I used the wifi at the coffee shop near the hostel to get the address of the cinema and find subway directions. I had spent too much on my smartphone to afford actual data service, but it was a wonderfully useful device when it could get free wifi somewhere. I wondered what the folks at home would think if they could see me surfing the internet with my smartphone. Then I thought they might not notice the smartphone once they caught sight of my white cotton sundress, strappy 4” sandals and painted toenails.

As I approached the cinema I saw Luc standing in the small pedestrian mall out front. He was scanning the crowd, no doubt wondering whether I'd show, since he failed to put his number on the note. He was sweet, charming, and adorable. But I doubted whether he was the brightest bulb in the family tree.

As his gaze swept in my direction, I let out a big wave and he beamed as I came his way. When I got within arm's length, he reached out like a dancer and swept me into him as I spiraled into his arm sending the skirt of the sundress fanning out in the spin, planting a big kiss on my cheek. It was like a move from some stylish film, and it happened quite spontaneously, though from the looks of others on the plaza in front of the theater, I sensed they thought we were showoffs, or performers to lure people to the film festival. I was startled. I looked up at him with surprise – and a tinge of delight. He instantly got sheepish. “I'm sorry. That is how we do it back home.”

I wrapped my arms around his waist and said “I see. So all I have to do is....” I stood on my toes, cradled his chin in my hands and planted a long, wet kiss. Then broke off, looking all innocent and perplexed, batting my eyelashes and said in English with a heavy french accent “....oh. I'm sorry! That is simply how we do it in my country,”

He looked down smiling, and put his finger to my nose. “I kissed you on the CHEEK.”

I pouted.

“THAT is how we do it in my country.”

I lowered my eyes in mock shame. He pulled me to his side and started walking to the theater entrance.

“....But I like your way better.” he smiled as he squeezed my waist. A small voice in my head was screaming at me 'what do you think you're doing????'

It wasn't as romantic as you may be thinking. I can't speak for Luc, but it actually wasn't as romantic as I expected. Still, it was the best night of my life up to that point. Remember, I had never even been in a movie theater. Everything was a discovery. The concession. The velvet drapes over the screen, the plush chairs with holders in the arm for beverages. I might have at least been used to those if I spent any time riding in cars. Everything was a revelation to me. I adored my evening at the movie. We watched a number of experimental films by artists and other 'outsiders'. I read everything I could get my hands on as a kid, and that night, I realized more clearly than ever how much I didn't know. One thing I did know... I was starving to learn more. And I also knew with absolute certainty, that I was not coming back from Rumspringa.

We had a romantic walk and talked a bit. Luc asked about me, and I told him what I could without lying. Again I layered truths with significant gaps so that I didn't have to lie, yet could make it seem like I was telling him about myself, although in a way to let him fill in those gaps with misconceptions. I told him of our small community and how we were separate from the outside world in so many ways, how the boys and girls worked in different areas and never comingled unless they were coming home to their family. I explained how Rumspringa was a rite of passage into adulthood and tacitly into marriage and family life. He seemed fascinated. I told him how years of ….not repression.. ..more like ignorance.. of the ways of the outside world were part of the shock and trial that was Rumspringa. Learning about and experiencing the ways of the outside world. Risking going overboard but hopefully pulling back before anything was done that could not be undone. Putting the lessons of morality, propriety and resistance of temptation to a real life test. He listened attentively and seemed captivated and intrigued. After I ran out of things to say, he kneaded his chin and regarded me so long and hard that I became uncomfortable and really self conscious.

“Will you go back? Could you go back?”

“After what I have already experienced in the outside world...... and knowing that I have only scratched the surface..... No. I don't think I could.” I hadn't even admitted that to myself until this moment.

"What will you do?” Luc asked.

“....I have no idea.....” I said to myself as much as to him.

We had a very pleasant evening. Nothing got out of control, or even too heated. Luc was charming, and I suspected, maybe a bit of a romantic. Or maybe that's 'just how they do it' in his country. I smiled at the thought.

He walked me back to the hostel and left me with a long, languid kiss on the steps. I had to take a moment and collect my wits before breezing in. I hoped no one saw us outside.

Apparently no one had, since Chastity & Temperance greeted me disinterestedly as I walked into the common area. Tem was helping Chastity highlight her tips, and Felicity was lost in a gossip magazine.

“How is Constance?” Chastity asked politely.

“Oh. You know. I really have missed her.” I replied distractedly. “I'm exhausted. I'll see you in the morning” I said walking to my cot.

“Sweet dreams” Chastity chirped.

“Yeah. Of your Frenchman.” Tem hooted. I smiled. I choose to blame her for putting the idea in my head.

I don't ever recall having a sex dream before. In fact, I almost never remember my dreams at all. This one I will never forget. Luc was exploring every inch of my body. He nibbled my earlobes and worked his way down the nape of my neck. I could feel his hot breath as his tongue flicked the erect nipples of my swollen breasts. His strong hands reached down to brush my inner thighs, then slid up to my lower back as he pressed himself into me and I began to wrap my legs around his waist.....

