"I said that I ..."

"I heard what you said!" I put the back of my hand to my forehead. It was less dirty.

"Look in case you have forgotten I have er..plumbing issues." well it wasn't like I could come out and say I was a guy. Though why nobody seemed to see that was a puzzle. Then again I do look a little too much like Ari in the face. But I do have a guy's body.. mostly... Okay so the stick on breasts would fool most guys.

I mean the women surely should have noticed something off. Then again my waist and butt was different from a normal guys. But come on I had metal poisoning in my system! Stunted growth and all that. It wasn't like my little fat deposit moobs were real breasts!

By the look on his face he had forgotten as his mouth was open.

"Look..." this time he cut me off. What is with this family?

"Well it's not like I could tell him no." He picked up the necklace around my neck. Oh yeah. Forgot about that.

"Uhm would you believe temporary insanity?"

"No."

"How about one of those date rape drug things?"

"No."

"I thought it was a Crackerjack toy?" that one he laughed at.

"Your a grown woman." I raised my hand to object." I know what you think. I know what I see and that is a fine young woman."

"But.."

"Now where is that lathe?"

'But..."

"Oh for heaven sakes Leanna. All I did was give him permission to court you. No funny business just simple dating. It's not like I'm telling you to have his babies for crying out loud!"

"But..."

"Drop it." Father voice. I so did not cow over....

"Yes daddy." maybe a little.

I lead Hank over to where the lathe was mostly unburied. I say mostly. We had removed a lot of junk off of it already but there was still quite a bit of stuff piled around it. I helped Hank remove most of this to the bench, the temporary bench that had been setup. A lot of it was really dirty, Years of dirt, dust, and oil made some items less than recognizable.

Hank took a rag and an old can that he put some solvent in and started to wash down the lathe and the wooden bench it was on. It was a long lathe. About six feet or so long, maybe eight tops. Hard to tell exactly since a good part of it was behind the mill. The compressor was on the other side of the milling machine. Thankfully the toolbox, that had been in front of the compressor was movable as Greg saw what Hank was doing and thought it was be a good idea to wash down the compressor.

Thankfully the shop had breakers as I did hurry to turn off the breaker before Greg got close. I myself didn't get to do as much as I wanted since I was running back and forth for the guys. I found some books with parts diagrams for the three half apart machines and left Peter, Anne and Arianna sorting through the pile of parts, junk, and whatnot finding what went where with the machines. Hanz was working with a wire wheel on the grinder, and a vacuum, on the milling machine.

Hank was in a world of his own on the lathe. Greg was having fun cleaning the compressor. That turned out to be a five horsepower DeVillebliss. Good compressor. The drain the bottom was broken though. While Greg did his cleaning, which also included the floor around the compressor and mill. Hank was using the last of the air from compressor to blow off whatever he needed on the lathe.

The lathe is not an actual Southbend lathe. It's a clone. Back in the 1940's aka war time, a company in Montreal made clones of some Unites States model machines, for schools, war departments, etc. Why? Who knows exactly. I believe that all of the United states machines were being used in factories making war supplies. Since Canada also needed factories making supplies clones were made up in Canada.

Take apart a known machine make molds cast parts put a stamp on them and go to town. All it really takes, back in those days, was a minor difference and it was considered legal. In this case this was a sixteen inch lathe, versus the real Southbend fifteen inch lathes. Almost identical but different. Fairbanks Morse was the name on the identification plate. If anyone wants more information on the machine look up American - Southbend made lathes and you'll probably find a Fairbanks Morse. I don't think anyone cared during wwII.

There was a problem with the lathe. The crossfeed screw was badly worn out in a section. Hank a former, retired, machinist. Aka bored out of his tree, said it was no problem. All we had to do was find some metal he could use to cut, his words, a new one. Well the outdoor scrap pile had a strut from a car, it really shouldn't have been there but at a guess, one of the kids, or the former groundskeeper, fixed his vehicle on company time.

A bit of work with a cutoff wheel on the grinder and Hank had a 'suitable' shaft to work with. He spent a bit of time with a dial guage, no idea where he got that from, setting up the lathe and started to turn some chips. I really wanted to watch him do that. However I had a compressor to fix. After adding oil to the floor jack I was able to raise the end of the compressor enough to work at that busted drain.

I had to drill out the old rusted in brass piece, retap hole, and use some pipe sealant to install new drain. Before I did though I let the compressor down and tilted it the other way. You wouldn't believe the about of crap that came out. Oil, mixed with rust.Filled a drain pan three times, I used a garden hose to rinse out tank, before I was satisfied it was clean. Drains are easy to come by. In this case I liberated one off a radiator, no idea what that came from, and we were good. Greg and I spent a bit of time cleaning on the compressor, checking oil, it was low big surprise. Motor bearings for compressor needed a replacement. It wasn't bad bad. But it would soon be so a cheap $6 replace from Princess, Anna made a run with list. And it was good. Belt housing needed a bit of a weld and some new bolts. Hank did the honors with the Arc welder.

