girl had knocked him down.”

“So much for girls being weak,” I laughed.

“You’ve got that right,” she said, and we slapped hands just like the boys.

Soccer teams were selected during July and I ended up on the same team as Shannon. At the age group we were in, we played seven on seven. The reason was to be able to let more teammates have more touches on the ball. Each team would have a minimum of nine players per team. The two or three players left over were assigned to one or another of the teams, which meant three teams had ten players. Luckily we had nine.

The rules state that every player must play at least half of the game, even ones that didn’t want to be there. We had two players whose parents were making them play soccer. One was Brittany, a short very pretty girly girl, and the other Lori who was very overweight. She wanted nothing more than to stay home with her Playstation. So, the girls on our team were Shannon, Brittany, Lori, Tiffany, Alexis, Patricia, Tara, Mattie, and me.

Our first practice was August first. We weren’t allowed to practice before that. Shannon’s father was our coach.

I already knew Mr. O’Hara, and so did half of the girls on our team. The only ones that didn’t were Brittany, Lori, and Alexis. We went through introductions and since I was the new person, no one other than Shannon knew me. I was greeted with a hug from each of the players before practice actually started. Tiffany was the tallest girl on the team and she was four inches taller than me. Next was Alexis who was black and the best defender on the team. Shannon and I were the same height and she was the fastest runner on the team. Patricia, Tara and Mattie were an inch or two shorter than me, but were good players. Brittany was the shortest and like I mentioned, didn’t want to be here. Lori was the same height as Shannon and I but couldn’t run as fast as the other girls on the team because of her weight and lack of exercise.

Coach started with warm-ups and stretches. Next came ball control skills. Shannon was the best on the team, followed by Alexis, then me. After that we had a short scrimmage. This was the way practice continued through the season. When the season began Shannon and Alexis were forward, I was midfield with Brittany, Tara and Mattie were defenders with Tiffany in goal.

The way AYSO soccer is played, there are four quarters in a game. The minimum playing time for each player is two quarters so the kids all get playing time. Coach O’Hara was very fair about the playing time and would pull some of the stronger players for weaker ones, including his own daughter. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Shannon in the whole game and only sub the weaker players. Coach was a very nice man. As the season progressed, even Brittany started to like playing and like the camaraderie of the team. She even scored a goal in the next to the last game and you’d have thought she won a prize. We all hugged her and I thought I saw a tear in her eye she was so happy. Our team was called the Pink Thunder.

Shannon, Alexis and I made the all-stars select team. That meant we would be playing until March and maybe beyond. I hoped it wouldn’t interfere with baseball.

Shannon, Alexis and I became a threesome, as school started. Alexis was really smart and carried straight A’s, as did Shannon. I got one A minus but my grades were better than when I was living in New Jersey. I’m not sure if it had anything to do with being a girl, but I noticed my two best friends were very serious about school. Maybe hanging with them was a good thing.

Ted on the other hand got B’s and C’s. Where I would study, he would be off playing with his friends and it showed in his grades.

“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” Mom asked after our first report cards were sent home.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

‘Your grades, there’s no excuse for these grades. She has almost straight A’s and look at yours - B’s and C’s. You’re twins so you can’t use any excuse other than you’re lazy.”

“I’m not lazy.”

“Then you’re spending too much time playing and not enough studying. I want to see your homework every day. I won’t have my children failing in school.”

“Mom, I’m not failing.”

“You are until you bring your grades up to your sister’s.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and ran to my room.

As the school year progressed, I noticed I was changing the way I did things. It was little things that I doubt had anything to do with being a girl. The differences between Ted and I had grown to be noticeable, like the way I talked and little things like walking or sitting, all of which have become feminine. One major difference though is the way I am around the house. I cleaned and put things away in my room, so let me explain.

It all started with the first day I met Shannon. As I mentioned, her room was very girly and everything was in its place. At the time, I assumed her mother kept her room perfect, making the bed, picking up her clothes and making sure her animals were all in their place on her bed. I found out how wrong I was.

It was about three months after we had moved into our home that Shannon was over playing in my room. We were playing a card game called Fish and sitting on my bed. As usual it wasn’t made, but my mother hadn’t had time as she had gone shopping for groceries.

“Your room’s a mess,” Shannon said.

“My mom hasn’t had time to make my bed yet,” I replied.

“You don’t make your own bed?” she accused.

“No, I don’t know how.”

“If I didn’t take care of my room, my mother would kill me.”

