Luc went home for a few weeks to visit with his family before returning for fall semester, and I showed up on Connie's doorstep. As expected, she was not happy to see me, but she didn't turn me away.

“So. Rumspringa's over and you're not going back?”

“How can I?”

She appraised me for a long time. “No. Of course you can't. Well life on this side of the divide is no Rumspringa vacation. I want you to know that from the start.”

“I never thought it would be.” I replied. By 'the divide' I thought she meant the gender divide. She didn't.

“The secular world is both better and worse than the world we grew up in. We were so sheltered. And Rumspringa can only hint at the differences.”

“Do you regret leaving?”

“.............No. …..I may have thought I did once or twice..... but that was just homesickness....... or maybe nostalgia..... I miss Mama........”

“I'm sorry.” I hung my head.

“Oh my God, NO!” She ran to me and wrapped me in her arms. “You were a baby. You had nothing to do with it.”

“I had everything to do with it. She died having me.”

“But... it's not your FAULT. My God. You were a newborn! God's will was done and you were a part of it, but you had no say and you have no responsibility! Is that really how you feel?”

“It's always how I felt with papa. I know when he looked at me, he saw her. And it made him miss her. So he would have as little to do with me as possible. I understood. I never took it personally. But it still made me hurt knowing I brought him such pain.”

She hugged me tighter. “Oh, you poor fucked up kid. I feel awful leaving you. I never knew you were carrying this shit around.” I laughed. Which broke the tension.

“What's so funny?” she smiled.

“You” I sheepishly grinned. “I've never heard you curse.”

Connie blushed. “You ain't heard nothing yet. Oh, kiddo. This world is SO different from everything you know.”

“Then I'm glad I have you. I can't imagine the kids who venture out alone …..like you did”

She hugged me tighter. “It was a helluva shock, but I got over it. I'm ok now. My life is …..good.”

“Do you miss any of it?”

“I miss you.... MISSED you.... and papa.... though he was never really close.... I think some of that distance you felt.... it wasn't you.... he was just never very good with people.... except with mama..... maybe it's because she was SO good with people that it made up for him being not so good, so between them they were a great match, even if it was 80% her and 20% him, they were each bringing everything they had to the relationship, and between them, it was 100%.”

“I never thought of it that way”

“Why would you? You never knew her.”

“I know. I wish I did.”

She smiled sadly. “The funny thing is. You are so much like her. And now.... like this....” she swept her hand over me “....you even fucking LOOK like her. ...More than I ever did!”

I put my finger to her lips and clucked my tongue. “When was the last time you tasted a bar of soap?” I chided.

Her eyes went wide ….and sad. “Jesus Christ you even fucking SOUND like her. Oh God. Thank God you were born a boy. This would have killed papa. It's just too much.” Suddenly she got all distant.

“OK. Levi. You're my guest until you get settled in this world, and I'm happy to help. But you are my houseguest. And I am your big sister. And YOU are my little brother! Throw your stuff in the closet. The futon is your bed unless you want to sleep on my yoga mat. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, I have to go shopping.” She abruptly grabbed her coat and left.

I tried to process what just happened. We were bonding. Beginning to make up for the lost decade since she left. She got all nostalgic, teared up talking about mama, and regarded me so warmly then her gaze slowly turned to something else.... something cold. She tersely welcomed me and abruptly left.

I knocked around her studio apartment, quickly realizing that it would be cramped for one person, and I just doubled the occupancy by showing up on her doorstep. I wondered when Connie would be back... if it was something I did that caused her to storm off... and what that might have been so I could apologize for any unwitting offense and try to avoid it in the future. I was a grateful houseguest and I didn't want to put her out any more than I needed to. I tried to earn my keep by cleaning the dishes in the sink, sponging down the spattered kitchen appliances, and picking up some of the clutter around the apartment. I was beginning to realize that my sister was a bit of a slob.