I awoke with a start. The sheets were soaked. For a moment I thought I had wet the bed. Then I realized I was drenched in sweat , breathing rapidly and my heart was racing. I reached down between my legs, surprised to find that everything was still there, still tucked away, and not in any way I could determine, physically aroused. Still, the whole area was moist and slippery with sweat. What the hell was happening to me?

I got up and washed myself up quietly. I don't think I disturbed anyone else. I thought, maybe this happens to others occasionally too, and the rest of us just sleep through it. I lay awake the rest of the night, hoping I didn't talk in my sleep.

Luc and I had exchanged numbers over drinks and snacks after the film festival. He asked how I would feel about being photographed. I told him I hadn't really given it any thought, and wondered why he wanted me as a subject. He explained he thought it would be an interesting photo essay to do a piece on a small town girl from essentially the 18th century suddenly thrust into the life of a modern American woman. I expressed surprise that no one had done this before. He speculated that even if it had been done, it was unlikely that it had been done by another cultural outsider – a photojournalist from another country. I think he was beginning to imagine himself as a 21st century DeTocqville. I agreed to do it without much enthusiasm. I didn't feel any misgivings about being the subject of his photo essay, once he agreed to keep my identity and past totally vague. He could show other communities similar to mine and explore our ways, but he couldn't talk about my life, my town or anything specific to my past before Rumspringa. I would be a symbol... an icon. I also counted on the fact that he really wouldn't cover anything specific about me before my arrival in Chicago – as Allison.

The next 10 days were exciting and fun. He was shooting stills and video, occasionally interviewing me – in French – about my experiences with the outside world. I explained to him that I really hadn't experienced much of it. We decided in a meeting. Actually HE decided, since he was going to pay for it – that I needed to experience more of America.

He had finished looking at schools and was planning to return home for no particular reason. Suddenly his 'Girl meets World' project gave him a reason to stay the summer.

I saw little of my friends, as we'd disappear for days at a time. I think they thought that he was trying to seduce me, or vice versa. Either way, they were convinced that it was going to end badly.

Actually, Luc was in love with his art, and while he did make love to me in his own way, it was always through the camera. I had a hard time recognizing the beautiful images he captured with the soul looking out at the world through these two eyes. He was amused that when I commented on the photos and videos, I always referred to the subject in the third person. Always 'she'. Never 'me'.

Luc was a true artist. And a true romantic. We flew to South Beach and he got my reaction to the opulence and decadence of south Florida. And my first experience with the ocean. I always thought I'd dip my toes into the sea someday. I never imagined that they would be brightly painted toes, complimenting my string bikini.... or that I would have my own personal paparazzo documenting my wonder and delight in such excruciating detail.

We drove to the Keys, and I got to explore the languid decadence of that unique artist and outsider enclave. Luc had a thing for outsiders. I eventually picked up on that. I wondered if he felt like an outsider himself, being the bohemian slacker in a family filled with overachievers.. I wondered if he had any idea how much of an outsider I actually was.

He was a charming and romantic companion. I think he was more in love with the idea of romance than he was with me. I was just his dance partner. We could anticipate each others every move, and we made quite the symbiotic pair. But like ideal dance partners, always, the music stopped and we went to our separate rooms. Often, I felt as if he could see into my soul. I wondered how he seemed to know that things could only go so far, and while he would eagerly take it to that point, he would never cross that line and require 'the talk'. I was torn between relief that it went as far as it could and no farther and guilt that I was unable to take it beyond. Still, it was like a romance. A 'G' rated Disney romance. All roses and butterflies and no soiled sheets and trips to the family planning aisle. I became used to the experience Bruce Springsteen immortalized, waking up with the sheets soaking wet and a freight train running through the middle of my head. I wondered if Luc did too.

I tried to stay in touch with my friends. I'd send postcards to their last known address. Sometimes asking Luc to print up a picture from his project as a postcard I could mail. Like me sitting in Ernest Hemingway's lap, seeming to lift my sundress in a way to flash the old statue in a devilishly inappropriate way.

It would take weeks, but eventually I'd get a txt reading “BITCH! ;-D Girl, you are SO over your head. GET OUT!” and their new address. They were in St Louis for a while, and Santa Fe, and finally San Diego. Meanwhile we took a “puddle jumper” to New Orleans, tore up the French quarter, meandered over to Austin, and eventually ended up in Nevada. More specifically, Las Vegas.

I finally felt that my world-weary companion was experiencing the same culture shock I was. There are really no words for Las Vegas. I've heard other women describe childbirth this way, and it may be sacrilege, but I'll risk it. If you have never experienced Vegas first hand, you really can't grasp what it's like. It's human aspiration – and shortcoming – writ large. It's over the top opulence and gaudiness, living right up the street from bleak despair. Shrines to The High Roller obscuring the trailer parks and encampments of those who were unable to escape the gravity well of the broken dream. We met some lovely people there. Many worked at the B & C list establishments and were philosophical about their role in the scheme of things. Luc somehow managed to get us backstage to talk with showgirls about their 'glamorous' life. I was able to talk myself out of an offer to suit up and join the girls in a review that was actually early on a Wednesday and only had a smattering of seniors in the seats. I knew Luc would edit it so it seemed that I joined them on the busiest show of the week, but that was not the image I wanted to present. No 'Good Girl turns Show Girl' footage. He was good natured about it and didn't press the matter. He did say that he thought it would make his piece more commercially attractive, but agreed that it was salacious and misleading. So when the manager of the legalized bordello offered me a job, I knew Luc put him up to it as a prank. I went so far as to 'audition' with a giant rubber toy to call Luc's bluff. It worked. I'm not sure if he was rattled or aroused. He kept looking at me curiously.