“Mom always does our rooms for us. Who does your room?”

Ted and I have never picked anything up in our lives.

“I do.”

“Everything, even your animals?”

“Of course everything. It’s my bedroom and it’s my responsibility.”

I felt ashamed. My best friend took care of her own room and I expected my mother to do the same for me. My room would be mine after this day and it would be mine to take care of.

“Would you show me how to make my bed?” I asked.

“Yes,” Shannon shrieked. “This will be so much fun.”

My idea of fun wasn’t making a bed, but Shannon was taking the time to show me how to take responsibility for myself. I didn’t think it was a girl thing but something I should do for my mother and just because I was a girl for the next three years I might as well take that step.

Shannon pulled the covers off the bed.

“First make sure the bottom sheet is flat and has no wrinkles.”

She pulled here and there and asked me to do the same. It took all of ten seconds and the sheet was flat.

‘See, that wasn’t so hard. Now the top sheet, watch.”

Shannon placed the sheet on the bed and pulled it until it was where she wanted it.

“Leave enough to turn back over the blankets,” she said, the tucked the end in at the foot of the bed.

“Now put the blankets on the same way except leave the blankets short of the end of the sheet.”

I did as instructed, correcting things as Shannon brought them to my attention.

“Now turn the sheet over the top of the blankets and tuck them in all the way around the bed. Everything should be tight.”

I tucked the blankets in like Shannon asked and she hugged me when I finished.

“See how nice it looks and it didn’t take that long to do. Now take the bedspread and place it on the bed but don’t tuck it in. It should be the same length all the way around the bed.”

I put the spread on and made sure it was even.

“Now the pillows.” Shannon placed the pillows on the bed and picked up Marvin and leaned him against the pillows.

“See, doesn’t that look a lot better?”

It did look nice. Shannon had done a better job than my mother, which made me wonder if she might just be a little bit compulsive?

“Do you have a hamper?”

“Yes.”

“Good, let’s finish your room and then we can play cards.”

Shannon and I picked up the clothes I had thrown near my closet door when I changed clothes. Being a slob had become a ritual when Ted and I shared the same bedroom and Shannon wasn’t going to put up with it.

“Now, this looks more like a girl’s room. Let your brother be a slob. Now all we have to do is talk your mom and dad into letting us decorate your room,” she laughed.

Shannon might have been as much of a tomboy as me, but she, unknown to her, was teaching me to become a girl. At one minute we would be playing football with the boys and the next with her Barbie dolls. I loved her to pieces.
 
 
 
Chapter Six
 
It was time for school to start and the day before Shannon was a ball of energy trying to decide what to wear to school.

“What are you going to wear?” she asked.

“I don’t know, whatever my Mom makes me,” I replied.

“I think we should wear dresses.”

“Do you think my mom will let me?”

“Are you kidding, if I don’t my mother will be mad at me for a week. Help me pick one.”

Shannon and I spent the next hour picking a dress for her to wear to school. I knew I wouldn’t have that problem because my selection of dresses was limited as my mom hadn’t filled my wardrobe with clothes yet, and Dad wasn’t making the money he had in New Jersey, so we kind of watched what we spent.

“Shannon, I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Be early, like seven-thirty so we can walk with the boys,” she ordered.

“Okay.”

I returned home to find my mother preparing dinner.

“Hi honey,” she said when I walked into the kitchen.

“Hi Mom.”

“Did you have a nice time at Shannon’s?”

“Yes, we were picking put a dress for her to wear to school.”

“Good, I was going to talk to you about that. I was thinking it would be best if you wore one too on your first day at school. If you do, there will be no mistake about you being a girl.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t worn a dress all summer except a few times when we went to church.”

“You’ll be fine. Let me wash my hands and we’ll pick one out for you to wear tomorrow.”

Mom finished wiping her hands and led me to my room. I didn’t have a large selection of clothes but there were more than I thought. Mom laid three dresses on the bed for me to choose from. All were sundresses. I liked the yellow one best.

“I like the yellow one, Mom.”

“I do too. Now let’s figure out what to wear with it.”

“Can’t I wear my shoes I have on?”

“Goodness no. When a girl dresses everything must go together, co-ordinate so to speak. You have to have the right shoes and sox. Your purse has to match. You’re not a boy anymore, but you’ll learn. Here take these sox and your Mary Jane shoes and try them on with your dress. I want to be sure everything fits properly.”

