By Czolgolz
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It was one of those depressing traveling carnivals that stop by suburban towns for a week or so. You know the type. Greasy food, drunk clowns, unsound rides. Monuments to all that was cheap and fake.

Crowds of suburbanites wandered among the booths, attempting to win crappy prizes at the fixed games, buying ten thousand calorie funnel cakes, and listening to the blaring music from a painfully bad country band.

I watched from inside my tent. None of these people interested me. I could have showed them things that would make their narrow minds melt, could have literally driven them insane, but I kept the curtains drawn. I only catered to a very select type of customer.

What was this? He was alone. A boy, of about eleven. No, no, older than that, about thirteen. He was just a weakling, undeveloped, a teenager who gave the impression of still being a child.

Here alone, young man? Don't you have friends to share this miserable fair with? Why do you just stand there by yourself, eating your dripping ice cream?

As if on cue, three other young men approached him. Even from a distance, I could tell they were no friends of this boy. I couldn't hear what they said to him, but I could read the humiliation in his face. Wolves, obviously, traveling in a pack, looking for the weaker deer who couldn't defend himself. By the time they left, the boy was holding back tears. His ice cream had been smashed into his shirt and he was rubbing his side from a sucker punch one of them had thrown.

There was my first customer of the night. Maybe my only one this week, but it didn't matter. I could help him. I opened the curtains to my tent as he wandered by.

To the rest of the crowd, my tent looked dark, abandoned. To him, it appeared fully lighted, welcoming, inviting. He wandered in. I hid in the back room of the large tent, unseen.

Every wall on my tent was plastered with magazine covers: Sports Illustrated, Glamor, Seventeen, Rolling Stone. Each cover showed a smiling jock, model, or musician. Upon closer inspection, you would have realized the faces on the covers were just of regular people. For a small price, I could put your image on the magazine cover. Only your face, of course. The body was preprinted.

The boy began to glance at the photos. What is your desire, young man? To be the macho football player, the one no one picks on? The cool rock star, the one others will envy? Or just a handsome guy, someone not so awkward?

He didn't know it, but his dreams were about to come true. I'd watch until I was sure of his wishes.

Now this was interesting. He wasn't gravitating to the macho studs. He walked to the wall that had the pictures of women. The swimsuit models, the prom queens, the brides.

Perhaps he just liked the way they looked. What teenager could resist a picture of a pretty girl? Especially a guy like this, who'd probably never even held hands with one.

Wait! He had paused in front of a fake issue of Teen People. The one with a pretty teenage girl on the cover. He just stood there, staring at her. And then, slowly, he mimicked her pose. Held his body in the same position as the cover girl. Very significant!

And now what was he doing? Looking at a copy of Bride's Magazine. No adolescent boy would give that periodical a second glance. Unless-

Oh, this was going to be fun. It was time to make myself known. I assumed a form he could see.

"You'd be surprised how many guys like that."

The boy nearly jumped a foot when he heard my voice. He obviously was ashamed of what he'd been thinking. Turning to me, he saw me as an attractive, middle aged woman. Someone who wouldn't humiliated him. It was probably for the best that he couldn't see my true form.

"Lots of guys take joke pictures like that," I continued. "Here, look at this."

I brought up a magazine cover on a computer screen. It was a swimsuit issue. The body was a busty girl in a bikini, the face was of a hairy, college-age man.

The boy seemed relieved, he believed I didn't know what he'd really been thinking.

"Yeah, funny joke," he squeaked. "That's why I was looking at those girl magazines. As a joke."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Kevin."

Up close, I could see why Kevin was such an obvious target for the bullies. Not an ounce of muscle, not an inch of jaw. Just big, beautiful eyes, scraggly brown hair, and a face that was ready to take a punch.

'This isn't a joke to you,' I thought to myself. 'You know you make a poor male. More and more often, you wonder if you'd make a better girl.'

Out loud, I said "Well, Kevin, would you like to put your face on a magazine cover? It's only five dollars."

"Um, I don't know."

"Come on." I gave him a warm smile. "If you don't like it, you don't have to buy it."

"Well, okay. Just as a joke."

I gestured to the girl magazines with what appeared to be my hand. "Which one would you like?"

A guy who was doing this as a joke would have picked the cover with the sexiest bimbo on it. Kevin, however, took his time.

"Her! No, wait, her. No, maybe this one."

"Actually, Kevin, come into the back room. There's some pictures here that might be more your speed."

Kevin followed me into the second half of the tent. Inside was a chair and a table stacked with photos.