It was amazing how time flies. By the end of the day, we had a compressor that was back up and running smoothly. A mostly clean floor around milling machine, compressor, benches, lathe, and wash tank. The milling machine had a coat of fresh paint, once that was dry it could go back together. Hank had made his part which looked nothing like what he showed me of the old one.

Pierre treated us to burgers, he liked my recipe, potato salad to die for, regular salad, corn on the cob that was sooo good. Since we were all filty from head to toe, well except Hanz and myself. Sorta. For some reason he had presented me with coveralls, formerly in white, with the name Leanna on them as well as a blue pair for himself. My arms and shoes were a different story. I even had dirt on my face. Even Kieth was filty.

From what I could tell most of the parts had been sorted out, the garbage properly sorted and removed, half of the stuff that should have been kept had been tossed into a garbage bin. The bolt and nuts bins actually had stuff in them. All the screwdrivers, wrenches, sockets, etc had been found. Only a few things were missing. I suspect that someone had sticky fingers. Some of the pullers, torque wrenches, and measuring tools were missing. Nothing overly expensive but still it made Hanz mad. Someone was getting a visit by police tonight.

Rock music, liberal use of spirits from the bar, and a fire on the patio saw most of us into the night. I do not remember the cab ride back to Arianna's place. Being woken up at oh dirty hour to drink two large glasses of water was not my idea of fun. I woke up feeling a bit delicate but otherwise alright. I was the first up, had a can of pop I found in the fridge and was in the garage working on the snowblowers long before anyone else woke up.

I say anyone else cause a rather rough looking Hank drove up in that pickup truck of his. An older Chevy, black with rusty quarters. We finished the snowblowers and were long gone before Arianna made an appearance.

Hanz let us in and since he was looking green I gave him orders to suck on some mints and lay down in his office. He didn't argue.

Peter and Kieth showed up so I had them bring what lawn equip there was to the shop. They changed oil and learned how to properly sharpen lawnmower blades. All of them were in bad need of it, two had to be replaced. Some needed new shafts made, Hank took care of that on the lathe. Kieth was sent all over Winnipeg getting parts and pieces. Hank had brought over some 'stock' so making shafts was not a problem.

When Hanz made an appearance at around oneish with orders to stop for lunch we had made a good dent in some of the lawn equipment. One riding mower was good for cutting the grass. One needed a tire but was otherwise good. The front end mowers needed some new shafts made up for the deck wheels. Those would require the mill which was not back together yet for keyways.

Pierre had made us quite the spread. There was fresh baked bread, oh god was it good, home made soup. Best soup I have ever tasted, Pierre said it was a recipe he had wanted to try for awhile using the leftovers from kitchen. There was some potatoes, different kinds of noodles, celery, some other pieces I couldn't identify. Even some broccoli stems. I hate broccoli but this was great. And the soup was thick but not like gravy thick. There was also a very nice salad. A potato,and something salad. The word escapes me, lumes or something like that. It was also very good.

I mean it wasn't like a ton of food and I didn't eat like a pig but I think all of us were so stuffed it wasn't funny. Hank found one of the couches in the den and sort of napped for a bit. I guess working like he has after so long was tiring for him, still even after last nights drinking he was doing much better than Hanz who still looked a little haggard.

After lunch it was Pierre, the chef, who came with Hanz to help us put the mill back together. I did most of the actual work, with directions from Hank. Gods he acted like the overprotective father. I even asked if he needed a shotgun. It was a joke! Guess what the ass did? From the secret place in his truck that I couldn't tell you where he actually brought in a blasted shotgun. Most of the guys laughed and set him up a stool, and Hanz brought him a straw hat from who knows where along with a piece of grass.

Before someone complains, it's not a real shotgun. It looks like one but isn't. The barrel is totally fake being solid most of the way. He had made it years ago as a joke. I suspect that was for when Ari started dating. I'll have to ask her, then again maybe not.

Either way it sure made the guys treat me with more, uhm respect. Lot's of jokes around the gun and 'Pa'. Still I won't tell Hank this but his help putting the mill made it go together much better. Hank said that the mill was worn, as was the lathe, but for the purposes of this small shop it was good enough.

Hank would make a very good teacher. Although none of us are machinist's in any stretch of the word, we now know how to setup a mill, put on a vise, change bits, select speeds. I'm a little more familiar with reading micrometers, small numbers and bad old eyes don't mix well. Hank forgot his reading glasses. Still towards the evening the first chips flew on the milling machine as we cut some keyways for the shafts for the mowers. I could tell that Hank was very tired but happy and that satisfaction that can only come from completing a job. Hanz looked almost normal and even combed his hair at one point.

Everyone just kinda went their own ways that night. No drinking, partying or anything. Hank drove me back to Arianna's place. I made him come inside and take a nap, he tried to beg off saying he was fine and all that. I'm not sure how to take the "Your just like your mother!" comment. I let him snooze on the couch while I went out back of Arianna's and sat down in the chair thinking about that.

I never knew my mother. As much as I would like for Anna and Hank to be my real parents. Unfortunately they are not. I never had parents. Since Arianna was not home and Hank was snoozing on the couch I had the deck to myself. I try to never think about this if I can avoid it but every time I do, it hurts, it really really really hurts. I didn't want him to hear me crying to I did the best I could to "boys don't cry" hold it in. The tears drowning out my face I could do nothing about.

