Everyone deserves some relaxation time.

Chapter 9
Sleepovers and Free Days

This Chapter dedicated to my father, who hasn't read any of this yet. And believe it or not knows more about Sondhiem, Rodgers & Hammerstein, Porter, and Gershwin that any other straight man on Earth. Power to the Ferrets.

Elan Owen - Part 9: Sleepovers and Free Days

by Jesse Rabbit

Eventually the events of the day caught up to us, as they inevitably had to, so we settled ourselves into our PJ's, curled up under my comforter, and did - I know, its almost unthinkable - did our homework. It turns out that I'd missed practically nothing, and even if I had our text books are hot linked to some really helpful net-nodes. I know its sacrilege to the great brother (or sister) hood of kids, but I actually don't mind doing homework. Karen and I always make it a race, who can finish first with the most right, but we almost always stop to help each other out so it's usually a tie. And the upside is that we usually finish really fast.

That night we finished in about 45 minutes and were just basking in the warm glow of the idea of having all our homework done and still getting to skip school the next day. Now, I know what you're saying, going to school is optional, but if we didn't our parents would go post-nuclear, and the school would call, and our grades would suffer, and we'd never get into high school or college and then we'd be stuck, working on labor farms like all the other people who aren't qualified to do anything. Dad says, and I know I'm way off topic here, but he says that in his day fast food restaurants used to be staffed by more than a technician and a programmer.

But that was like before I was born, and anyway my dad sometimes says things like, and you will have to imagine the billion year old man voice that he uses, "You know, back in my day we didn't have none of this fancy-dancy Oxy Gen! We had to breath other stuff, like Mud! Or Sparrows, or Water! And let me tell you boy! Sparrows don't like to be breathed, no sir!" or "You know, Back in my day we didn't have none of this Gravity! We had to make do with suction cups! Like an octopus. In fact we had to hunt down octopus just so we could harvest their suckers and hope they didn't wear out before we got home from school! Course, in my day our schools were actually factories where we were beaten with sticks and forced to make second-rate tennis shoes with our bare hands which were bleeding from the hard work!" I told you my family was mental.

Anyway, we were just lying there, listening to the new Mad Monarchs album, "My Favorite Ragnarok" (I love Fever Pony, it rocks, but some kids at school are like, Outer Metal is so dead, it's all Arsenal Blues or Spazz Bop now.) when Karen, who's using my stomach as a pillow, which I kinda hate, but she does it anyway, turns to look up at me - through the mountains of my new breasts, ha, ha - and says "Wanna talk about it?"

Being the super genius that I am my response was - of course - stunningly witty and erudite. I said "Uh?"

Karen poked me in the side, which I really hate, but she does it anyway. "Elan, I'm serious!"

"I'm sure you are, but what are you talking about. And don't poke me!"

She - of course - poked me, again, harder this time. "Elan! About what happened! With the police and the psychopath?"

I thought about it and was really surprised to find that I really, really, really didn't want to talk about it. I really didn't. I didn't even want to think about it. I shook my head, but even I was unsure whether that was to clear it or to say no, cause Karen asked, concern evident in her voice "You sure?"

I blinked and thought some more. What I finally realized is that I had talked about everything that had ever happened to me with Karen. She probably knew more about me than I did, and I probably knew more about her than she did. Not talking about it with her seemed wrong, it seemed like some kind of betrayal, of what we were together. And not only that, but the idea that something was wrong to talk about just seemed fundamentally wrong, as if not talking about it was as bad as letting Diamond get away with whatever he was planning on doing. My mother told me once that hurt can only grow in dark places, that pain withers when exposed to fresh air. I remembered that then and realized that what she had meant was that if I didn't talk about it, it would grow inside me, becoming ever harder to express and to get over. But if I talked about it then it would be a memory and nothing more, something that happened once upon a time.

So I nodded and smiled. It wasn't the best smile by a long shot, but it was a smile. And to the strains of Philis Waverly's exquisite electric guitar work and the heartbreak of Maxim Jushesvili and Eric Pastor on percussion I told Karen everything. All the events as I've related them here I told her, but all in this drained monotone. It told her a confused jumble of emotions and images and scenes, all in a stream of consciousness, the events all swirled and confused and out of sequence. I remember that as I told her about my encounter with the Trio my sound system was pumping out "Subtext for a Sunset" and it was just so perfect, the hard hammering of drums one moment, the long scream of the cello the next, the shrill of the flute as the light fades down. It was breathtaking and when I was done and the song was done I was silent all throughout "Standing before the Wavefront", letting the sound sweep me away as it was intended to do.