"Have a look at these, Kevin. Pick your new body."

Every picture was of a young girl, aged twelve to sixteen. Not magazine poses, these were simply young ladies posing for a photograph, dressed in nice clothes. Every face had been blanked out with a white oval. In the middle of each oval tiny print read 'your face here.'

Kevin looked the photos with an eagerness I'd rarely witnessed. He'd been searching for five minutes when he pulled a photo out of the stack.

"This one."

She was a girl of about fourteen. Short brown hair, long, but gangly legs, well-formed hands. Her body was starting to develop like a woman's. She would obviously be a knockout in a few years. She was dressed in a longish skirt, a short sleeve blouse, and sneakers.

"Great choice. Okay, Kevin, just have a seat."

He gladly sat, as I prepared what must have seemed like a camera to him. As usual, I paused. Was it right to do this? Had I misjudged?

Then I thought of the boys who'd beat him up, minutes earlier. Any change had to be better than the life he was living.

"Are you ready for your new body, Kevin?"

He nodded.

There was a bright flash.

*

It's lucky my tent didn't occupy space as Kevin would understand it. The fairgoers surely would have investigated the horrified screams of a young girl if they had heard them.

"What have you done to me?"

The girl in the back of the tent looked like an eighth grader. She was no great beauty, but she had fine features. She'd surely grow into her looks. Too bad she looked so terrified.

Where there had once been an ice cream stained shirt, there was a cute little top, with a slight bulge in the chest. Where there'd once been torn jeans, there was now a long skirt. The short hair was longer, the rough hands now delicate.

I shrugged. "You wanted your face on that body. I gave it to you."

Kevin held his soft hands in front of him like they were objects of horror. He then began prodding his body: his hips, his belly, his chest. He started to put his hand down his skirt, then stopped.

"My body!" he bawled. "I have tits! My voice, I sound like a chick! God, my ears are pierced! And I'm missing my- oh, God!"

It was time to calm her down. "This is what you wanted. This is what you asked me for."

"It is not what I asked for!"

"But it's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Kevin stopped gasping. "Maybe I thought about this. But I can't be a girl! What will my parents say?"

"I'm sure they'll grow to love having a daughter."

"What will people say at school when I show up like this? Oh, God, change me back! Make me a boy again!"

It was time to be stern. "Kaitlin, look at me."

She was crying again. "My name's not Kaitlin."

"You can't very well go by Kevin anymore." I touched her shoulder. "Why don't you look in the mirror?"

She froze, as if she were about to look at something from the house of freaks. Gingerly, she gazed at the mirror.
The body was Kaitlin's. The face was still Kevin.

Oh, the cheekbones were higher and the forehead bigger. Maybe the nose had been bobbed. But she still had those wide, beautiful eyes, and terrified mouth.

"You've dreamed about looking like this, haven't you?"

She paused, then nodded.

"Then why fight it?"

"Because everyone at school knows me as Kevin! They'll beat me up! Please, lady, change me back!"

I shook what appeared to be my head. "I went through a lot of trouble for you, young lady, you'd think you'd be grateful. But I'll make you a deal." I handed her a receipt for her 'picture.'

"Go walk across the fairgrounds. Around the Ferris wheel and back. If you hate being Kaitlin after that, give me back the receipt and you can be Kevin again."

Kaitlin's eyes filled with horror. Obviously, she was thinking of the guys who'd humiliated Kevin earlier. "I can't! Please don't make me!"

"Sorry. That's the deal. To the Ferris wheel and back. And don't lose that receipt. No exchanges without it."

Kaitlin suddenly found herself standing outside the tent.

*

Kaitlin/Kevin froze in horror. This was not happening. He hadn't just lost his body. Hadn't been changed into a girl.

The funny thing was, this was exactly what he'd prayed for for the past five years. Now that it came true, he was horrified.

James and his gang were around here somewhere. Oh, God, what would they do to him when they found him in a skirt? They'd kill him. That's what they'd do.

His only hope was to round the Ferris wheel before anyone saw him.

You're used to hearing your name all your life. It's hard to condition yourself to respond to anything else.

"Kaitlin!" screamed the girl for the third time. "Hey, Kaitlin!"

Kevin froze, as the girl approached him. She was his age, with dark hair, glasses, and a pretty, wire-covered smile. She was calling to him. But no one knew him as Kaitlin!

"Geez, did you go deaf, Katie?" The girl smiled at Kevin, like they were old friends.

"I, um, I."