Waking up sometime later curled up in that chair was less than fun. My back was sore and I was very cold. The house was dark and I could just make out snoring. The windows even may have vibrated a bit. Not much but still I had always wondered if a snore could vibrate a window. Apparently it could.

Stepping inside I realized just how cold I was as I felt the heat of the house warming my aches up. Not wanting to disturb Hank, and the washroom being so close, I stepped as silently as I could and washed my face a few times. My eyes were a bit on the redish side. Still it was getting late. Once into the room I was staying in I stripped down to my undies and crawled into bed.

I woke to feeling someone brushing my hair. Why would someone brush my hair? I wanted to open my eyes but it felt soooo good! If I was Muffin I would be purring...then again by the feel near my foot someone was purring. How do they know exactly when you wake up? Is it a physic thing? I would really like to know that.

"I can tell your awake Leanna." that voice.... where have I heard that....

"Anna" I spoke as I reluctantly opened an eye.

"Call me mother dear. All daughters call their mothers mother...usually with an exclamation mark." Oh...should I?

"But Mother!" I tried not to grin.

"Sweetpea it doesn't work when you smirk!"

I did not pout.

"Arianna used to try that too. "

I just sighed and closed my eyes again. A clear signal to anyone that I want them to go away...right?

I heard her get and up open a door. A sliding door..oh oh.

"Oh this is a pretty dress, you have good taste, it should do." why do I have a baaad feeling about this..

"Why do I have to wear a dress?" oops did I say that out loud?

"For your appointment silly." Appointment? I have an appointment?

I tried, I really tried, I burrowed under the covers but having Muffin and her claws let you know she wasn't happy her heater moved. Well it kinda ruins the whole moment when you jerk.

"Oh for heaven sakes." Oww bright light and cold.. I want my blankee back. Of course Muffin let us know how she felt about the same thing with her mew, it's not quite a full meow. But she does do it for long enough, at different levels, to let you know just how bad you have been. Then she settled down by kneeding her spot again and went back to sleep.

"Leanna Phyllis Bridgston!" she started. I guess she was going to give me heck for something. What is with the Phyllis thing anyways? Who calls their kid that name?

"Come on out of bed dear. Time to get moving and all that." meh. I am not always a morning person. I wake up fine sometimes other times welll... lets just say it takes awhile to get moving. I was pushed, more or less, into a shower with a shower cap. I was washing myself in my underwear when I woke up enough to actually remove it. As soon as I slopped them over the shower door, it's a fogged glass in case your wondering, they were taken away.

I got out found a robe put it on after putting on lotion and went to the room I was staying in. Note I say staying in as I don't consider it my room nor my house. Simple underwear was followed by socks and a pair of jeans. I was just buttoning up said jeans when Anna came into room again.

"Oh no you don't!" She handed me the dress she had found. Simple over the shoulder flowery blue thing. I put it on over the jeans feeling stupid.

"Well?" she asked me.

"huh?" me not fully awake uggg.

"Take them off!"

"Take what off?"

"One."

"What did I do?"

"Two...the jeans off!"

"Oh!" ugggg

"Three..."

"Okay okay! Shesh I'm not even awake"big yawn" yet."

What is it with women and dresses anyways. What is wrong with jeans? Other people wear jeans. Heck most guys wear jeans. How many guys do you see wearing dresses? mmmm Alright that might be a bad example. Still. Was I grumpy? Sure of course. What guy being forced to wear a dress to an appointment wouldn't be? I mean real guys. I mean..oh I'm just digging myself a hole ain't I.

"Four." huh what did I do now?

"Five..socks!"

"But but.."

"SIX!"

And off comes socks. I had no idea what would happen if she reached ten and for some reason I really didn't want to find out.

"Why can't I wear my jeans?" I had to ask. I mean they were clean.

"They have stains." She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But they are clean." I mumbled while she led me over to the dresser where a chair had appeared. She must have stolen it from the kitchen or something while I was in shower. It really sucked that I didn't even have any pants to wear.

I sat, I didn't sulk, with my arms crossed while she played with my hair. At first I didn't pay any attention. When she was done the first time I just looked at her in the mirror with a scowl and said" I'm putting my jeans back on." No way was I going to some appointment with little girl pigtails.

"Spoilsport."

I watched her this time as she slowly, but quickly put some weird braid into my hair. She started at the front and worked around the sides towards the back. It made up of my hair but looked like it was a single braid laying on top of my hair going to the back where it hung down loose. It kept the hair clean away from my face. I kinda liked it actually.

That was about the only thing she did. I did my makeup, my makeup....ewwww. Let's not dwell on how I don't like the stuff. Just the mascary and some lipsmear. She folded her arms and made me feel like I had done some bad thing.

"I'm wearing a dress." She just nodded. Of course she was also wearing a dress, and I found out soon enough so was Arianna. Then again on Ari it looked normal. Anna put us together and had to take pictures. I miss the days of film. It limited the amount of pictures someone could take and required an actual camera. Now people just use smartphones.