I remember an article last year in Rolling Stone Magazine, which I only got cause Mad Monarchs was on the cover again. My Favorite Ragnarok was coming out in two days, no-one on the planet had heard any of the new songs besides the first cut "Sky like Cellophane" which had kinda eaten the top slot on the charts for about fifteen weeks. This reviewer - Kathleen Kross - was the only one who had heard the rest of the album, and she began the article by saying, "Damn, that Bitch can play." And wow can Philis play, "Standing before the Wavefront" is like a wall of guitar noise. It just blasts you back out of your head and you hang suspended before the tidal wave of music. You can tell I love this album, huh?

So after that break 'cause you just cannot talk over that song, I continued. I laid it all out there, but for the second half I felt better, like a switch had been thrown and I was telling a story and not reliving a nightmare. I finally finished up - with the medtech's exam and the detective's interview - during "Poetry of Horror" which is oddly apropos. I looked down at Karen, expecting her to be ready with a long list of comments, but she just smiled, sat up, rolled off the bed, and grabbed my arm.

I blinked in confusion and a little annoyance. I'd just poured my soul out and she was acting goofy. My face must have betrayed some of my emotions 'cause she just laughed and said, "Which song's next?"

I blinked and said, " The World is Dying, Why Not Dance?" realizing what she was getting at about halfway through the word World. So we danced, and we danced, and by the end of the song we were laughing together again.

We collapsed on the bed, laughing and gasping for air, all it took to keep either of us going was a look at the other. We laughed until our sides hurt and then I pounced on Karen and tickled her until she gave up.

After the laughter had subsided once more we looked at each other and said "Snacks!" so we pounded down the stairs, trying our hardest to sound like a stampede of bison, and it must have worked because both mom and dad cried out "Keep it down!" from the vid-room. We raided the kitchen and took our haul back up to my lair. Did I mention that Ben & Jerry's rules? Well, it does, and so do ding-dongs, and Pringles, and Orange Coke (Karen likes Vanilla, she's so weird.).

Around a mouthful of ding-dong, or maybe it was a zebra-cake, Karen asked "Fo, whaa ya ga oo ow?" which I took to mean "So, whatcha gonna do now?" isn't friendship grand, it allows translation of gibberish.

I shrugged, "I'm too tired to use the playstation, so maybe we can watch some vids and open my presents till we fall asleep?" I looked over at her to gauge her reaction.

She had that annoyed look that she reserved for times when she felt I was being an idiot. She chewed faster and threw a stuffed cabbit (Cat-rabbit for those who don't know) at me to hold me over until she could scold me verbally. With a swallow that made her look a little like an ostrich she finished her junk-food mouthful and grunted "Elan! I meant about the watch, about being a girl!"

I shrugged, "Deal with it?"

She sighed and shook her head "How? You don't have ID as a girl, you look different and while your parents didn't notice while you were dressed differently tonight, they might notice when you are dressed like you. And what happens if your titties start to really develop or you have a period. Elan! You have to think about these things!"

I just looked at her dumbfounded. "De-de-develop? Period?"

I'm afraid my mind fried a little then cause I just fainted, well not really, but I did fall back into my pillows and pretend to faint so that Karen would freak out, but I think I may have done it wrong cause she just kicked my in the leg and said "You big faker!" but I was good, I didn't move at all, so she began to tickle my foot. It was really - REALLY - hard to keep from laughing but I managed it, barely.

She finally leaned over me and said "Elan?" but I didn't respond.

In my mind I was thinking "Come closer, Karen? Closer-- closer-- closer!"

As she finally got close enough I grabbed her and gave her a zerbert on her neck, which caused her to squeal and thump me. When she got free she hit me with a pillow until I cried auntie.

"Elan! This is serious. You've got 364 more days of this, right? And that's assuming your grandpa transforms you back at the end of the year." I grunted cause it was all I could do with Karen sitting on my chest, which I found hurt a little, my nipples were kinda sore.

"Elan! Are you listening to me?"