"It's okay. You enjoying the fair?" The girl reached out and touched Kevin's arm. And suddenly he was flooded with memories. They weren't his memories, but they were strangely familiar:

-Kaitlin and Becky (her name was Becky!) playing with dolls after kindergarten.

-Two best friends, sharing clothes, and experimenting with forbidden makeup.

-Two girls entering junior high, scared and excited. Sharing thoughts about first periods, bras, and the boys they were noticing.

-Two girls, close as any sisters.

"I'm fine, Becky."

"I wish I'd known you were here, Kaitlin, I have to go. But give me a call later, 'k?"

"O-okay."

Kevin watched the girl leave. Becky, his best girlfriend? But how? Did that crazy woman change his life, along with his body? Did everyone know him as Kaitlin? The kids at school? His own parents? Was he the only one who even remembered Kevin?

"Hi, Kaitlin." The voice was male, and shy. Kevin turned, just in time to see James, the boy who'd stuck his head in a toilet last week, approaching him.

Kevin had been abused enough that he jumped back when his tormentor approached. Girl or not, he knew James had something horrible in mind.

He shouldn't have worried.

James was shifting from foot to foot, looking at the ground.

"How's it going, Kaitlin?"

Suddenly, Kevin's mind was filled with another wave of unfamiliar memories.

-James, following Kaitlin around at school.

-James, asking Kaitlin out, and being laughed at.

-James, buying Kaitlin a valentine card. Kaitlin throwing in it in the trash.

-James, torturing some smaller boy. Kaitlin yelling at him, calling him a bully, accusing him of having a small penis. James looking like he was going to cry.

Oh, this was too sweet. James LIKED Kaitlin. And Kaitlin wanted nothing to do with this bullying son of a bitch.

"What the hell do you want?" Kevin's voice was self-assured. An hour earlier, James had smashed an ice cream into Kevin's shirt. Kaitlin was about to get revenge.

"I just was wondering if maybe, you know, you'd like to ride the merry-go-round with me. Or something." Where once there was swagger and bravado, now there was fear. James was actually timid around girls.

"Sorry, Jimmy. I don't like little kid rides." Kevin turned and walked away.

He'd done it! For the first time, he'd stood up to James! No fear of the beatings, the mocking, the humiliation! Pretty girls, self-confident girls didn't have to worry about things like that.

Kevin's heart began to beat faster. He felt the receipt in his hand. Was he seriously thinking about not returning to the tent? Fun was fun, but to be Kaitlin forever? That was too much.

"Kaitlin? I was wondering where you'd run off to."

Kevin didn't recognize the boy, he must have gone to another school. Black hair, kind of short, obviously an athlete. He carried an ice cream cone in each hand. Kevin wondered how Kaitlin knew him.

"I got you an ice cream. Rocky road, your favorite." At least one thing hadn't changed.

As the boy handed Kevin the cone, he smiled. Kevin felt a warm, twittering feeling, nothing he'd ever experienced before.
He wasn't sure what had caused it, but he knew he wanted this boy to keep smiling.

The memories assaulted Kevin again. This time they were stronger than they'd been with Becky and James. Like a vivid dream he'd had.

-This boy, Mark, shifting from foot to foot, looking at the ground. "Kaitlin, would you like to go to the spring dance with me?"

-Two eighth graders in the middle of a gym, touching hands and staring at each other in a wonderful kind of terror.

-Kaitlin and Mark at the movies. The touch of his hand on hers. That warm, twittering sensation again.

-Alone, behind the bleachers. A first kiss, awkward and beautiful.

Kevin jolted back to reality. "Thank you, Mark."

Mark smiled at him again. Kevin smiled back. They smiled for a long time, as their ice cream melted.

"Kaitlin? Next week my parents are having a barbecue. It's kind of stupid, but maybe you'd like to come? We have a pool."

There was no hesitation. "I'd like that."

They giggled and ate their ice cream. Kevin thought back to earlier, when he was a nobody, but to his surprise, the memories were getting harder to grasp. Kevin's life seemed like the plot of a movie he'd seen years ago. Kevin thought about the future. He looked forward to being alone tonight, exploring this new life. What was Kaitlin's room like? What kind of clothes did she wear? Did she really fill out this bra?

The young couple finished their treats.

"Want to go on the Ferris wheel, Kaitlin?"

"Okay!"

Mark went to take her hand, then pulled away.

"I'm all sticky. Let me run get some napkins."

"No," said Kaitlin. "Just use this thing."

Mark wiped his hands on the receipt from the photo booth. Then, holding hands and giggling, Kaitlin and Mark made their way to the Ferris wheel.