Soon enough we were on our way to an appointment I had not asked for, didn't need, and didn't want to go to. I had stuff to do at the shop. I even grumbled about not being allowed to grab a drink. It did not take long to find out why. As soon as we arrived in the hospital parking lot I knew they wanted to have a doctor look at something. I was healthy, there was no reason for this.

Please keep in mind that me and doctors are not always the best of friends. I grew up in the states and you didn't go to doctor unless you had too. I had been to one here about the metal poisoning but it was a walk in clinic and I didn't have medical history to help him. I'm not even sure he did a blood test. Then again he was one of those doctors that probably got his degree outside of Canada.

The hospital had been around a long time. You could see the original building, all nice large limestone carved and whatnot, probably used only as offices now. What the original entrance looked like is a mystery as it had long ago been covered. Not like a facade that many once grand buildings had had done. This was you could just make out where there had once been a double wide door by the mantel over top. The cross in the alcove with the praying figurine, one of those really old catholic hospital once run by nuns, things.

Beside that was someone's attempt at an addition in the same stone but very plain. Attached to that was another building whose purpose is long lost in history. On the other side of the original building is an eighties style addition, being mostly concrete with granite facade and large ugly windows. Beyond that is the 'new' entrance, probably built about a decade ago, with it's overhanging aluminum gridwork that gives the illusion of coverage and the large solid glass doors that pivot open on pins.

Inside is a modern hospital, in that I mean there is a food court, cafe aka Timmy's, long curving wall that serves no purpose whatsoever. Aboriginal names, figures, plaques, and whatnot that only mean something to those that put it there. Towards the older section, circa 70's with the art deco floor tile and rubber bumpers on the wall, there is a simple photo and small note showing a very old wrinkled nun. At a guess without reading it the founder of hospital. I always find it strange that in today's modern times, much of the, in my opinion, gorgeous old stuff is removed and replace with very ugly chrome and glass stuff. Old pictures are behind plexiglass screwed onto wall. No picture frames.

Whoever the nun is that established the hospital is being forgotten in place of the totally unnecessary garbage at the front. I mean give me nice redone old wooden desks with a good couple coats of clearcoat on them. Anything but what looks to be plastic with four useless chrome legs or worse. Ikea style knockdown furniture that wobbles as soon as you look at it funny. Hey I happen to like dark wooden rooms with wood furniture and real old style wood stoves. But no leather or pleather pls.. just no not gonna go there.

The office were I am being led too is not bad. Tiny framed glass covered pictures and a diploma that means only good to those that can read it. I mean my writing is horrible but whoever signed this one is way worse. University of Guelph? They have one? Huh things you learn. This one does have the Ikea style desk. A computer on top of it, age unknown, at least it's a modern flatscreen monitor. Regular doctor's table. Ie white bottom made of metal, black vinyl thin cushioned top. And the metal handles on long poles that I have never understood what they were for. Roll out paper covering the vinyl cushion, apparently sanitary. Which is strange since it's organic and 'we' are supposed to go away from 'organic' materials in bathrooms.

The person, not kidding here, who showed us to this room is of indeterminate gender. Could be either or and with the standard blue grey scrubs you have to really take a guess. In today's hospitals you have to remember there is not just nurses in scrubs, there is nurses assistants, medical assistants, technicians, and interns. There is also some four or five levels of nurses now. The phrase 'keep is simple stupid' really does not apply to the medical field at all.

We are sitting in this room that is really not that big for five minutes before a lady doctor arrives. I say lady doctor because she is in a pencil skirt, white blouse, and the usual lab coat. My previous experience was with male doctors in ties and expensive shoes that were...less than gentle in examinations.

She introduces herself as one doctor Sara Keller. As if the diplomas, the printed part, didn't give that away. Apparently Anna and Arianna had been to see her the day before at her clinic. Over the course of a few minutes my past is made known to all present, surprisingly this does not seem to surprised either the doctor or Anna in the least.

I got the usual examination, abit much much gentler, and asked some questions. Sara managed to get a pharmacy record from when I was around twelve. Something about sealed medical records for young people from the states and it was going to take time and red tape. Why I have no idea. After all we are talking about my medical records. Shouldn't they come with me? But. The US has been overly cautious since 911.

"Leanna, or do you prefer Tony?" I looked down at myself then at Anna and Arianna.

"Uhm either is okay I guess. I don't really look much like a Tony at the moment." Anna smiles. It's a very nice smile.

"Before I proceed you have to understand that much of what I'm about to tell you is both private and, in your case, speculative. I will only know more after we do some tests that you have to agree too."

I think about this for a moment before nodding.

"First off twenty five years ago your, sorry, Anna gave birth to what was at first thought a baby boy. Her husband at the time, was apparently overjoyed." She looked to Anna who just nodded.

"After a few months the baby began to show signs of trouble and was brought in to be checked. This is actually pretty normal as most babies tend to get sick in some way the first few months. In her child's case a doctor, who I cannot divulge information on, examined the baby and has some further tests done." She paused for a moment.