“You know I want that memory card.” I held out my hand.

Luc frowned. “I have other stuff on there too.”

“And I won't delete any of that. But no one else will ever see THAT.”

He pouted.

“Ask me again under the right circumstance and you might just get an encore.... but for now...” I snapped my fingers and he contritely handed over the memory card.

What exactly was I obliquely promising? I wondered. Often I even surprise myself. Levi never surprised anyone.

We hit LA with a vengeance. Luc wanted to get the farmgirl who grew up with horses driving around the endless freeways in a sexy convertible. I told him I didn't drive. He seemed unfazed.

“I can teach you. It's not rocket science.”

“I don't have a license” I reminded him.

“Then you will need to be extra careful." he smiled. "This is an expensive rental.”

I actually enjoyed learning to drive. Luc was right. I took to it like a duck to water. I wanted a license. But that would be a problem. Not because I was in the databanks as Levi. More because I wasn't in the databanks at all. In some ways our little semi isolated community may have well been a different country. ...or planet. Those who left for the 'outside' or were banished needed to get someone on the inside to smuggle records... usually a page from a family bible or a photo of one... with birth info, to a sympathetic bureaucrat on the outside, often another former member of the community, for entry into the system as a routine birth certificate from any hospital. It was a bit outside the rules, but no one considered it sinister, so it could be done on those rare occasions it was needed.

In some ways that made things easier, because I could easily have a family bible entry that said “Allison Crowe”, with my chosen gender and a birthdate of my choosing.... I would keep the date, but tweak the year. Not very ladylike to INcrease the age, but it would make things much easier in so many ways, since there are so many things people under 18 are not allowed to do, yet I know I would handle responsibly. The real trick was to find someone on the inside who could smuggle documents out. I hoped Tem or Felicity would return from Rumspringa. Chastity was a sweet girl and a gentle spirit, but I did not think she would help me since she still seemed to feel guilty over her part in 'killing' Levi.

The sportscar shoot seemed to go well. I didn't damage the car, and I like to think I drove at least as well as many of the other drivers on the road. I was really getting addicted to the feel of 400 horses under my toes.

Luc met me for breakfast the next morning.

“What's next boss?” I cheerfully inquired.

“How would you like to be in the movies?” He smiled at me.

I was speechless. I had only seen my first film in a theater less than a month ago, and now he was asking me if I wanted to BE on that big screen?

“I take it that is a yes.”

I nodded, wide eyed.

It wasn't exactly as I imagined it. We were extras. A 'crowd for hire' to add realism to some Hollywood megahit.

“S'not like the old days” an old timer turned to me. “Used to be, if you needed to fill the coliseum or field a barbarian horde, you'd need the whole deal. Now they just take a few dozen people and CGI them into a massive throng, varying things with statistical algorithims.” I nodded sympathetically. I grew up without electricity or indoor plumbing, but I followed everything he said. I had come a long way in a very short while. And that wasn't even counting the gender transformation.

The casting assistant milled through the crowd pointing at people like some sort of reverse grim reaper. Those she touched beamed with joy. The moment was theirs. My new companion got the pick. I smiled in shared satisfaction, even though the fickle finger passed me by.

The crowd broke up. I milled around looking for Luc. I assume he was off getting B roll. Probably interviewing the filmmakers, insinuating himself as one of the people hired by the studio to shoot DVD extras. I wondered if the only reason he got me this gig was so that he could tag along with me and get onto the set. I didn't mind either way. If not for him I wouldn't be having this wonderful experience.

I roamed over to the commissary and had a salad. I marveled that I was sitting two tables from 'America's favorite Dad' and a table full of zombies. ...And I thought Vegas was surreal! It's probably the best that they keep us so in the dark, I mused. We would never leave for Rumspringa if we had any clue what the world was capable of. I couldn't suppress my grin.

I ambled back toward the set hoping to find Luc. My “Visitor/Extra” sticker must have fallen off my top. No surprise. It was quite lacy and there wasn't much for the pass to stick to. Luc thought it looked sexy and would increase the odds of my being picked for an extra. Fail buzzer.

I noticed there was a small crowd gathered outside the building where the extras gathered before. I presumed this was a new crew for a new shoot, but I didn't know where else to wait fot Luc. He had dropped me off here, I would wait for him here.

While I sat waiting, trying to find open wifi on my smartphone, a woman approached me.

“Would you be a dear and inform Linda that Sue had to bail. Christ, I think I must have that norovirus or something. Tell her I'm SO sorry and I owe her big”

None of that made any sense to me, but she seemed deeply distressed, so I just nodded reassuringly and she walked away looking relieved.