I did as Mom asked and looked in the mirror, yep I was a girl. I just hoped Shannon looked as girly as I did when school started. I walked into the living room and Mom smiled slightly and I swear she had a tear in her eye.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

Just what I wanted to hear, but on the other hand it’s better than being ugly. I miss being a boy.

Ted ran through the door and stopped when he saw me. I thought his eyes would bug out. I smiled shyly at him. What he did next crushed my spirit. He laughed and it wasn’t one of those fun laughs, but it was mean spirited.

“Hahaha, you look so pretty,” Ted mocked.

“That’s not funny Ted,” I replied.

“Yes it is.”

I felt my anger boiling to the surface as I balled my fists. I moved to beat the living daylights out of him.

“Stop this instant,” Mom yelled.

“But Mom, Ted’s making fun of me,” I said, and then the stupidest thing happened, tears filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks.

“See what you’ve done?” Mom said to Ted, with a raised voice.

“But Mom, I was just kidding,” he whined.

“You don’t tease a girl about her looks Ted, especially your sister, now say your sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Ted groveled.

I didn’t reply as I tried to gather my thoughts. Why had I cried? If Ted was in my place and I was in his, I’m sure I would have done the same thing. I knew I wasn’t a girl but yet I was trying so hard to be one that his remark broke my heart. I wonder how Shannon would have handled the same situation.

“Cindy, your brother apologized to you,” Mom said sternly.

“Okay,” I whimpered.

Mom woke me up earlier than Ted. She wanted to work on my hair before I went to school. It had grown a bit over the summer and she had more to work with. Ted however was able to retain his crew cut, which I jealously admired.

Mom finished my hair and put a layer of clear lip-gloss in my lips.

“Just like a big girl,” she laughed.

I didn’t like the taste and kept licking my mouth.

“Stop that Cindy, you’ll rub it off,” Mom admonished.

“But it tastes funny.”

“You’ll get used to it, now let me fix it.”

Mom applied another layer before lowering my dress over my head. My shoes and sox came next. After fluffing my hair, she looked pleased and I noticed her eyes were wet.

“You’re so pretty,” she said.

I blushed before I said, “Thanks Mom.”

Ted and I ate breakfast and finished just before Shannon knocked on the front door to our house. Mom opened it and let her in.

“My Shannon, you look pretty this morning,” Mom gushed.

“Thanks Mrs. Crane. Are you ready Cindy, the boys are outside, and I like your dress,” Shannon said.

“Thanks, I like what you’re wearing too.”

Shannon was wearing a just above the knees denim skirt and a white blouse with ruffles down the center. She looked as girly as me.

So it was the six of us walking to school for the first time, but certainly not the last. Four boys and two girls. I couldn’t help giggling to myself thinking that Shannon and I were probably tougher than any of the boys including my brother.

The walk took about half of an hour and we reached school five minutes before the bell rang for us to go to class.

Shannon, Ted and I were in the same class, with Juan, John, and Stick in the other third grade class. Alexis was in our class, so the three of us became the musketeers.

We studied together and played soccer together. It was like we were joined at the hip.

Most of the students had been attending this school ever since kindergarten, so when someone new entered their school like Ted and I, we became curiosities. Where are you from, how old are you, why do you look like each other, so Ted and I answered the questions until the student tired of the sport and we became students just like them. Unfortunately, we had to answer the same questions in front of our new classroom and students. I guess it came with the territory.

“Good morning Third Grade, I’m your teacher, Mrs. Macmillan.”

“Good Morning Mrs. Macmillan,” we said in unison.

There were twenty-eight kids in our class, seventeen girls and eleven boys. We learned that this was the advanced class and the other third grade was for students who had difficulty with their studies.

Mrs. Macmillan called roll and had us stand so we would know who was attached to the name. Most of the other students knew each other so Ted and I were oddities.

“Class I’m sure you noticed Ted and Cindy are twins. Do any of you know how many kind of twins there are?”

No one answered.

“Can you tell us Cindy?”

“Two,” I answered.

“And what are they?”

“Identical and fraternal.”

“That’s right, identical and fraternal. Identical twins are just as they sound, they’re identical. Fraternal twins aren’t the same, even though they look alike, much as Ted and Cindy do, except Cindy is a girl and Ted is a boy, so they are fraternal twins. Would you like to tell the class where you came from, Ted?”

“Detroit.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that Ted had remembered our cover and not said New Jersey. If he had things could have gotten bad for us.

“When did you move here?”

“At the beginning of summer.”

“What can you tell us about Detroit?”

