Wishing for a mirror sounded rather girly...

 
Ultragreen
4- No One Would Know
by Erin Halfelven

 
After George left, whispering to himself in his weird, broken voice, Shel emerged from under the tarp and retrieved her old clothes.

“I hope these still fit,” she muttered. They seemed like someone else’s clothes, especially the underwear, but they did fit. The blue slacks and buff-colored button-down shirt were the school uniform, needing only the blue and gold tie and brown (grades 7-9) or blue (10-12) blazer to be completed. But George and Sheldon had not worn complete uniforms to work in the old mansion.

Shel tied the laces on the non-uniform sneakers (did they seem a bit looser? No matter) and slipped on a watch (and yes, the band needed to be tightened one hole), noting the time. “We still have three hours before Saturday check-in,” she said aloud. “Wish I had a mirror down here….” It occurred to her that wishing for a mirror sounded rather girly and she blushed. “Well, I need to see if I look enough like me to pass at roll call,” she said aloud, defending herself from self-accusation.

She didn’t think of herself as a girl, but she no longer felt quite right as a boy, either. Things had moved quickly, and she sought a distraction.

She checked the room to see if they were leaving anything behind that they would need back at the school. It was a twenty-minute ride to the gates, so they needed to leave in about two hours to have a cushion of time. But first Shel needed to reassure herself that no one would know that something had happened to Sheldon.

That’s why she wanted a mirror. Right. She really didn’t want to have to explain to anyone what had happened. The idea of telling anyone that she had accidentally turned herself into a girl in an effort to gain superpowers was almost terrifying. Being a girl was not a superpower, she reminded herself.

But if she didn’t look too different…. And seriously, shouldn’t she still look like Sheldon while wearing Sheldon’s clothes?

She found the journals and logs George had been using to guide their experiments and almost moaned in frustration. Her reading and math problems at school were even worse when it came to stuff that did not have to be endured. She opened one of the fiberboard-bound booklets and stared at the chicken scratches inside. That her good friend could make any sense at all of such a mess amazed her.

The notes in the margins in George’s own handwriting were no easier to read, even though she knew her friend’s penmanship was quite decent. But she couldn’t read any of it and marveled that George could.

She frowned. Or maybe George had made a mistake? She sniffed and her lower lip trembled. How would she ever know? Perhaps the process could be reversed, maybe not. Her one hope of becoming a boy again rested on George’s genius and understanding of the old books. Still sniffing and trying not to cry, she headed up the stairs to the first floor of the mansion.

The building had once belonged to the Thibodeaux (tibb-uh-doze) family, after whom the town of Thibido (tee-bee-doo) had been named (sort of). Three stories tall (plus basement) it had 29 rooms, including two kitchens, and was maintained by the city according to terms of a trust and lease. Twice a month gardeners came to care for the lawn and once a month, a crew cleaned the interior and did any repairs needed.

The gardening crew had welcomed the help of two students from the academy. Which the boys had volunteered after George’s research suggested that Alison Thibodeaux Vassilyev (last resident of the house) had actually been the superheroine Ultragirl. For slightly different reasons, both boys had been eager to do more research, and the old building offered the best opportunity.

George might be a whiz at reading and calculation, but it had been Sheldon who had acquired keys to the house and its basement. And he hadn’t even stolen them. Well, not really. He’d just borrowed them, had copies made, and returned them before they were noticed as missing. After that, sneaking into the laboratory for a few hours on Saturdays had become a weekend routine.

Climbing the darkened stairs, she paused for a moment to rub at her chest. It itched. In fact, she sort of itched everywhere. Sheldon’s clothes fit well enough, but she could not get over the subliminal thought that they weren’t her clothes. Rolling her eyes in more exasperation, she continued upward emerging in the first-floor kitchen.

The hallway off the dining room had a mirror, but it was pretty dark that deep into the house. And George was probably using the large first-floor bathroom with its skylight and mirror to get cleaned up. So she took the narrow kitchen stairs up to the master suite on the second floor, noting as she did so that she was not tired at all and felt filled with energy.

Green energy? Did she have superpowers she hadn’t discovered yet? Immensely cheered up by the thought, she decided that she and George needed to do some more investigation. And the first thing to do was get a look at herself. She hurried up the stairs, unaware that she was giggling in excitement.

On the second floor, Shel approached the master bedroom cautiously.

The whole house was mothballed, in effect. Most of the appliances and furniture had been removed or stored away and others covered in linen dust cloths. Paintings, wall and floor coverings, and things like china and silverware had been moved to storage on the third floor. The huge master suite lay almost empty but light came in from the north-facing balcony through small gaps in the heavy drapes, and a huge mirror hung on the wall beside the door to the bath.

Shel practically sneaked up on it, a little afraid of what she might see. George had been dumbstruck by her after all, and it might not have been just the change from boy to girl. She stepped in front of the mirror and examined her reflection.

And there stood Sheldon looking much like himself. She stared. Same wide oval face. Same wavy hair with every color of red, auburn and ginger possible. Was it a little longer? Did her mouth look… plumper? Her nose tipped up a little more? Hard to say. Her skin did seem smoother, almost certainly….

She looked at the fit of her clothes, Sheldon’s clothes. Had her shoulders always been so narrow? She nodded. Yes, they had, it had been something Sheldon had hoped would be corrected as he grew.

Now, what?