I shook my head and mouthed "Need Air!"

When she finally relented and fell backwards off of me into the pillows, I pretended to gasp for breath and rubbed my sore chest.

Karen noticed and said softly, "What's wrong, Elan?"

"My chest is sore. I think they may be infected."

With a blink and a muffled chortle, Karen dissolved into peals of laughter. I was forced to hit her with a pillow several times to get her to stop long enough to tell me what was so funny.

"It means they are growing!" she crowed and went back to her sadistic laughter fest. Why is it that your friends always find the most humor in things that annoy you?

To kill time while Karen laughed herself sick, I flipped open The Watch just to see if Grandpa had any other gems of aggravation to throw my way. I was only marginally surprised when his holo-head appeared as before and he gave that all to familiar chuckle of his.

"Quite a day you've had, huh, kiddo? Right now I'm betting that you've told your friend Karen all about it and she's teasing you mercilessly. I'm also figuring that you've given some thought to the matter and you've decided not to tell your parents for one reason or another. I'm further guessing that you've figured out that you might have some problems keeping it all secret and that you'll have problems with ID. Well, I've decided to be nice and help with one of your problems. ID."

I was actually surprised that Karen hadn't noticed anything but then I remembered that only I could hear the old coot. I was also wondering just how complete of a profile my grandfather had on me, Karen, and everyone else for that matter. I began wondering if I could find those profiles, 'cause they might be interesting, but first, ID.

"As you know Elan, we own IdentiCorp, having invented the technology that allows IdentiCards to work in the first place. So if you'd be so good as put your IdentiCard in your card reader and when prompted, type in whatever name you've been using, we'll straighten it all out. We'll get you a card that changes when you do. Press the Yes button when you are finished."

Karen did notice when I hopped off the bed and pulled my IdentiCard from my wallet. I heard her feet hit the floor behind me and her padding over behind me as I sat down at my computer station. "Whatcha doin?"

"Solving the problem of ID. I told Miss Pertry that my name was Elayne Grace, so I think my ID should say that, what do you think?"

"Huh? How can you-- ?"

I shrugged, "Grandpa owns--owned IdentiCorp, although I think it's gone to my Uncle now."

"Really? Whoa! So can you get me an ID that says I'm twenty-one?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!!!!!!"

"No."

"I'll be your best friend?"

"You are my best friend already."

"Oh yeah. Never mind then."

"I never do."

The reader dinked, and ejected my card, which now read Elayne Colleen Grace and said that I was female. I put it back in my wallet and pressed the Yes button. I nearly jumped out of my skin when grandpa's voice filled my room, coming from my speakers.

"I've tapped into your sound system, Elayne, so that Karen can hear what I have to say. I want you two to think of this as an adventure, a voyage of discovery, of self-discovery. See, I've come to the conclusion that humans should be free to choose who and what they are, and to that end I spent the better part of my life designing the system that powers that watch of yours. I think that it would be better if humans were born without gender and developed into whichever gender they wanted to be during puberty. Well, I wasn't consulted on the whole gender issue, so I've come up with this plan.

"Elan, at the end of the year you get to pick which you want to be, boy, girl, both, neither, or whatever. See the machine has little problem changing you back and forth because you aren't fully mature. But an adult would take about ten minutes to change and it would be physically painful to do so. So you will have to pick eventually, if nothing else so that your body can develop naturally. At the end of the year you will get to decide what you want to be and then you will have to stay that way most of the time for at least ten years.

"Now, you've also discovered that the watch has some other interesting abilities. Some of these are happy byproducts of the transformation process, such as the healing ability and the panic mode. I will leave you to discover any others on your own. Now, the healing system does have its limitations, it cannot bring you back from the dead and it cannot heal anyone else, unfortunately. It can and will keep you completely disease-free for your entire life, which will probably end some day, but -- with a system that can repair all cellular damage, organ damage, and rewrite your genetics and body configuration -- I have no idea when that might be. Now I've never tested just how much damage the watch can repair at once, so I wouldn't push it. Be careful kiddo, and remember, I did this because I love you. And Karen?"

I giggled when Karen actually responded, "Yes?" cause grandpa is-- HOLY SHIT! I'd just realized that the watch system makes someone almost immortal and lets them be almost anybody. Grandpa was still alive! While I was coming to this revelation, I heard grandpa, that big faker, ask Karen if she would like a Watch too, and if so she should double click the Yes button.