“I don’t know. It’s like a city.”

“Did you like it there?”

“I like it better here.”

“What about you Cindy, do you like it here too?”

“Yes Mrs. Macmillan.”

“What do you like to do when you aren’t in school?”

“Play with Shannon and Alexis.”

“And what do you girls do together?”

“Play with Barbies and practice soccer.”

“Do you like soccer?”

“Yes Mrs. Macmillan.”

“Welcome to our school Ted and Cindy.”

That was it; we were now part of the new school.

Our lives fell into the normalcy we had left in New Jersey. Ted had his friends and I had mine. I was slowly growing into my role as a girl. I missed being a boy, but I had grown to like being with Shannon and having the freedom to play any games we wished. As a girl I could play with dolls and not be laughed at, as it was expected and yet if we wanted to play football, that was okay too. If Ted were to play with dolls, he would have never heard the end of it from his friends.

When I first played with dolls, it made me very uncomfortable. There was a certain taboo concerning boys and dolls, but as I fell deeper into my deception I grew to like the games we drew from our fantasies. I was considered a tomboy by most of my fellow students, as was Shannon. Alexis was considered a girly-girl but she was just as tough as us on the soccer pitch. At school she always wore dresses or skirts where as Shannon and I wore jeans and a blouse. Being eight it really didn’t matter whereas we were just kids.

At this age, there really wasn’t much difference between boys and girls. As girls our hair was longer and I did miss not having the crew cut Ted sported, but other than that, Shannon and I were just like one of the guys except when we played girl games. There was a certain freedom with that. One thing I did appreciate was the closeness girls had. I noticed the boys would hang out together and talk about football or some game they could play, but never about himself or herself. Shannon and I on the other hand would spend hours talking about ourselves and the dreams of becoming a princess or some other unattainable goal, but it was we, the person. It was a small thing but one that was slowly shaping who I was going to become.

Soccer season ended and even though we were on the all-star team, at our age the honor was just that, an honor. Next year we would play well into the winter on a traveling team, at eight we only played seven on seven and score wasn’t kept, yeah right.

Shannon came to my house after school in November and asked me if I wanted to play basketball at the local church with her.

“Cindy, they’re having sign-ups for basketball and this is the first year we’re old enough to play. My Mom and Dad said they would let me play. Do you want to be on my team?”

“I’ve never played basketball before,” I replied. I didn’t want to tell her about playing in New Jersey so I lied once again to my best friend.

“Me neither. Come on, it will be fun.”

“Okay, I’ll ask my parents.”

I asked that night and mom said yes, which made Ted want to do the same. He would ask his friends if they would play too.

The next day Mom, Shannon, Ted, Shannon’s mom, and I went to the Catholic Church where the league took place. Because of the low turnout we were informed that we might have co-ed teams. The coaches explained that at this age girls were as good as the boys and in some cases better players. He mentioned that the boys tended to try to impress each other by showing off whereas the girls were focused on the game and reveled in the camaraderie rather than showing each other up.

Two weeks later, we were informed there were enough kids to form two teams. Shannon and I were on the same team, all girls, yahoo. Ted was on an all boys’ team of which there were four. Because of the low turnout, we would be playing games in cities away from Jackson. Placerville and Lodi were mentioned.

My team had six players and the other girl’s team had seven. I knew all the girls because we all attended the same school, with the exception of Carolyn. She went to the Catholic school in Sutter Creek.

Practice started after Thanksgiving and it was an accomplishment just to reach the basket during the first practice. Most of us had never played basketball before and it showed. I had, but I still was just as bad as the other girls on my team. We spent more time giggling than shooting baskets. Our coach, Miss Hollings, was very patient with us. She had won a scholarship to Michigan ten years before returning home to Jackson. Shannon’s mom said she was the top athlete at the high school and her records still hadn’t been broken. She was the tallest girl I had ever seen and I loved her long blonde hair.

We practiced for a month before the season began. By that time we had the fundamentals of dribbling the ball and shooting, but weren’t very good at it. The other team wasn’t much better and as mom said, this is a learning experience.

The season started with an away game in Lodi, and we lost. The girls all seemed to be much better players than us. We later found out this wasn’t their first year playing basketball so we didn’t feel too bad after all.

The second game was at home and we did a little better. We played a game against a team from Placerville and we lost by only two points, which doesn’t sound like much, but the high score was ten. Miss Hollings was very pleased with our development and Mom provided the snacks. Yeah, snacks are the best part of the game.