I sat for a half hour waiting for Luc. The door opened and a woman with a clipboard shouted to the crowd “Sue?” four women stood up, looking at each other.

“Sue McMillan” she clarified. Everyone sat down. I looked around. The woman looked perplexed. I held up my hand. She turned to me. What the hell.... was I in school? Why was my hand in the air. I walked up to the woman. “Sue was taken ill. She asked me to...”

“Ok” the woman smiled. “Wardrobe is over there” she pointed as she ushered me into the building.

I had given up wondering what would happen next. Rumspringa was notorious for the unexpected. I had long ago prepared myself to just go with it, confident that God had a plan. Many unimaginable things had happened, but they all turned out well. More than well. I was more alive than I had ever been. I would take a deep breath and surrender myself to destiny.

Another woman with a clipboard looked at me. “Where's Sue?”

“She took sick. Violently. She asked me....”

“You are?”

“Ali. ….Allison Crowe”

“Crow?” she scribbled in her clipboard

“With an 'e'” she scribbled a bit more.

“SAG card?”

I just looked at her quizically.

She scowled. “Oh shit. She's got to stop doing this Jerry!” she shouted to the man across the stage.

She walked to him and they had a heated conversation. He kept glancing at me. He put his arms on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. Eventually she calmed down and he let go. She came walking back to me.

“Look, I'm sorry if I.... Sue asked me to..”

“It's not you” she shrugged “I'm Carmen, by the way. It's just that she's been doing this a lot lately. She's been an a-list player for years, but lately she's been unreliable..... though she always sends a-list subs.... even if they're undocumented....” she shot me a dirty look, then a guilty shrug “...look, I know it's not you. It's a good break, and she's a great judge of talent. It's just such a fucking paperwork nightmare!” She looked at me as if realizing that I wasn't the cause of her frustration, and realizing that venting her frustration wasn't fair to me. “Fill out these forms and we'll get shit sorted. Wardrobe's over there. Were you briefed on the trick?”

I stared at her blankly.

“Of course you weren't” she rolled her eyes. “Still, Sue wouldn't have sent you if she didn't think you were up for it. You'll be fine.” She pointed to another group about 60 feet away. “Go suit up and study the stunt”.

I kind of amazed myself at my willingness to unquestioningly do as I was told. Some part of me was watching this as if passively witnessing an unfolding story. Part of me was quaking in my boots.

Speaking of boots.... the wardrobe department, which is where Carmen directed me, eyed me skeptically as I approached.

“Where's Sue?” The chubby blonde asked. I shrugged.

The tall brunette eyed me up and down. “You have to give THAT to Sue. She knows how to pick a doppelganger.” They sat me down and stripped me down to my underwear, going over me with a measuring tape, just to confirm what they had judged with their eyes.

“She's a bit small around the bust” the first one said.

“What bust?” I smiled at her.

“I was trying to be diplomatic” she smiled back.

Number two returned with more 'chicken cutlets'. No. They were more than that. They were actual, silicone breasts!

The blonde then took something off a nearby rack and handed it to me.

It was a leather catsuit and a pair of alarmingly sexy boots.

As Andi, the tall dark haired one, was gluing 'my boobs' on, Cathy the wardrobe assistant explained that it was actually pleather with a kevlar mesh lining. It was much stretchier than real leather, but the kevlar gave it almost as much protection as real leather.

“Protection against what?” I asked innocently.

“I thought you folks didn't talk about those sorts of things?” Andi joked. I smiled nervously wondering what I had gotten myself into.

The 'trick' as it turned out was a stunt for a deodorant commercial. The heroine, in her sexy leather catsuit with trim in the company colors, rides her matching motorcycle away from a baddie in a helicopter. He swoops down to finish her off, she pulls out a whip, Indiana Jones-like, uses it to snare his hand and pull him from the helicopter. As it careens away, she turns back to see ominous black muscle cars closing in on her, she then looks ahead to see a line of cars stopped for a passing freight train. With no hesitation, she guns the throttle, riding up the conveniently sloped back of the last car in line and jumps the train, safely screeching to a stop on the other side. Flipping up her helmet to reveal the actual spokesmodel, Janine, who from her now idling bike whips out her can of deodorant, looks straight into the camera and says “Panache. Cool under pressure.”

The helicopter part was easy since that was 'wire work'. The bike and I were on a flatbed and the bottom of the copter was suspended from the side. The crew drove beside us, everything happened at about 20 miles an hour but I knew they'd make it look much faster. I pulled Mike, 'the bad guy' from the copter out for six takes. He hit the mattress on the flatbed every time. I was then given my real bike, a Ducati concept bike that looked like something from the 22nd century. I asked if I could take it around a bit and get used to it. They were more than happy to give me some time to practice. Maybe I would have got more time if I told them that I had never ridden a motorcycle before, let alone an experimental prototype ...and over a moving train. I was no way near as scared as I should have been. In hindsight, I don't think it would be possible to be scared enough. We did some static shots first, me riding the bike at top speed really close past the camera. I don't think the camera crew was expecting me to buzz them THAT close. When I swung back, they looked a little annoyed, but when I did it exactly the same way on a few more takes, they seemed to realize that I was really in control and appeared to be enjoying the wake as I buzzed past them about 18 inches away. We got all the coverage, now it was time for the big trick. If anything happened to the bike – or its rider – they had already got all the other footage. And Janine had shot her tagline earlier when the bike was shiny clean. John, the D.P. gave everyone the talk, doublechecked that all the cameras were set, and admonished us that he didn't want to do this too many times, as it was very complicated and a lot could go wrong. No one needed to tell me that. Cal, the stage manager marked off a spot on the road with gaffer's tape. “What do you think? About here?” I looked up and down the road, furrowing my brow and trying to look like I was doing the math in my head.