Karen poked me "What Yes button?" so I held up my wrist, and she nearly broke my wrist hitting that button twice.

Grandpa resumed "Very well, Please allow sometime for delivery. And remember you are bound to secrecy, too, young lady. And B-T-W, because I know how you kids can be, I've rigged the watch to keep you from getting pregnant or getting anyone else pregnant until you turn 26, so have fun, enjoy, and I'll not be seeing you. Although I might have some messages for you from time to time. Good-bye."

"Liar, you're alive!" I cried out before the image could fade completely.

The image stabilized and then grew stronger. "Shhhh, don't tell anyone! Just consider it retirement. And anyway, how could you prove it. Always knew you were quick, kiddo. Love the PJ's, Karen." And then the image faded again.

Karen and I looked at each other and then blushed deeply and screamed, cause we were both naked still. "OOOO! Dirty old man!" we said in unison.

***

We finally settled down and watched some episodes of Star Trek: Infinity, although we were mostly too tired to pay any attention. We curled up in bed under a light blanket and snuggled. We'd not come to any decision about what to do about keeping it all a secret, but we'd decided that a boy's hair cut, some baggy clothes and a touch of make-up would have to do to disguise me as a boy for school. Since Karen and I are almost exactly the same size it was decided that I could wear some of her stuff when I needed girl's clothing.

It was also decided that we would not become kid detectives like all those kids in young teen books who end up solving plots against this that or the other world power by this that or the other secret society of evil. So if we accidentally came across a secret cabal set on world domination we would just ignore it. The last thing we decided before we fell asleep was that we would go to the beach tomorrow, seeing as how we had the day free, and then maybe go shopping. It was a good plan, and we were still talking about it when we fell asleep.

***

The alarm rang way too early because I had forgotten to reset it, and I was just reaching over to turn it off and fall back asleep when Karen shot bolt upright and punched the button for me, bumping me in the nose with her shoulder. I blinked in pain and covered my nose, already I could feel the blood beginning to flow, but before I could so much as get out of the bed before I got blood on it, The Watch beeped and my nose tingled. I sneezed twice and then had to go wash the blood off my hands, but that was it. I guess the watch is good for something.

Karen had, of course, fallen back asleep but I was wide awake, so I figured that it was a good idea to wake her up to so we could get an early start on the day. Fun takes lots of time and we had to go over to her house to get suits. The question was, how to wake her up: there was ice, water, ice-water, tickle torture, licking her ear, or sound. If it had been her bed, I might have gone with some combination of ice and or water. Tickle torture and licking both carried the risk of being hit, so I chose sound.

I went onto my computer and grabbed a copy of ICBM's song, "Turf Puppets" which is like the worst, most annoying song ever, off the net and dropped it into my sound system. I then covered my ears with my editing headphones which block out all outside noise and cranked the volume, once again mentally thanking my parents for sound-proofing my room. I pressed play.

Karen levitated out of the bed like her hair was on fire, looking round wildly as she half-stumbled, half-fell out of bed, landing on top of my new Blossom, the Power Puff Girl plushie. She thrashed about, trying to get free of the sheet which she had dragged off with her and when she couldn't she just crawled over to where I was sitting at the Computer station and shouted something at me while trying to mash my feet with her fists. I laughed and laughed but finally, once the song ended, turned it off and removed the headphones.

"Yes?" I asked, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"You are sooooooo dead!!"

I laughed and made her promise not to kill me in exchange for me helping her out of the sheet. Twenty minutes later we left for Karen's, after getting dressed for the first time that day and a quick breakfast prepared for us by the always bemused Miss Wei, our cook / personal fortune cookie. My parents used to eat a lot of Chinese food back in college so when they hired a cook they made sure she was Chinese but still knew how to make bacon and eggs. Miss Wei is always smiling, she's like sixty and has fourteen kids, but they are long grown up and most of them live in L.A. or Sandy Eggo. She likes kids, likes cooking, and likes video games which she absolutely sucks at, it's incredible how bad she can be, but she never gives up or gets bored.