The third game we won, but the team we played from Angel’s Camp wasn’t very good. We had become a team, which gained us hugs from Miss Hollings.

“Girls I couldn’t be more proud of you. I must say this is the best team I ever coached,” she said. “I’ll see you at practice Tuesday. Now get your snacks.”

We all squealed with joy and ran off to join or parents and get our treasured snack.

The games continued into February and we won almost half of the games. We became a much better team than the one that started the season.

As the season progressed I noticed changes in me. The unsure tomboy who started the season was becoming girlier as the season progressed. There was no more shame hugging or squealing as one of my teammates made a basket or did something that warranted excitement. I was becoming the girl I was portraying and I liked the person I was becoming.

Ted and I talked most every night about his friends and I did about mine. We were still at the age where boys and girls were pretty much the same with the exception of one or the other having cooties. Tonight our conversation would be different.

“Do you really like being a girl?” Ted asked, out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you like being a girl? Do you miss being Marcus?”

I sat for a moment before I answered his question.

“Yes, I do like being a girl. I love my friends and being a girl isn’t much different than being a boy, except for the clothes. I do miss being Marcus and having hair like yours, but I like it when Mom brushes my hair for me.”

As my hair has started to grow, Mom has made a ritual of brushing my hair at night. Although it’s still short, it’s long enough for her to brush. It’s during this time we talk. Mom and I had never talked like we do now, when I was Marcus. She tells me about when she was young and her mother brushed her hair like she was doing with me. We talk about my feelings of what was happening to me, my friends and just about being a girl. It’s a special part of every day.

“Man, I wouldn’t want to be a girl just so I could have my hair brushed,” Ted responded.

“That’s not why I’m being a girl, and you know it. Spending time with Mom makes being one easier and I think my friends are nicer than yours too.”

“My friends are nice and we have lots of fun together.”

“I’m sure you do, but it’s not like Shannon and Alexis. We play the same sports you do, but we talk too. I bet you never ask your friends what you should wear to school?”

“Why would I do that? All we ever wear are jeans and a shirt.”

“See. Shannon lets me know if she’s going to wear pants or a skirt, and what kind of blouse or sweater so we can co-ordinate with each other.”

“That sounds stupid. Being a girl is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” I yelled a bit too loud.

Mom had been walking by Ted’s room with clean laundry toward my room.

“What’s stupid?” she asked.

“Ted said being a girl is stupid.”

“Ted, did you say that?”

“Yes Mom.”

“Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because it is. Marcus was fun, but Cindy is different. All she does is hang out with her girlfriends. Marcus and I did everything together, but now she just does girl things,” he said, and a tear ran down his cheek.

“It sounds to me that you miss Marcus rather than girls being stupid. I’m sure Cindy misses the time you and Marcus spent together too. I’m sure if she had her choice she would still be Marcus, but that’s not possible. Don’t forget baseball season starts next month and your sister will be playing ball just like when Marcus was here. You two will be on the same team, wearing the same uniform and swinging the same bat.”

“It will be just like it always was,” I said.

Ted smiled and said, “Yeah I guess.”

“Give your sister a hug and I don’t want to hear about how stupid being a girl is again.”

Ted and I put our arms around each other and pulled us into a brotherly hug.

“I miss you bro,” he said before breaking our embrace.

Basketball season ended and baseball was going to start in several weeks. Sign up was going to close in one week and I wanted Shannon and Alexis to play with me. During lunch at school I asked them to join the league with me.

This was a day when we decided to wear skirts and both Shannon and I were admonished for not keeping our legs together. Alexis always kept her legs together, so she would laugh every time the monitor would warn us.

“Shannon, Cindy, legs.”

“Yes Miss Wilson,” we would respond and move our knees together.

“Shannon, Alexis, did you sign up for baseball yet?” I asked.

“My dad say’s I don’t have time for baseball,” Alexis said.

“Why?” I asked.

“I have dance classes almost every day after school.”

“What about you Shannon? You don’t have dance classes.”

“I don’t know how to play baseball.”

“It’s easy. All you have to do is hit the ball.”

“I can’t. I tried, but just couldn’t do it.”

“I’ll help you,” I said.

“I don’t want to. I’ll come and watch you play, okay?”

“Okay.”

We spent the next two weeks just being girls. We jumped rope and played with dolls, tried on our clothes and played with each other’s hair. It was times like this that began to change the person I was.

When we first moved to Jackson, most people we met thought Ted and I were brothers, which we were, except I was wearing girls jeans and a blouse.