“Sure. Looks good” I had no idea if this was far enough back, but I hoped he did.

Jerry called “action” and I punched it. The car at the end had a small fiberglass ramp about 3 feet wide running up its back, but the cameras were positioned where it wouldn't be visible. I was doing 112 when I hit the end of the ramp, and I knew immediately I was way too slow to get enough lift to clear the train. But the train I was supposed to go over was a boxcar with opened doors. I guess some thought it was more visual. I thought I might make the doors, but worried that I was too high. I crouched down so hard that I became one with the paintjob. It was a milisecond, and I realized I wasn't dead. But I instantly realized I could still be in a world of hurt if I didn't nail the landing. No way I was going to make the ramp on the other side. That was supposed to break my landing when I jumped OVER the train. Now I had to make sure I didn't fly right onto the front of it. I leaned hard to the right and just missed sideswiping the scaffolding. I was heading right for the camera crew. They looked startled and alarmed, but they were pros... they stood their ground. I spun around in a 180, giving the throttle a kick so I could burn off some momentum like airbrakes on a jet. I sprayed dust and grit on the camera crew and heard them yell, but it worked and I managed to stop the bike before hurtling into them.

“What the hell happened?!!!” Jerry bellowed as he came over.

I took off my helmet and smiled. It may have looked like confidence, but I was just giddy to still be alive and in one piece. “I couldn't get enough speed. I miscalculated the runup.” I saw Cal looking sheepish, but relieved that I was taking the blame. “I knew I couldn't clear the top of the train, so I improvised.” I shrugged. Jerry just glared at me and walked over to see the playback. I joined him and apologised to the crew for spraying them. As they watched the playback and saw what they captured, I think their resentment evaporated and they forgave me.

“Hah!” some guy in the group watching the playback stood up and stuck his finger in Jerry's face. “That's the way we storyboarded it in the first place and YOU said it couldn't be done!” he then walked my way while fishing for his cellphone “Nice job, little lady” he said.

I was in the middle of replying “we aim to please” when he slapped me on the ass as he walked by. I spun around to show him what I was aiming for now, when I noticed he was already oblivious, lost in his cellphone conversation.

“Agency” Jerry shrugged. I smiled, knowing that what he really meant was “middle management tool”

“So...” he spun me around and put his hands on my shoulders. “Ready to set up and go again?”

I looked at him in disbelief. After what I'd just gone through, I became convinced that God wasn't through with me yet. But I was not going to ask for a second take on a miracle.

“I don't think I could ever do that again.”

“Yeah...” he smiled sadly. “But as a pretty girl, you KNOW, a guy's gotta ask....”

I laughed and any tension was broken.

“Anyway. What we got was good. Even better than what we hoped for.” You're done for the day. It was a real pleasure to work with you and I hope I get to do it again soon. He shook my hand.

I smiled and I think I may have blushed a little.

“But next time we have to get you out of a helmet. That smile is a special effect of its own.”

This time I blushed a lot.

I headed back to the wardrobe table, but the girls weren't there. A P.A. Said they went to craft services. She said no one expected us to wrap this early.

I remembered that I totally forgot about Luc. I went to my bag and checked my phone. There were 8 increasingly alarming texts. I texted him back “something unexpected came up. Meet up where we left in 5. <3 A.“ I told the PA I'd be back and grabbed the helmet as I walked toward the door to the parking lot. Luc was standing near the entrance, looking around, scanning the crowd. While I think he was looking for me, he was also hungrily taking in everything. He was studying to be a filmmaker. I'm guessing for him this is like a kid's first trip to Disney World. He looked overwhelmed by it all, so the hot biker chick in the leather catsuit was just one more over-the-top sight. Until she strutted right up to him.

The heels made me tall enough to look him straight in the eye, maybe I was even half an inch taller. I walked right up to him, put my right hand to the small of his back and pushed him up to me, while flipping up the visor with my left hand. “So. How was YOUR day, dear?” I purred.

The expression on his face is etched in my mind. I see it every time I close my eyes and it never fails to make me smile.