Karen's house is insane, and deliberately so. Her moms are very into Dali and Escher so the whole house looks like a cross between melting clocks and impossible stair cases. They have like fifteen waterfalls inside the house and a strange clock on literally every wall. They have sculptures of impossible objects, pictures of impossible objects, and books about impossible objects. Their dogs, who I've mentioned before, are named Abroz and Zorba. Abroz is a chocolate Dalmatian (black with white spots) and Zorba is a German Shepherd who thinks he is a cat. I'm not kidding, he likes to climb trees and lie down on whatever you are reading.

Terry (22), Jamie (17), and Alex (13) are Karen's brothers and each has his own personal suite of rooms including a bedroom, a personal room, and a bathroom. Terry uses his personal room as a love nest, it's sooo tacky. Jamie uses his as a studio, he's a painter like Linda, Karen's life-mother. And Alex uses his as a meditation room / dojo. He's really into martial arts. I think he has like three or four black belts, but when I ask he only says that he's got a plaid belt in Mi-Kicki-You-Faci, and he always wears a white belt, which I think means he's a beginner.

Karen uses her personal room to keep all her books in. Karen can read a book as fast as she can turn the pages, it's soo creepy, so she's read like two books every day since she was like three. She buys books from used book stores in bulk and she prints out and saves every story she reads on line; she says she can't scroll down fast enough. She even has a catalog of everything she's ever read, with ratings and short reviews. Some stuff, which she's read more than once she has full length reviews. She's just started doing book reviews for the San Fran Reporter. She says that way she gets free books and some pocket money which she gives to charity cause her allowance is huge! She gets money for lunch, money for clothes, and spending money. But she only gets it once each year, on her birthday, so she has to budget it all and she's not allowed to use money for one thing on another and has to save all the receipts for clothes and food.

***

As we dashed into Karen's house we almost collided with Sanna, Karen's other mother, the plastic surgeon, who was getting the newspaper and dressed only in a very light nightie and an equally light robe. Sanna is really nice, but a little intense. She dresses like a "Punk Rocker" and listens to Heavy Metal when she's relaxing but listens to classic and dresses like a "Square" when she is at work. Her hair is really spiky, kinda like Bart Simpson, but a little longer. I can't believe they got Michael Brosnan to play Bart in the new movie, he's too cool to play Bart. If you didn't see him in "James Bond Junior: The School is Not Enough", you should, it's hilarious. His dad was so much better than Walter Fitzhume or Sabastian Niro as Bond, although Karen says Sabastian is the host man ever.

Anyway, after saying good morning to Doctor van Lister - yes, than means that Karen's other mom is Linda van Lister the woman who reinvented the portrait as they say - and telling her our plans for the day, we ran up stairs to Karen's room to pick out something to wear.

I was really nervous, I mean, this would be my first time in a girl's swim suit and I definitely wanted to look good. I mean, what's the point of being stuck as a girl for a year and having to keep it secret if you cannot at least flaunt it from time to time. Grandpa had said to see it as an adventure and people on adventures in movies always look their best, right?

The first big question was one piece or two, and if two, do I go topless? After looking through Karen's nearly limitless supply of bathing suits - the great thing about either California is year round swimming - I settled on a silver one piece that looked like steel lace. It got thicker and more concealing the closer it got to naughty bits until it was completely covering, but the farther from them it got the more transparent and revealing it got, leaving my sides, belly, and back completely uncovered.

It was so cool. Karen nodded when I showed it to her. "That will turn some heads, shame your titties aren't bigger." And then she ran 'cause she knew I was going to pound her for that. And she was right.

Karen decided - once the chasing and pounding were finished - to wear a pretty, teal green bikini set that was only slightly more revealing than my own choice.

A thought that had been plaguing me for some time came back to me, reinforced by the events of the previous night, a question I had been meaning to ask, but had never really found a good time. Figuring that there was no time like the present I turned to Karen and just blurted out, in what might have been the rudest fashion possible, "Karen--are you a lesbian?"

Karen didn't even blink or turn away from her own refection in the full length mirror we stood before as she responded, "Dunno, maybe. Why?"

"It's only I was wondering, 'cause you seemed awfully eager to get stuck with one of these watches, and your moms are, and your brothers are like the most straight people I know, so I was just wondering..." I kinda trailed off at that point, cause Karen was giggling at me.