“Are your boys twins?” they would ask.

“Yes, except Cindy is a girl,” Mom would respond.

They would apologize and walk away saying I looked too much like a boy.

As time passed the comments changed and so had I. The changes in me were like building a stalagmite, one drip at a time. Drip, drip, just one molecule of lime at a time until one day there was a shaft of stone standing on a cave floor. It was the same with me, just a little bit of femininity at a time. Walking with Shannon and walking like a girl came slowly, but the changes came. So did the movements of my hands and the way I used them to express what I was saying. The slight inflections in my voice toward feminine had become as natural as my walk.

“Twins, they look so much alike. Your daughter is going to so pretty when she gets older,” mothers would gush.

“Thank you,” Mom would beam.

It had been ten months since we started this adventure and as crazy as it sounds, I was proud of whom I had become. True, I missed being Marcus but I truly like being Cindy.

I think the moment I realized I liked being a girl occurred on Easter Sunday. Mom had taken me to be fitted for a dress for church. We had to go all the way to Sacramento to find the exact dress Mom wanted me to wear. I had tried on dresses from Jackson to Stockton but none met Mom’s standards. She found a boutique on line and liked what they had to offer. The dress was white and was full with petticoats and lace everywhere. I was measured from top to bottom and the owner said she would have the dress shipped UPS and not to worry it would fit. While we were there Mom picked out white panty hose and white Mary Jane shoes to complete the outfit. I felt like a princess as I was measured and was made the center of attention. I loved the closeness Mom and I shared with the experience. The owner said she would ship the dress in one week and if anything had to be changed we could run back down to the store and she would take care of it while we waited.

The dress arrived the Monday before Easter and true to the storekeeper’s word, it fit like a glove. Mom wouldn’t let me wear the shoes and hose with it, as she wanted me to be surprised when Easter came.

The Saturday before Easter Mom made an appointment for me to have my hair done. It was finally long enough to have a selection of styles to choose from.

My hair was washed and styled, whereas Mom had the works.

“When you get older you can have everything done too, but for now your hair is enough,” she said.

Sunday morning Mom woke me early just to get ready. She had me shower and then dressed me. It didn’t take that long to dress, but everything had to be just so. Mom gave me new panties and a short slip to wear. On went the white panty hose and the dress. She then fastened my shoes carefully to my feet. She then brushed out my hair to look as if I had just come from the salon.

“I bought this to surprise you,” Mom said, handing me a pink bag.

I opened it and found white gloves to complete the outfit. Putting them on I looked at myself in the mirror, I was beautiful. A smile lit my face, knowing this was so wrong, but I felt so right at this moment. I turned back and forth and felt the petticoats rustling against my legs. I truly felt like a real girl.

Dad and Ted were waiting in the living room for Mom and me. You could see the shock on their faces when they saw me.

“Cindy, you’re beautiful,” Dad complimented.

“Damn, you look like a real girl,” Ted said.

Did I mention Ted had started to swear as of late as had his friends? Mom and Dad weren’t pleased.

“Ted, watch your mouth. You know we don’t like it when you swear. I think maybe we had better think of something to do to break you of that habit,” Mom said.

I blushed at the compliment and giggled at Ted’s predicament.

“Thank your brother Cindy.”

“Thanks Ted.”

Dad drove us to church arriving fifteen minutes before the service started. I think Mom had planned it that way so her daughter would be the center of attention. We had been attending this church since we arrived in Jackson and Mom and Dad were very involved with the various clubs. We had become well known because of that. Obviously Ted and I were known as the twins and as good athletes. Ted was a boy and dressed in his suit looked like a little man. I on the other hand was the center of attention. One of the main reasons though wasn’t because of how girly and feminine I looked, but everyone knew me as Cindy, the tomboy. I rarely wore skirts and was just as rough and tumble as the boys, as was Shannon my best friend. Parents would comment that I should have been born a boy, little did they know.

Today was different though.

“You would have never guessed a princess was just beneath those dirt smudges.”

“Truly a swan has made her appearance.”

Mom was beaming every minute her daughter received a compliment.

As the morning wore on, I too changed the way I thought of myself. I felt pretty and I liked it. Before this day, I had always thought of myself as Marcus, the boy pretending to be a girl. I did all the girl things with Shannon but she was as much a tomboy as me so I really never became a girly girl. Today was different. I felt as though I was Cindy Crane. I reveled in the attention I was receiving and knew Ted didn’t miss being the center of attention one bit.