I insisted that Luc get some stills and videos of me vamping in the suit, tossing my hair and looking all badass holding my helmet. I hoped he would be able to get permission to use the ad in his finished piece, and if he did, we would need some evidence that it really was me in the suit under that helmet. I wished I could pose by the bike, but I knew that was pushing it. I'm not even sure Luc believed me, so I had him join me as I went back to the wardrobe table where Cathy and Anita were ready to disassemble me and help me get back into my ordinary human clothes. As I got dressed again, I turned my back as I peeled off the catsuit and slipped on my top. Maybe they thought I was modest, but I was really hoping that they wouldn't remember the amazing silicone breasts they equipped me with. I got my top on, though it was really snug with the boobs sticking out like Lara Croft, so I threw on my hoodie pretending I was cold and left it unzipped but draped over my breasts. Either they didn't notice or they decided to give the flat girl a break, because no one said anything. We were talking about the shoot. I asked if they saw it and they said no. They were inside pulling wardrobe for another upcoming shoot. They said they would ask some of the crew to show them playback later since so many people were buzzing about it. I took the liberty of walking Luc out to the back lot where they were striking the gear. I asked one of the assistants if my boyfriend could see the playback from the shoot, and he brought us over to a table where Luc could watch the raw footage. This was really the best, because on the 6 windows with the different camera views you could see me at the starting mark as I put my helmet on, so he really knew it was me. He asked to see it 4 or 5 times until he noticed they were getting irritated. Then he just stared at me. I shrugged like 'yeah. That all went just the way I planned it.' I was glad they stopped the cameras before I took the helmet off after the stunt, and there is no recording of my face as I was trying to understand why I wasn't decapitated by the train, splattered like a bug at the base of the ramp or smeared all over the pavement. I just smiled blissfully at his slackjawed face and said “Thanks for taking me to be in the movies. This was a great idea. It was fun.”

“Who ARE you???” I thought he was joking around, but I began to wonder if he was just a little bit serious.

“You know me better than anyone. The real me.” Despite what he didn't know, he really did know more of the real me than anyone else. “Oh, by the way....” I said turning to look at the Ducati as they loaded it into a trailer “would you drive home? ...I am so over cars.” he pinched my waist and I squealed with surprise and mock pain. I returned the pinch and broke away, racing him to our parked rental car. It was a good day.

Summer was winding down and so was our Rumspringa. Soon we'd be heading home to help with the harvest, choose a spouse and take our new roles as adults in the community. Or not. Our original group stuck together all summer long – except me. As far as the boys knew, they lost Levi on the second day, so they never noticed they weren't one indivisible group being tested in the impious outside world. The girls knew different, but I think they were relieved. “Alison” was not part of their original group and explaining her continued presence to the boys would have proved increasingly awkward. My running off with Luc actually made their life much easier. Since we were all in California, we arranged to 'bump into each other' in San Francisco, The boys would get to meet Luc, - who I did inform that they didn't know I was 'like them' and it would only confuse them and complicate things if they found out. Again, the words I used explaining the situation to him were all 100% true – yet I know he took them to mean something completely different, but much more plausible. He agreed to keep my secret. Temperance, Chastity and Felicty would join me for a 'girls day out' where I would explain what I intended to do as Rumspringa ended. I think we all – well everyone but Chastity – knew what was going to happen, but the exact details would be a mystery.

Luc and I flew in a few days before the others, who were driving up the coast. I discovered that they had actually managed to sneak off and get licenses in March in preparation for their wild Rumspringa adventure. From how long it took them to arrive, I thought they were sightseeing. I later found out that the two boys insisted on doing all the driving but they both drove so slowly that they kept getting pulled over by police who noticed that they weren't elderly and so presumed the only other reason for their behavior was that they must be high. I found this quite amusing, and learned later that the girls did too...at first. After the fourth time, it stopped being funny. Much to the boy's annoyance Tem & Felicity would wait for the officer to come to the window and shout from the back seat “We're not high. We're Amish.” This wasn't technically true, but people knew Amish and no one knew our community. It was a close enough shorthand that it usually worked, The boys would get a stern lecture about not being a traffic hazard and be sent on their way. It took them 4 days to drive up from San Diego, so we explored the wine country. Luc loved it, and I think it made him a bit homesick. He hadn't talked of France at all until we got to Sonoma, but suddenly everything reminded him of a story, and he opened up to me. I learned more about him in those four days than I did in the previous 6 weeks... and it only made me want him more. I think he thought the same, because he talked about kids, and how big a family he'd like... the life he'd like to build once he finished school and settled down. He never mentioned me, but the fact that he shared all these intimate thoughts and plans with me, I never thought for a moment that this conversation was intended for anyone else. We were falling for each other hard, and that made me profoundly happy and deeply troubled. I knew there would be a reckoning, but hoped it wouldn't be for a while, because at the moment I had no idea what to do about it.

We met up with the group in San Francisco. The boys never questioned that it was pure coincidence, and I had to push it by joking that I wanted to name my first born “Serendipity”. This brought subtle glares from the girls, who I could tell were not happy with how comfortable I had become with myself. Temperance whispered in my ear “'Hubris' would be more like it.” I smiled and replied that it sounded appropriately French and that Luc probably wouldn't object. That only made her more upset.

“You are flirting with disaster! There is no way this can end well. And you are already in so deep. What is your plan?”

“I don't have one” This did not calm her. “But I have faith that God does.”

“Yes. It's called vengeance. You will reap what you have sewn.”