"The child was found to be more female than male. Actually that's not accurate. It's more accurate to say the child was really female but with a male looking genital. What made this child different was that an MRI showed that should nothing be done to this child they would be able to grow to maturity without problems as the vaginal canal had been moved slightly to the rear. What this means is that, unlike most women, should she ever have a period she might be able to control the bleeding somewhat. However there was too much risk of infection up the canal from semen. An appointment was made to have the child's genitalia fixed to that of a females."

Anna stepped in at this point."Frank went crazy asking if the doctor could fix his son, when that was refused he went to another and another." She used a tissue to dab her eyes."I had to take care of Arianna who was only two at the time and very uhm precocious. I was not concerned for the first day. It was not till the second day when my baby was not home that I tried to call Frank. When I did I found his cell was off." Those first cells were not all that cheap or small. Being off to save battery probably was a good idea.

Arianna comforted her mom as I was told how Frank had just disappeared without a trace with the baby. The first doctor had amended the records to show the baby as Leanna Phyllis Bridgeston. It was only assumed, at this point, that Frank had taken the baby down to the states, which was easy at the time, to get medical help. It is unknown if he found it.

I told my tale of being found on the doorstep of a church in a cardboard box. Raised at various homes, brought to a doctor once when I was not developing at most males and had the gynecomastia. Do I remember getting blood tests? No not really it was so long ago. I might have. The doctor at the time explained about the heavy metal poisoning in the area and how it affected some of the male young. I was given some shots and sent home.

Do I remember being angry at the time? Well yes I got into a lot of fights, most of which I lost. One of my less than fond memories is my sixth grade teacher yelling at me that I was a bully. Which was strange as that darn Paul was always picking on me and was the bully. I didn't say that last part out loud.

Doctor Keller wrote out some forms to have me take some tests today in the hospital and she would schedule some others as soon as possible. What was strange is that she asked for both birth certificates and medical cards, one of which I didn't even know Arianna had gotten in the mail. Both medical card info was used on the form for blood. There was a check box for something and she made a call to someone else before we were sent to navigate the hallways of the modern hospital.

Being told to go to Buffalo floor six really doesn't help much in today's hospitals. Most of these hospitals are additions to additions to additions each of them not always at the same height as the other, and not necessarily connected the same way either. It took the three of us, plus a map download, almost forty minutes to find the spot, which turned out to be just a stairwell away from Doctor Keller's office. The elevators just down the hall led up to a different wing.

The bloodtest was less than fun. It's strange I probably cut my fingers once a week fixing stuff and have seen my blood countless times. Yet to see it being taken from me and put into a little tube makes me turn my head away. Some of the stuff they did seemed weird. They took swabs from my mouth. Put take on my arm and ripped it off fast. I'm sure they took skin as my arm is a little red. Then after all that they had me lay down on a bed took off my shoes and put some goop on them, applied something to them, then washed the off in warm water. If you have never had someone wash your feet for you, really you should it feels great.

"Love your polish!" oops forgot about that stuff. My shoes were put back on, of course calling them shoes means that they cover your feet so that you don't cut them on the ground or something. These things barely qualify as protection since the toes are open, the sides are open and there is only a strap that goes up behind the heel and somehow keeps the darn thing on even though you would think they should fall off.

Manitoba medical at its finest means that you might hear something back in a month, if it was life threatening. When you live in an area where a high percentage of the people there are retired you learn things really quick. So it was no surprise that after we left the bloodvampires we left the hospital it self. I should also mention that just about an place close to a hospital is pay parking. No free parking anywhere anymore it seems, which really sucks. And it's not all that cheap either. Once you could just go up and, if you were lucky, get some time left over by the person before you, plop in a quarter or whatever and see your appointment. Not now. The new machines, which don't work all that well, you pay two dollars minimum for an hours parking.

Or you can go into the parkade, which is a nice word for multilevel garage and doesn't have any people watching it, pay five dollars minimum but your vehicle might melt in winter. At one point parking in a parkade was a safe way to park. There was guards touring around once and awhile, real people at the outlet you could pay and get change. Now its stupid machines that cannot count correctly or can't recognize a bill causing you to run to a machine, get a new bill that might work, go back and pay for even more time. There was a case I heard about where a guy was in a rush, ran back and forth twice and the machine would still not let him out. So he punched the machine went to his car and drove through the barricade. He was in court, paid some fine, and after all that guess what? The machine in question turned out to be faulty because some kid put some chewing gum in the machine.

And yes I do know there is help buttons but that doesn't always work. You get some guy over the speaker who may or may not speak English telling you go put money into machine. Best not to get into to that, we could be here all day.

Like I was saying we exited the hospital and I assumed would get the car and leave. That was not the case we walked about a half block away to an older looking building that doesn't really say anything on the outside. We were let in to the building via a buzzer. Inside there was what looked to be a lounge area off to the right with leather seats and very solid looking wood tables, along the outside egde you could see the vents for radiant heaters under the windows. I'm sure up close there would have been many coats of paint on the vents. Some places believe that a new coat of paint every year is a good thing. I think it just looks tacky.