After church Dad brought us to breakfast at Mel and Faye’s diner. Our Waitress, Shirley couldn’t compliment me enough.

“My daughter looked just like you when she was your age, so beautiful,” she gushed.

I of course blushed like crazy.

Shannon hadn’t seen my dress and when we got home I went to her house and knocked on the door. Her mother answered.

“Hi Mrs. O’Hara,” I said.

“Oh my look at you, Cindy. What a pretty dress, Come in,” she said opening the door for me to enter. “Shannon, Cindy’s here.”

Shannon came running from her room and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me.

Her hand went to her mouth with a gasp, “Cindy, you look like a princess.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it. Mom can you buy me a dress like Cindy’s?”

“You already have a dress.”

“But Cindy’s is prettier.”

“I’ll let you wear mine if you want.”

“Not today,” Mrs. O’Hara said.

“Come on,” Shannon said, pulling me by the hand to her room.

I smoothed my dress like Mom had shown me and sat on the edge of her bed.

“Cindy, you look so beautiful.”

“Thank you. Do you really like the dress?”

“I love it, don’t you?”

“Oh yes. I feel so special with it on.”

“You look special.”

So it went. Shannon and I talked about girl things the rest of the afternoon, dolls and growing into pretty women. We never spoke of soccer or any of the other things we shared with the boys. This was the day Marcus disappeared and Cindy became a real person. I don’t think I ever thought of myself as a boy again.

My changes also affected my mother. After our witnessing the murder, she had withdrawn from the outgoing person she had been and closed herself off from Dad and my brother and I. Living in Jackson had helped her return to her normal self, but when I became Cindy, it was like she became a new person. Mom and I seemed to talk more. When I was a boy she never shared her life with me, other than where she had been raised. Now she would tell me about her girlfriends when she was my age and how my life was going to change, as I got older. My love for my mother seemed to grow every day. Sadly, the closeness my mother and I shared seemed to diminish between Ted and I. There was a time when we were inseparable and like many identical twins would say and do things at the same time, even finishing sentences for each other. As our first year in witness protection grew to a close Ted seemed to have a boy/ girl prejudice building a wall between us, a wall I wouldn’t let happen.

“Ted,” I asked, one day after we had returned home from school, “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because you never hang out with me anymore.”

“I do.”

“No you don’t. If you’re not with your friends, you’re in your room playing video games. We never used to be like that. We would play catch after we finished our homework or ride our bikes, but we were always together.”

“I know,” he answered sheepishly.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s you. You’re a girl now and boys don’t play with girls.”

“I’m your sister, but I’m still Marcus under these clothes.”

“No you’re not. You aren’t a boy anymore and my friends say we don’t play with girls.”

“Is that why you started swearing?”

“All us guys swear, it’s what boys do.”

“God Ted, that’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. I might be Cindy now, but I can still catch and bat better than you.”

“No you can’t”

“Yes I can.”

“Prove it.”

My face was flushed with anger toward my brother. He was being such a jerk and I had always been a better ball player than him so I wanted to make a point. There was still a me, but the me was Cindy.

We grabbed our mitts and went into the back yard. Ted and I had both pitched during the first year after T-ball. Dad had worked with us every day and we both were several years ahead of the rest of the team with regards to pitching. As far as batting was concerned, we both were pretty equal with our skills.

Ted threw the ball to me, which I caught easily. I threw it back to him and he handled it as well. Back and forth we threw the ball. It was as if we had never left New Jersey. Then Ted did something unexpected, he threw with much more velocity. The ball slapped into my mitt, and then I knew, he wanted to prove he was better than me, his sister. I fired the ball back with as much gusto as had had thrown to me. This little exercise continued for several minutes and each throw grew in intensity. Now, bear in mind that we were just short of turning nine, that would take place in two months. As an eight-year-old boy and girl we weren’t as accurate as someone much older than us. It didn’t take long before we were diving for errant throws, so much so that Ted threw the ball at me as his anger grew that his sister was able to catch everything thrown at her, where as he dropped the ball twice because he was losing concentration. I was able to duck as the ball just missed my head. Unfortunately for Ted, the ball went through the window in the garage, breaking the glass.

We both looked at the damage before we spoke.

“You tried to hit me,” I said.

“No I didn’t, you just didn’t catch the ball.”

“Why would you do that to me?”

“Because.”

“Ted, because isn’t an answer. I could tell you were getting mad at me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yes you were. We never threw the ball like that before. You were just mad because I didn’t drop the ball.”