“I'm hopeful. I anguished over this. I did not plan this. I never had the imagination to conceive of any of this. I took it to be God's plan for me. And I've done nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Except pretending to be someone you're not”

I looked at her. “And whose idea was that, originally?” She cast her eyes down, ashamed. I lifted her chin to look her in the eyes as compassionately as I could. “Hey. I'm not blaming you. In fact, I think I'm thanking you. I believe we were both part of something much bigger than us. We both did what we were supposed to and it led us here. I'm happy. For the first time in my life, I realize. I had never been happy in my old life, but you don't know what you don't know. I never knew it until this new life, when I experienced happiness for the first time. I believe with every fiber of my being that this is my destiny and always has been. I have no idea where it will lead, but I believe God has a plan and I just need to trust in it. I will always be grateful to you, Felicity ...and even Chastity. You gave me my life, and I can't express my gratitude.”

I'm not sure she was ok with my path or her role in it, but my words did touch her. We locked in a tight, blubbering hug.

As she wiped the tears from her eyes, she smiled shyly at me “So I guess I won't ask if you've bought your bus ticket home?”

I smiled back. “I was thinking of moving in with my sister until I get settled. She won't be happy about it, but she won't turn me away. Luc starts school in the fall, and I can get a job – and a GED.... if someone can get me some paperwork.” I smiled back.

“I'm sure that can be arranged. Allison Crowe, huh? Female?”

“And 18 while you're at it.”

“What's one more lie?” she smiled.

“18 will make things much less complicated”

“And the last thing you want in your life is any ..complication!” she laughed.

I knew we were out of dangerous emotional territory, and even if she wasn't happy about it, Temperance was making her peace with my decision – and her role in it. We were good, the two of us.

The boys really wanted to explore bawdy San Francisco, I think partly out of boisterous boyishness but also because it made Chastity so uncomfortable and they found that an endless source of delight. The seven of us wandered around the Castro, with the boys wide eyed and slackjawed. Luc was amused. Photographing the gawking tourists and the unfazed locals. We ended up in a gay club watching a drag show. I must admit this was the first time I was self conscious.

“I can't believe they're not real girls!” Seth shouted over the throbbing music.

“They are kind of … more girl than girls. Yes?” Luc replied.

Just then this spectacular drag queen in a glamorous evening dress ran an opera gloved hand up Luc's cheek and said “Why don't you come with me and I'll show you how much more than girl.”

Luc laughed and thanked her for the offer, but said he came with his friends and he intended to leave with them. She looked us over, and seemed to stare at me particularly hard. “Your loss.” she smiled. She then sat her round behind on Jakob's lap thrusting his face into her 'cleavage' “How 'bout you Jethro? Are they all this sturdy back on the farm?”

It's Jakob, not Jethro. And how did you know I'm a farmer ,,,,ma'am?”

She shook her head. “Really? It was a joke. But you are.” she looked us over again. “Aren't you all a long way from home?”

“I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore” I quipped. She smiled. Relieved to find someone who got her sense of humor.

“Oh honey, you two never were.” She said to Luc and me. “How did you two hook up with the cast of little house?”

“It's a long story” I smiled.

“They all are. But I get paid to peddle drinks, so order a round and tell me about it.”

Jakob eagerly picked up the round of watery cocktails. I'm not sure he knew – or still knows – what a drag queen was. But Rumspringa was almost over and he just had someone smash their boobs in his face, so he was feeling generous. I was feeling a bit depressed. The drag queen had far bigger boobs and much fuller hips than I did. And a tiny wasp waist. She really was more girl than girls.

“Well, now that you've come to the pool party, slip off your shoes and jump in. Let's give you some stories to tell them back in Smallville!” as she pulled Jakob onto the dancefloor. He was grinning like an idiot. I began to worry for him. I pulled Luc to me and shouted in his ear. “He's a bit like a small child at a carnival. I worry that he will get swept up in the excitement and join the circus.” Luc nodded.

“Seth and Jakob said they already lost one of their party. We should keep him close.”

“Are you asking me to dance?” I smiled. He grabbed my hand and we hit the floor.

The drag queens were amused by the two of us, but unimpressed by me. I was a good foot shorter than any of them, far less glamorous, and a very boring dancer. They kept cutting in, making very seductive, suggestive dance moves with Luc who seemed amused as they would then step aside expecting me to mimic what they just tried to teach me. I halfheartedly copied them somehow turning the most lewd dance moves into something G-rated, and aware by the heat in my cheeks that I must have been blushing bright crimson. They were initially disappointed at my inability to 'vamp it up' but soon turned it into a game of 'how can Sandy Duncan wholesomize THIS move?' They were getting more and more forward with Luc and I was beginning to sense his increasing discomfort as things escalated, so I waved my hands in an 'I give up' gesture, smiled at the queens and gave a little mock-curtsey, taking a relieved Luc by the hand and leading him back to our table.