The carpeting had not been changed for a long time, Not that it wasn't in nice condition as there was clear mats over it but the multicolored hexagons and square pattern kinda dated the carpet. The heels of our shoes, as aggravating as that was for me to say that, made little clip clip sounds on the matting. The hall for the elevators was done with an older fake, really fake, stone board. Tasteful at one point, like the sixties maybe, with a funky psychedelic scheme to it on the top half. In orange, different shades of orange. Well it matched the rest of the place.

Instead of the 'normal' chrome/stainless steel elevator door these were done in very fake wood vinyl. I wondered where the maintenance crew even got the stuff to fix that. Probably have a huge roll in the basement somewhere. The inside of the elevator? Same fake wood. However someone had, at one point, put an oak bumper around the edge of the elevator below the handhold. So it was even more tacky than before. Dark dark fake wood vinyl walls with bright almost white oak handholds and bumper.

If I lived here I'd probably want to be on drugs too. Gah! No offense to those that lived the sixties and seventies but omg! The ride up the elevator was smooth to what appeared to be the fourth floor. Big square buttons on, you guessed it, wood panel. Fake vinyl wood panel. and the buttons were yellow,with age. But that nice piece of paper up top says it was certified recently.

The elevators opened to a different era. Not kidding the fourth floor was obviously for people of an older generation. While walls with that mahogany fake board paneling you used to see in older houses. The floor here was that hospital chip in beige. I have only ever seen that flooring in hospitals. I know you can now do that with epoxy,shudder, but this was the real old stuff. One chip in a corner but otherwise pretty good shape. The ceiling met with wall with a curved molding of some sort. Not a big crown molding. Just a little one. Painted white. Simple fixtures mounted mid wall. Chair railing of some unknown dark colored wood.

Anna lead us left this time with a click clack of heels echoing down the hallways. I tried not to think about the fact that I was the source of some of that. Strange place for another doctor. She finally came to a door marked 406 and knocked before opening the door onto what looked like someones apartment. A small apartment since it had a bed in plain view. There was a chair, table, and a small kitchen. Meager but sufficient. Maybe they were here to check up on someone.

The main room had a crown molding around the pain section. Possibly plaster but I doubt it. All curve nothing else. The walls were a very light gray while the molding was white, along with the trim around the windows and doors. The doors had head casings that were basically a board with a molding on the top edge. On the window sill, which was somewhat wide, there was an array of plants. Someone had a green thumb.

"Mum? We're here!" Anna called out. That explains the dresses.

"Coming" Came from the one room with a door, presumably the bathroom. Sorta hidden behind the small couch was one of those scooters that are popular for people with mobility issues. Like the overly fat ladies that believe ten pounds of perfume covers the fact that they haven't had a bath in a few days. Yeah the area I live it the closest store has this one lady that makes you gag every time she comes in. She has uhm never mind, not important.

So from the bathroom comes what looks like a very white haired lady that just looks old. Her skin is all freckled and wrinkles on wrinkles if you get my meaning. Her face is fairly good, a few wrinkles but not bad. Her arms are not spindly but still not very strong either. She is walking, slowly, with one of those push walkers. It may take her time but she gets there. At a guess a stubborn old woman who wouldn't let you get away with anything.

And yes she is in a dress. Slippers on her feet and no trailing toilet paper, though to be honest I did kind of expect it. You can see that there is still a fight left in this lady, probably spent most of her life workin on the farm. I've seen the type before. If this was not an apartment but one of those little houses for old people with the spot in front for a garden I can see her working quite happily in it. Heck one of my neighbors is just like that. To be honest her garden is always impressive even though she sometimes can't get up from said garden.

"Awww all my girls together! Well come here Leanna don't be shy." Who me? Oh no nooo way...move dammit!

"Lets have a look at you?" She made this twirl motion with her hand...and I twirled. I didn't want to but felt I had too."Mmm You got the family figure. Good baby hips." Wait what? I'm a guy I can...can....can....can....

"Now Mum. We don't know for sure yet. The doctor's just did the tests today. I think your.." family trait that interruption thing.

"Oh be still Anna! I may be old but I'm not daft!" She looked me up and down. " Come with me young lady." You know I could probably run downstairs have lunch and be back before she made it to the couch. But no I slowly follow her. The couch is probably pretty old, doesn't look it though. Its softer than you would think. I know I had to sit on it twice. Why, duh I didn't 'tuck' the dam skirt.

"Now then. Your sister and mother have been telling me all about how they are sure you are the long lost Leanna. To be fair I would like to hear all about your life up to this point." She held up her hand before I could say anything." I know you are 'supposed' to be a man" she actually used her two fingers on each hand to emphasize the point.

"The point is from what I have heard, you seem to have become a woman in a very short time."

"It's just a favor for Arianna you see.."

"I know about that." and I'm cut off again. Is there a problem with completing sentences?"Yet, here you sit, a young woman. Rough around the edges true, but still very much a woman."

What do you say to something like that? Apparently I didn't have too. "You may thing this is just an act. But from the moment I saw you all I saw was a woman, and even I know about the 'male' thing. This is probably not the first time someone has mistaken you for a woman either."