“Well you threw it where I couldn’t catch it.”

“Look at me, I have dirt all over my clothes because you threw the ball where you thought I wouldn’t catch it, but I did. I didn’t make you dive to catch it.”

“Bull.”

“Hey you two, playing catch I see,” Dad said, as he walked out the rear door of the house.

“What happened to the window?” he asked, when he spotted the damaged glass.

Ted and I looked down at the ground while I waited for him to say something. He didn’t. Ted was my brother and if he wouldn’t say anything, I would.

“Which one of you broke the window?” He asked, with more intensity in his voice.

“I did Dad. I asked Ted to throw the ball higher and said I would catch it, but it went off my mitt and it broke the window. I’m sorry, it’s all my fault,” I said as tears filled my eyes.

“Don’t cry Cindy, it was an accident. I can’t begin to tell you how many windows I broke when I was your age. It’s part of playing baseball in the back yard. It’s easy to fix, come on you two let’s go to the glass shop and we’ll come home and repair the damage.”

Dad walked to me and hugged me tight, and whispered, “Don’t cry, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ted watched quietly in the back ground while Dad went into the garage to get the car.

“You lied to protect me,” Ted said.

“I should have caught the ball.”

“I’m so sorry sis. I forgot what we were like and I was being stupid. You’re still a better player than me even if you are a girl.”

“I love you Ted and remember we’re still twins.”

Because we’re siblings Ted and I are on the same team. The rest of Ted’s friends ended up on other teams, which brought the usual good-natured teasing as the season progressed. Our team was one of the best and Ted and I were the best players on the team. This of course brought many taunts that Ted’s sister was a better player than him. To his credit he didn’t let it bother him after our confrontation with the window.

When the season ended, both Ted and I were selected to the all-star team. This meant playing during the summer and meant I would be spending less time with Shannon. As hard as it was to admit, I was beginning to like my time playing girl with her. Cindy was slowly taking a little of Marcus away with every passing day.

The next two years seemed to fly by. Ted and I were still all-stars and other players were impressed that a girl could pitch as well as I did. I had trouble remembering the Marcus I had left behind. With the time I had spent with Shannon and my other girlfriends my physical movements had changed. My walk had become feminine, as had my hand movements. I had pretty much become the girl I was portraying. Even Ted noticed the changes and wondered what I would do in the future?

“Hey Cindy, want to play catch for a while?” he asked.

I hadn’t finished my homework from school yet and I felt it was more important than playing ball. When I was Marcus you couldn’t keep me away from a chance to play ball with Ted.

“I have to finish my homework bro, maybe later.”

“It’ll be dark later.”

“I’m sorry but my studies come first. Shannon and I want have straight A’s when our report cards come out.”

“It’s just for a few minutes,” he pleaded.

“I can’t Ted, this is really important.”

“You were never like this before you became a girl,” he said disgustedly.

“It’s not about being a girl, Ted. Were both the same, it’s just that I have to pretend to be a girl, that’s all.”

“It’s more than pretending Cindy. You’re nothing like the twin brother I had three years ago.”

“That’s nonsense, Ted. Were twins and I haven’t changed, well except for my hair and the clothes I wear. I’m still your twin brother.”

“Cindy, you’re not. You’ve changed. You walk like a girl and talk like a girl. Maybe when you wear jeans you kind of look like a boy with long hair, but as soon as you talk or walk everyone sees that you’re a girl.”

“I could cut my hair?”

My hair had grown for three years and Mom decided she wanted her daughter to have long hair. It now reached the middle of my back and I pleaded with her to not let it grow any longer. She asked why and I explained that it got tangled when I played ball, so she relented and had my hair styled at the length it was now.

“Mom would kill you.”

“But then I would be your brother again.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No,” I answered softly.

“See, that’s what I mean, Cindy, you really are a girl now.”

“But we’re twins.”

“I know we’re twins and I love you just as much as if you were a boy. You’re my sister and we still answer for each other when we talk,” Ted laughed.

Ted was right, we still were twins. Every time we were together and were talking with parents or friends, we always ended up saying what the other had started. I loved my brother and as hard as it was to admit, I liked being a girl and liked being his sister.

As was normal, we had grown to four foot four inches tall. If I was to cut my hair and change my clothes we would be identical twins once more but I knew the danger to our family if I did, and beside I liked the girl I had become and wondered what the coming years would provide?

Edited by Di Wonder
 
 

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To Be Continued...