I found some cottage cheese in the fridge and discovered the TV remote in the pocket of the futon. I was exploring her endless cable selection when I finally settled on some melodrama on Lifetime. Figuring out her TV remote was way easier than figuring out her thermostat, so I grabbed a comforter out of her closet and settled in to watch the movie.

I heard her keys in the door, but she was in before I could get up. She stood in the doorway observing me. I don't know why, but she made me feel very guilty. I just had no idea why.

I put the cottage cheese on the end table, threw off the comforter, muted the movie and came to the door to help her.... noticing a bunch of bags behind her. She looked at me wryly and shook her head.

“Just keep a tab of everything I eat and I'll pay you back as soon as I get work.” I said as I walked to the door to notice they weren't grocery bags.

“This ends now.” she said sadly. Walking to the bathroom, she took a box of cosmetic wipes and threw them my way. “Take that shit off and get dressed like a boy.”

I don't know why she was so angry, but it was her house, and I was her guest. I didn't particularly want to take of my makeup, but I didn't view it as a big deal. She was having a bad day, and if me going nakedface would make it better, I was ok with that. When I came out with my freshly cleaned face, she was no happier. She walked up to me and ran fingers across my cheeks and eyelids, even stroking my pursed lips. I felt like it was some kind of inspection, and I was not passing.

“Christ, you still look like a girl. Those clothes don't help.” She opened one of the bags she brought back and tossed me a button down shirt and pair of tan dockers. As I was walking away to change she called to me. I turned around to see her dangling a new pair of boxers on her finger. “I don't suppose.....?” she started to say when I smiled sheepishly. “Of course not.” She balled them up and threw them at me. While I was changing in the bathroom, Connie informed me that she was leaving shoes and socks by the door. When I walked out into her apartment she scowled, eyed me long and hard and finally muttered “...the hair.... it's gotta be the hair”. She tossed me a Cubs cap. I put it on, pulling my hair through the back.

“No!” she shouted. “Lose the hair!”

I looked at her with alarm. Did she want me to cut off my hair? She must have read my mind.

“….under the cap!” Phew. I quickly wrapped it into a bun while she watched, shaking her head. I pulled the hat on over my head, stuffing the stray hairs up. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“What?” I genuinely didn't know what she meant. Connie scowled.

“Wrap your hair into a bun like that?”

“I dunno. I've always done it that way. It just seems the easiest way to get it out of the way, and when I wrap it like that, it stays in place better.” She frowned and shook her head.

“No one showed you?”

“Showed me what?”

“You just always put your hair up that way?”

“No. I almost never put my hair up. I like it down. It's hot like this. Like layering blankets. But when I need to get it out of the way, this is what I'd always do.”

“Always? You mean back on the farm? Your hair was that long back on the farm?”

“Not always. But mostly. Papa would always find excuses not to cut my hair, or pretty much spend any time with me. And when I tried to do it myself, everyone called me 'scarecrow' so I just let it grow. Eventually they stopped calling me scarecrow. But they did start calling me 'Samson', so I started tying it up under my hat. I think everyone knew it was there, but they stopped teasing me. They didn't ask, and I didn't tell.” Connie snorted. “What?”

“Nevermind. You wouldn't get it. OK. Step over here. Let's have a look at you.” She stared disapprovingly as I walked to the center of the room. “Don't sway your arm. Are you slouching?”

“I dunno. Maybe. This makes me feel kind of..... depressed.”

“Good. Slouching works. Makes you look more like a boy.”

I smiled sadly, thinking of brooding Chaz. Great.

“Turn around. All the way around.” I did.

“Oh for crying out loud, move your feet! Don't turn on the balls of your feet like a freaking showgirl!”

I was trying to be a good houseguest and dutiful little brother and do as she asked, but everything I did made her yell at me more. I could feel my eyes starting to well up from the frustration and disappointment. “Oh for God's sake, don't start to CRY!....” She handed me some tissues. “Jesus, you are such a GIRL!” I couldn't completely repress the smile, but I tried. “This is not FUNNY! You are not a girl. You are a boy. Start behaving like one!”