She turned to me and gave me a bear hug, "Are you kidding? A watch that makes you immortal and bob knows what else? Sign me up! And as for turning into a boy, sure, it might be cool, don't know till I try. Momma Linda always said that life would be much simpler if everyone was female until they hit menopause and then they became men, but Momma Sanna said that if everyone was a hermaphrodite everything would be best, but I think that either would be weird. I like your grandfather's idea, everyone being what they want to be, I think that's best. I wonder if the watch can, you know, make you into a dog or a giant spider, or a dolphin, that would be cool, right?"

All the while she was talking I was putting on shorts and s t-shirt over my swimsuit, knowing that being seen dressed like a girl at Karen's house was as good as telling my parents about it. I was just nodding like I always do when Karen starts rambling on, cause it makes her happy and then she eventually will stop on her own and not get upset cause someone interrupted her. Once I was sure she was finished I smiled "Beach?" and when she concurred we were off, although we did have to convince Linda that we had sun block. It's not like we aren't geniuses who've lived in NoCal all our lives, we'd forget sun block. That would be like an Eskimo forgetting to wear his parka when he leaves the igloo. Man, parents are mental.

***

We arrived on the beach at nine o'clock, after a leisurely bike ride through town to let our breakfasts digest and to make the eventual plunge into the cool Pacific waters that much more enjoyable. Karen and I often employ the same philosophy with regards to triple chocolate fudge brownies or ice cream. We call it teasing ourselves, and it makes every thing just that much more fun.

We visited the storage locker that Karen's family, my family, and one of our neighbor's family - the MacAddams - share. We use it rather than haul chairs and parasols, and grills back and forth all the time. We unpacked our towels, set up our folding chairs, and parasol, peeled off our outerwear, well aware that young as we were we were at least being checked out by the local beach boys and riffraff. The beach wasn't crowded, but then it was a Tuesday and school was in session, but it wasn't that empty either. There were about seventy people all told, about half of them over forty and most of the rest over twenty, so we didn't have to worry about being recognized.

Karen and I, after receiving our share of whistles from some pervy high-schoolers who were most likely ditching from one of the three local publics, ran giggling into the ocean, pushing each other playfully along the way. We would frolic for about half an hour, then come back and collapse on our towels to soak up the sun and recover our energy and then after about twenty minutes we'd be back at it. Ocean water is truly excellent, especially when it's hot out and that day was hot, although thankfully not as hot as it would have been in LA; how they can live there is beyond me. But LA is like ninety miles south of us so it's okay.

It was thus that I'd been back in the water for the third time for about fifteen minutes or so when I faintly heard a beeping noise coming from The Watch, so I swam in a bit so I could stand up and looked down at the watch, but I wasn't worried, I figured it was just someone calling me. I was about half way to shore when the tingles started and my first thought was "Uh oh! The Watch isn't actually water proof! I shoulda read the manual last night!" but when the tingles cut out eleven seconds after they began I knew differently. The watch had changed me again, and from the way the tight bathing suit was gripping me tightly I had a good idea what the watch had done. If I could have screamed without swallowing half the Pacific and without drawing a lot of attention I really didn't want or need right now I would have, cause, wouldn't you know it, just as I was beginning to come to grips with being a girl, The damned Watch changes me back into a boy.

I knew, somewhere, my grandfather was laughing his ass off.

---

To be Continued in Part 10 - Congratulations! It's a Boy!

Bonus Material
My Favorite Ragnarok by The Mad Monarchs
1: Sky like Cellophane
2: Fever Pony
3: End of the World Rag
4: Fallout & Apology
5: Epilogue
6: Famine's Little Sister
7: Subtext for a Sunset (Soft and Hard Alternate)
8: Standing Before the Wavefront
9: Secondary Exposure
10: What Pleases Me
11: The Shelter of the Sword
12: Ride of the Valkyries
13: The Wild Hunt
14: The Tempest
15: Poetry of Horror
16: The World is Dying, Why Not Dance?
17: Thursday
18: The Silence of a Moment
Philis Waverly - lead electric guitar, vocals
Fahim Al'Wadi - bass, electric cello, electric violin, flute
Macha Gordo - vocals, keyboards, screaming
Maxim Jushesvili - percussion, vocals
Eric Pastor - percussion, trumpet
All songs (Mad Monarchs)