It wasn't a question.

How do you answer that. I started slowly at first but she got the words to come. About how when I was young I was assumed to be a girl by just about anyone that saw me. I would go for a haircut with the other children from the orphanage and I would always end up with a girls bob.

The kids in the orphanage were not stupid either. I was constantly called Antoinette. This eventually spread to school where the bullies would home in on me. At first some girls would try to defend me. But that stopped after awhile. There was a few of the orphanage kids that would step in to help. It was like they could bully me but nobody else at school could type of thing.

There was a few times where kids would tease me saying that I should be in dresses or where was my skirt, especially on picture days. But we were all kids at the time and I was an orphan. Nobody wanted me. I would see kids get picked up by adoptive parents and I would remain behind. As I got older I was handed off to foster parents. Most just took me in for the paycheck.

I remember how at one house I was treated like dirt by the foster's daughter. Brittany was a real piece of work. She would constantly do things to get me in trouble. Her parent's were either blind or just didn't really care. I mean aside from Brittany it was one of the better homes. However her biggest problem was more of a lack of self esteem I think. I mean I was a boy and she would say I was cuter than her.

It was because of her that I got stuck with a denim skirt at school after my pants tore. I think she did something to the seam in the crotch. Then again that seemed to happen a lot to me. I told Annabelle about the horrible teasing I got that day and every other day after. I mean guys would come up to me and ask when I was gonna dress up cute again or ask me out and stuff. It was horrible.

The bad homes were just bad. There was the one that was a meth house and we foster's were made to haul the 'product' out. All we did was carry the stuff to a van or car or whatever was picking it up. The guy behind that was less than nice it was he who dragged me to a doctor to find out why I wasn't as strong as other kids. I got the shots and the pills.

The next month wasn't pretty for me. I would get angry and pick fights with anyone at school. Up to that point I had been a fair student. You know the type that always had 'could do better if she applied herself' report cards. Yes even some teachers would forget that I was a boy when making out the report cards.

Not always, I mean the gym teachers always pushed me, gods I hated gym during school. "Pick that lazy butt off the floor Tony!" I did play some sports during recess, mostly 'killer' soccer. That got an eyebrow. I explained how all it really was was soccer with stupid rules.

1) No fighting.

2) No tackling girls.

3) Only three goalies per net.

And those were the rules. Pick up ball and carry it? Not the best idea. Everyone would pile on you if you did that. Pick up ball and kick it, sure that's normal. Catch with hands? Its fine. Elbows to guts or legs? Ehhh it happened. You learned to avoid it. Those that could kick far were given some respect. I may not have been the strongest boy in school but my legs were pretty fit.

I did get some bruises but it wasn't bad. Then there was baseball. I had to learn how to swing my body to hit that dam ball. Yep got a smack for that one. My pitching sucked. 'You pitch like a girl' really? I had no arm muscles because of that darn metal poisoning. Homelife was do homework, if I had any, do chores, eat and sleep.

Highschool was a little better. I had the Henderson's as a foster family for two years. They let me fix stuff for cash. They were an older couple, both close to retirement, and all their children had been off on their own. So they fostered what children they could. I had finally started to grow some fur on my face so I got called miss less. Stores were never fun. It seemed that all the store employees would be as far as possible from me.

Going to restaurant's with the Henderson's was fun. I had never been to one before so being in a real restaurant, not counting McArches. Their orders were always as they asked. Mine not so much. I would order eggs over easy, and get scrambled. Light toast and get burnt. Stuff like that.

At school I got along with most of my classmates. At least those that I didn't 'scare' anyways. Yeah I never got what the 'scare' part was. All I knew was that for some strange reason, most of the kids were scared of me. It wasn't a bad rep thing. Actually those that did get to know me always said that they couldn't see why people would be scared of me but it happened all the same.

I have fond memories of the days with Henderson's. Martha was a nicer older lady. She taught me the basics of cooking. Real cooking not microwave or prepared meals. You know mix flour, sugar, yeast and stuff. My muffins were a hit! Al would try his best to teach me those values that fathers are supposed to teach kids. Something that I had been sorely lacking. I guess, in a way, he was the first father figure I ever had.

It was Al who got me fixing machines. He was getting too old, his words, to fix these old machines. He handed me a book from his horde of nineteen fifties do it yourself books. Some of it was seriously out of date. But the general idea of how an engine worked was the same. Remember in those days the books were more of 'learn how to be a mechanic and earn extra income' type diy books. Good but funny at the same time.

Well that got me hooked on mechanical. I devoured the book and a few others. Fixing mechanical things became, I dunno how to describe it, but simply and dirt easy. I could somehow know what was wrong, or at least diagnose what was wrong on a number of machines. I didn't always fix everything at first. I made my share of mistakes.

It was also Al who encouraged me to save up some money for college. In a way I guess Hank reminds me of him. Hank is more though. I can't describe it but, while Al was a very good man, he wasn't my dad. Hank, somehow, is.