“I really am trying. I always tried. My whole life I tried. It's always been a struggle. Watching the boys.... how they stand... how they sit... the way they carry themselves.... but seeing someone do something and learning how to do it yourself... it isn't easy. My whole life I tried to do every little thing on purpose the way others did it. Whenever I would get distracted and do something without thinking, I'd get laughed at and teased. I got good at thinking about everything.... but never so good at actually doing it.” I had forgotten this feeling. That fatigue of having to second guess everything. I hadn't felt that exhausting weight since..... that evening at the mall.

Connie frowned. “You still look like a tomboy. Well, it's a start. You hungry?” I shrugged and looked over to the cottage cheese. “That's not food. That's garnish.” she tacked on a cheerful smile. “C'mon, you're in Chicago! Let's go get some deep dish.”

I did not feel comfortable in the pizza place, there were big screens showing sports everywhere, and it was noisy and rowdy.

“You a Cubs fan miss?” The waiter asked. Connie scowled.

“It's my sisters.” I looked apologetic.

“My LITTLE BROTHER is visiting from out of town. I let HIM wear my Cubs cap so HE'D feel more at home.” she painfully explained to the waiter. Who wasn't hearing a word.

“OK. Great. Here are your menus ladies. Can I get you any drinks?”

Connie sighed loudly, “Diet coke for me. Levi?”

“Yes Constance?” I glared at her.

“...Sorry. Lee.... what would you like to drink?”

“Can I just have a water?” Connie was shaking her head.

“My BROTHER will have a large chocolate shake. And an order of chili fries.”

“Are you trying to make me throw up in your hat? Because I will.” The waiter seemed to find this funny.

“I'm paying for this meal, so I'M ordering. Now GO.” she motioned for him to leave. This just made him smile harder.

He leaned in to me “is this some kind of sorority hazing?” he whispered. I couldn't hold back the giggle. He winked at me and went away. This only made Connie angrier.

“Dammit Lee. This isn't funny!” I disagreed. It was preposterous. “Jesus Christ, you look like a starving urchin. Are you even a hundred fucking pounds?” This got the smile from my face. I hated it when she cursed. “And between your small frame and fair features, you look like you're eleven!” I shrugged. I'd always been smaller than the other kids, everyone back home just took for granted that I was a slow developer. Connie was trying to push things. I learned long ago that pushing just made things more frustrating, but it looked like she was going to have to learn this for herself, so I tried to be patient.

Finally she stopped trying to force feed me and we took the rest of the food home.

“I think you have an eating disorder. You're too skinny.”

“I think you're the one with the eating disorder. You were trying to fatten me up like a goose. I eat when I'm hungry, and I bet I'm at least as healthy as you are.”

“Don't lecture me little brother.” She was up to something, but I didn't know what. Turned out it was a trip to the mall where she took me to the haircutting place and argued with the girl who didn't want to cut off all my long hair. Connie was insistent. The girl relented, looking to me to help her argue against it. I was just trying to keep it together because I knew I was this close to bursting into tears and making an awful scene.

“Get in the chair 'Samson'!” Connie joked, trying to make light of the tense situation.

“...As you wish... Delilah.” I sighed. That shut her up. She didn't speak to me again until after we got home and she was back on her own turf.

My only consolation about the trauma of the “shearing” was that after the girl gave me the 'boy cut' that Connie insisted on, she turned to me and said “I was getting ready to call social services. I thought it was so cruel to cut off all that lovely hair, but I have to admit you have one of those magic faces. I don't know how your sister saw it, but she was right. You look just like that movie star!”

Connie's eyes lit up.

“Which one?” I asked with a quivering lip, dreading the answer.

“Oh, you know, the one from all those old black and white movies on TV? Roman Holiday, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Sabrina...”

“Audrey Hepburn?” I beamed.