Our waitress, who I learned was “Lawauqa Chaime” complimented us on being good sports and model tourists, and joked that we should make an instructional YouTube when we get back to Smallville called 'how to behave at a drag club'. I mentioned that I wasn't sure Seth & Jakob understood where they were and she smiled. “We quickly figured that out. It happens. We're just having some fun with them. They'll be fine. And they seem to be enjoying themselves too... in their own, clueless way.” I suddenly got a strong mother hen vibe from our drag hostess, and I stopped worrying. “What about the rest of you? You're here, have some fun. It's open night mic. Ever do drag?” she looked at Luc, who looked at me. She then waved her hand at him. Ahh... you're too hunky anyway. Get back on the dancefloor and make the queens throw themselves at you. …..but YOU....” she stared at me. “Can you lipsync?” I just stared back like a deer in headlights. She knew. “The drag kings are on in about a half hour. Do you know any Elvis songs? Or Johnny Cash?” Wait. What did she say?

“Drag ….kings?”

“Oh honey, we're an equal opportunity drag club. Everybody gets their chance to blur the lines. What do you say?”

I blushed and smiled. “I... I don't think I could....” I couldn't stop smiling, but I felt I was being rude, so I brought my hand up to my mouth to cover my permasmile.

“BZZZZZT!” our hostess made a fail buzzer sound. “Forget it. You'd never pull it off. But if you ever want to pull a Victor Victoria, we could make a respectable queen out of you. A little short, but with a lot of padding and a little glitter we could turn you into a glamazon.”

I smiled, a little more relaxed this time. “Thanks. I'll keep that in mind”

She then sized up the other three girls and quickly focused on Chastity's stocky frame.
“You! You've done drag before. Am I right?”

Chas squirmed and turned bright red.

“I don't think our friend understands your question. She's pretty …..sheltered. She thought she would go to hell the first time we tried to talk her into wearing pants.” Felicity chirped.

While this was all true, only Chas and I knew of her day as Chaz, and I had no intention of spilling her secret.

“She's a bit of a wallflower. I can't see her standing on a stage dressed as a boy OR a girl.” I said.

“Too bad” Lawauqa said. “You'd make a fierce Roy Orbison” Chas shrugged and shot me a 'thank you' look. “Well, enjoy watching the show tourists. But if you just came to look, you coulda stayed in Kansas and ordered HBO.”

We had a fun but uneventful night. As we walked back to our hotel, Felicity quipped about one more memorable night they would never be able to talk about. Temperance teased Chastity for chickening out on the drag king open mic. Chastity shot back “I didn't see any of YOU racing to the stage”

“Y'know who would have been good? Levi.” Seth muttered. Jakob nodded. I suddenly became aware of sideways glances from all the other girls.

“He's the one you … lost?” Luc asked

“Broke is more like it” Jakob guffawed. “Those girls still won't say what they did to him, but he high tailed it home so fast..... he probably saw a little boobie and ran home to soap his eyes.” I was not amused by his stupid grin.

“Nah.” Seth said. “He'd make a lousy drag queen. He's too short. And way too shy. Did you see the way those drag queens were dancing with Luc? I can't imagine Levi doing that. Ha! Even Alison couldn't compete with them.”

“Will you please stop comparing me to drag queens? And can we change the subject?” I pleaded.

“And besides, he could never get into the club. He's too young.” Jakob mused.

“OK. It was a stupid idea.” Seth conceded. “But if he stayed, imagine how much fun we could have had with him over the last couple months.”

“As the butt of your jokes and pranks? Maybe that's why he ran away. Maybe it had nothing to do with the girls.” I said. Wait. Was I defending my former self for my fictional actions?

“Aaah. We'd just tease him. He loved the attention.” Seth retorted.

“Sounds like something a bully would say.” I shot back. The subject was quickly changed.

We spent another day hanging around San Francisco together, and it was a different experience for everyone. To Jakob and Seth, I was the girl they met at the mall and rode with to Chicago, to Luc I was spending the last days with people who shared a similar upbringing and saying a final farewell to any reminders of my old life. My three girlfriends knew this was our final goodbye and they were all at a bit of a loss as to what to make of the whole experience or the way it turned out. Swearing Chastity to secrecy was not a problem, because she felt what happens on Rumspringa is never to be talked or even thought about once one returns. I did try to get her to let go of some of the terrible guilt she felt about her part in 'killing Levi'. We all told her the only one who felt bad about this was her, and I for one thanked her for her unwitting part in this. I hoped she could learn to at least let it go, even if she could never be as positive about it as I was. Temperance and I devised a cover story as to why Levi never returned. While officially not being able to talk about Rumspringa, she will be the essence of calm and claim she knows Levi is safe, but by the rules of Rumspringa, she's not able to talk about it. She will privately assure my father that she knows I'm living with my sister in Chicago, and my failure to return was not turning my back on the community but my inability to turn my back on my sister who is all alone in the secular world. That is essentially the truth, with – as I become disturbingly good at – strategic omissions and misdirections that aren't outright untruths. Papa would know Constance and I are looking out for each other, and while I will miss him, I always sensed that he felt the burden of not being the father he wanted to be. He will no longer have that burden. And Tem promised to make clear that Connie and I will miss him dearly and keep him in our hearts and prayers, with an open invitation should he ever find himself in Chicago. While I think the odds of our quaint agrarian community starting its own space program are likelier than my dad ever making it to Chicago, should that remote possibility ever occur, I figure explaining my gender change would be one of the least unlikely obstacles.