From my point of view life was going good for me, I should have know it wouldn't last. After all scumvermin like me don't deserve a happy life. It was the summer of the year I would start my senior year, grade 12, I had just turned 17 after all. I remember that day so clearly when all my happiness died.

We had all been out back working in the garden. Al had taken his turn at the tiller and had to hand it off to me. He said that the tiller had given him a headache. We were concerned as Al had been getting the occasional headache lately. He had never gotten so many before. He would take something, go lay down, and he would be fine in an hour or so.

Martha and I had finished with the garden, tiller was away, and the stakes for the rows were up as well as the planting. We headed in for dinner and I had planed on fixing something or another in the garage I think. Well we found Al on the couch with an icepack on his head, melted. He was drooling and was not responsive when we tried to rouse him. His face looked, bad.

An ambulance was called of course. I don't remember if we ate anything that day. Heck for all I know there could have been some tools left out in the rain and we wouldn't have cared. Al had had a stroke. I remember holding Martha as she was told what had happened. Seeing Al hooked up to a machine with a tube in his nose for air was heartbreaking.

While the garden did grow, nobody tended it. I helped Martha during those days as best I could. It took awhile for her eldest daughter to get some time to come help. Debbie took the news of her father as hard as Martha did. I guess, in a way, I did too.

I remember when she showed up she looked at me like the scumvermin I am and said" What are you still doing here?" I guess in hindsight if I had somehow come up with a good answer like a real person I would have stayed with them. I didn't though. Whatever she did the next day I packed my bags for the last time and left the Henderson's.

I got a letter at my place, it was written a few years later by Martha, with Al's scrawl on it. They apologized for the way I was treated and hoped I was doing well. I keep that letter and whenever things get really bad I pull it out and read it again. It lets me know that at one point in my life someone cared about me.

The next place I got put in was more of a boarding house type place, I ate whatever I could buy with the meager funds child services gave me. I went to school, did what I could and tried to never let anyone see me when I lost control and started to drip tears. I mean here I was a kid still, even at seventeen, thrown out of a place I actually liked, living in a dive. Not communication from the Henderson's at all. I had been moved to a different area completely so I couldn't visit.

My one call there Debbie answered and she told me never to call again. It hurt. I guess I hurt and drove people away with my lack of wanting to do anything. It was the start of my life I guess. I woke did what I could ate slept. When I turned eighteen child services washed their hands of me and I was out on the street, so to speak. The landlord at the dive let me stay on as long as he could. I suppose there is some things I left there when I crossed the border.

I told them about crossing the border, the stupid mistake that left me stranded in Windsor. I didn't mention the time I slept in an abandoned gas station's washroom huddled around a lightbulb for warmth. I had tried to live for a month or two in Toronto. But there was too many other people looking for the same thing I was.

I did my best to survive, pretty much hitchhiked across the province to Westhawk lake. Spent a summer there helping out at the marina. Cash jobs. The marina at Westhawk lake is not where most people would think it is. There is a spot on the lake were they bring stuff to launch and test out but the actual marina is way up the side of the rock face beside the highway. The front faces away from the highway. There is this long slope that leads to a kind of stream going to a pond where most of the work is done. Beside the pond is a huge flat stone area that is fenced in.

Boats from multiple lakes in the area get wintered there. Not a bad place if your young enough to work. Fixed some stuff over at the Falcon lake golf course, mostly lawn equipment. I did not have a ticket for propane, which is what their carts used at the time. When fall came around I got to Winnipeg and with the help of the Golf pro from Falcon lake golf course, Bob, he's retired now, got onto social security. More commonly known as Welfare.

My house was more luck to get than anything. Nineteen forties war surplus housing at it's finest! Cold in the winter, hot in the summer. But it's better than say sleeping in the park.

My meeting up with Arianna had been pure chance, nothing more. I explained how the washing machine had ate my clothes and how people mistook me for Arianna after I had shaved away the beard and mustache, Arianna called it thick fluff. Greg and then Hanz and then Hank. Why my face felt damp when I finished was beyond me.

When I looked up, why was I looking down, everyone had ruined mascara and tissues in their hands. Nobody wanted to say anything to me. After all I was scumvermin why should they care. I guess it just took them this long to realize that I was trash.

Since nobody was saying anything to me I guess they were shocked about how much of a trash I was. Wasn't the first time someone had all but abandoned me after finding out my past. Getting up off the couch wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. I mean that emotionally. I gave it the old Tony try and sucked it back.

I thanked them for the wonderful time, especially Arianna, and grabbed the purse. It may only contain my id's and a cheque I couldn't actually cash but it was something. I left the apartment behind because I had too.

Did it hurt? Well yes. Walking back to my place in a skimpy dress, looking like a woman, was not fun. It got cool outside, five miles in heels is also not something I ever want to repeat again.

I kept all of it in all the way home, humming songs to keep myself together. I didn't pay any attention to any cars if I could help it. Honestly I don't remember most of it. I got into the door of my place before I lost it and quite simply cried for the loss of what could have been. I had been so close to the family I had always secretly dreamed about.

But it was not to be. I was scumvermin after all.

Sorry for the long wait. I have had life issues this month.