“Yes! That's the one!” She grabbed her phone. “May I get some pictures? We have to add this to our stylebook. Take THAT Supercuts!”

I beamed for the camera and giggled. Connie just rolled her eyes.

When we got back to her home, I thanked her again for taking me in and got ready for bed. I really meant it, even though I hated the way she was treating me. I knew she was doing what she thought was right, and no matter how much I disagreed with her, the only one who could change her mind was her. I just prayed it would happen soon.

“Wait a minute. What is that?”

“It's a T-shirt.”

“A BOY's T-shirt?” I nodded. Actually, it was Luc's soft old Pernod Absynthe tee and it was way too big for me. She yanked it off me. “Well, it's swimming on you. It looks like a sleepdress! Boxers only. Sleep like a boy goddamit! Wait. What are those?”

“My feet?”

“Those toes are going first thing in the morning. Is there ANYTHING about you I don't have to un-girl?” I shrugged. “Now go to bed and we'll fix the rest in the morning.”

I didn't sleep well. I kept waking up from the same dream. It wasn't the sex dream. It was the dream where I was being chased by the gang of boys in sports jerseys. I'd always get myself into a dead end or corner and wake up in a cold sweat. I'd get myself a glass of water, have a pee, and try to get back to sleep.

The next morning Connie seemed calmer. I was up when she rose. Maybe the smell of the coffee woke her up, but I couldn't sleep anyway, so as soon as I saw daylight through the window, I started making breakfast. I was sure she would at least remember sunrise breakfasts from the farm. I used to make breakfast for papa every morning then excuse myself while he ate and headed off to morning chores. At least with Connie I hoped I could sit with her during breakfast without the awkward tension.

She staggered out to the kitchenette rubbing her eyes. I smiled hopefully at her. Preparing breakfast was one thing I always did as a boy, so I hoped she would appreciate that I was trying to be who she wanted me to be. I couldn't tell from her face how she took my gesture.

“How did you sleep?” she asked groggily, I shrugged. She looked at me for an uncomfortably long time. “Well, the futon's not the most comfortable. It would be worse if you were taller.” She continued to stare at me. “So did you get up during the night?”

“A few times” I answered trying to make it sound like no big deal. What did she hear last night?

“Have a pee?” ….Odd question.

I nodded. “A few times. Must have been the milkshake.” She snorted. She kept staring.

“…..well....... thanks for putting the seat back down.” I blushed a little. That was what she was waiting for. “OK. I just don't get it! You ARE a BOY goddamit!” and she reached out and pulled down my boxers.

I was mortified and recoiled into a kind of fetal position. She immediately regretted her brash outburst, I could tell. But my shock and embarrassment outweighed any compassion I had for her.

“Connie! Constance! How COULD you?”

She regained her composure and tried to keep up her righteous attitude. “It's nothing I haven't seen before. I used to change you, remember?” Then she stared at my nakedness. “It's just as I remember it.”

I blushed. This was beyond embarrassing.

“....actually, it's exactly the way I remember it. I would have thought it would be ...bigger... by now.”

“Can I die now? Please?” Finally, her shame caught up to her. She muttered “Sorry” and rushed out of the room.

To say things were awkward between us would be an understatement. Finally, she broke the ice.

“So. Do you want to tell me about it?”

“What?”

“The dreams. You do know that you talk in your sleep don't you?” I had always wondered, but hoped it was just my imagination. I shook my head. “Who were you running from?”

“Boys.”

“What boys?”

I shrugged. “No boys in particular. Just a bunch of jocks in sports jerseys.”

“Why are they chasing you?” I shrugged. “What happens when they catch you?”

“I don't want to find out. I know that. It's terrifying, but I always wake up just as they catch me.”

“Is this a dream or did it really happen?” she asked.

I shrugged, I really didn't remember. “All I know is it feels real. Everytime.”

“You have this dream a lot?” I nodded. “All the time?” I shook my head. It just dawned on me.

“Not for the past month and a half.” Connie gave me a hard look, trying to decide whether I was trying to pull something.

“So while you were Alison, you didn't have dreams?”

“Of course I had dreams.”

“Not this dream.” I shook my head. She raised an eyebrow. “Any OTHER recurring dreams?” I went crimson. Once again, my body betrays me. She took this in and thought for a long while.

“You know you suck at being a boy?”

I scowled. “....I really DO try....”

“I know you do sweetie. But let's face it, I make a better boy than you do.” My laugh sounded bitter, though I don't think I felt bitter. Just …....bemused.

“Sorry about everything. Especially the hair. But it will grow back. I'll stop trying to make you something you obviously are not.... no matter how hard you try. If it's any consolation, until your hair grows out, you make a pretty hot dyke.” I didn't find that consoling at all, but she was making an effort so I smiled weakly. Maybe now we could stop fighting.

I thanked God that she stopped trying to make me into the little brother she missed growing up with and started accepting me for the sibling she never really knew. That we could work on. Levi was always just an illusion, so she couldn't bring him back. But I was real, and once she accepted that, we worked on making up for all those lost years.

I found she was a lot like my father, only without the brooding. She was headstrong and slow to come around, but once you won her to your side, she was steadfast. She described herself as a pitbull. I think she was proud of it. I agreed that her personality traits could be a great asset – as long as she directed them toward the right things. Loyalty is a noble trait, stubbornness is a character flaw.

She told me about Mama. My father never talked about her, and I learned early not to ask, so hearing Connie's stories were a delight I couldn't get enough of. She kept mentioning how much I reminded her of mama. That made me proud and sad at the same time, because I desperately wish I could have known her, but felt so privileged to hear that I had so much of her in me.

As siblings, and eventually I guess for all intents and purposes as sisters, we got along famously. Each goading the other to be better people than we would have been on our own. I really overstayed my welcome, but Connie didn't seem to mind. I picked up some odd jobs here and there, doing catering and house cleaning, so I wasn't a complete parasite. Still, I knew I had to get out and make a life of my own. And give her back her own.

Luc had been back at school for a couple months now, and even though we lived within 50 miles of each other, we hadn't met face to face since his return. We did wear out our phones with mushy calls and racy txts, we even had a few facetime and skype calls, which proved tricky.

The reason I avoided seeing Luc was because Connie's 'bring back the boy' obsession had made me really unpresentable. Even she conceded I never really made a convincing boy, but the short hair and boy clothes made me look like one of those Drag Kings from the club we visited in SF.

When Connie finally relented and let me live as Ali again, I still had a lot of hair to grow back. I got it to a Miley Cyrus pixie quickly enough, but this wasn't a look I wanted to share with Luc.

I saved up and bought a wig that was a close enough color and length that it looked like my own hair – if I hadn't washed or styled it for weeks. I figured it would be good enough for facetime or skype calls, as long as I kept the lighting behind me and found a bad enough net connection that the picture quality was always poor.

This worked well enough that Luc never noticed – or was too polite to say anything. He was busy with school and editing his summer project, and I was busy picking up whatever piecemeal work I could find and looking for a real job, so it was kind of a relief that we weren't officially 'an item'. Much as we missed each other, neither of us had time for socializing.

I suggested that we use this time to play the field, meet other people and see what else was out there. Summer was a whirlwind and we both fell hard. I suggested we take time off to try out other people, and if after exploring other options, the chemistry was still overwhelming, we could get back together and be even stronger, having removed any nagging 'what-if's from our mind.

Luc agreed a bit too readily, though I got the strong impression that he also wanted to use this 'hiatus' not as an excuse to see other people, but to get out of socializing and focus on other things. As it turned out, neither of us ever really tested the other fish in the sea option. We both knew we had found the one, and were just happy for the time off.

I needed to turn my attention to getting documented and finding a fulltime job. Constructing my new life out of whole cloth.