“Son, the next time you set foot in this building, I expect you to be wearing slacks, a jacket and a tie. How dare you flaunt what you’re doing in God’s face, in our faces! Dress right, or don’t come back!”

Willow looked right back at him plaintively. “And if I do come back like this … ?”

~o~O~o~

NOTE TO READERS

Well, this has never happened before. I try to make a point of finishing a story before I start to post it, so most all of the work is done and I don't risk having an unfinished story (a pet peeve of mine) here on BC. But this story has defied my attempts to finish it. I have received input from readers about how they wish "this thing" was in the story, and others about how "that thing" should have been addressed; look, the story is the story, and if I'm happy with it, then take it or leave it. But twice now as I've prepared to wrap this up, Willow keeps coming up with unresolved stuff that I want to address. I evidently am no longer in control of it; it has control of me. So, I'm continuing this story. It may end with part 14. But who knows anymore? I sure don't. Sorry if my inconsistency is frustrating you.

Oh, and as for part 14: I need a break from the writing. So it won't be here tomorrow. It may take up to a week? But I hope not. Just watch the BC list, and it'll happen when it happens. As always, I appreciate you. **Sigh**

~o~O~o~

Late July.

Dr. Estrada was seeing Willow for her counseling; these visits had lessened to every 4 weeks, though the injections were still every 2. Today the teenager’s mother was waiting out in the lobby while Willow and the doc had a private session.

“So tell me, Willow. How are you doing? Now that you’re out in public more, have there been any problems? I understand you and Bernard are still dating. Has he had any blowback from his parents or friends regarding his dating a trans girl?”

“His mom’s not thrilled,” admitted Willow. “I think she wants natural grandkids between her son and a daughter-in-law. She isn’t rude to me when I’m at his house, but she’s not warm either. Bernard’s going to move out as soon as he finishes trade school; he’s going to be an auto mechanic.”

“And Bernard’s father?”

“He’s just not around much. I’ve seen him like, once this summer – and he was heading out the door to his second job. I’m worried; what if he has a woman on the side? Even though Bernard’s relationship with his dad is getting more distant, if his folks divorce I’m afraid it would crush him.”

“So, that’s stressful for you. How are your emotions doing? I especially want to know about anger.”

Willow smiled. “I work every day on my spiritual program, doc. I’ve been through the 12 steps and am still working on the maintenance program. I’ve got nearly 10 months off of any alcohol or drugs now; and neither Angry Bill nor Willy the Dude have popped up since the Rico incident in January. Aren’t you proud of me?”

“I’ve always been proud of you, young one. But that doesn’t relieve me of my duty of making sure you stay grounded. So tell me; what do you and Bernard do on your dates?”

“Ummm …” Willow blushed bright red. “We don’t have sex. Yet. I mean, most people wouldn’t call it sex. Uh, I guess you could say –“

“No, no Willow! That’s not what I meant. Although when you decide to “do it”, no matter who it’s with, I expect you to practice safe sex. We’ve talked about that. No, what I mean is what activities do you two do? Where do you go?”

“OH!” Willow exhaled with relief. “We’ve done a lot! Last month we visited Carlsbad Caverns. We’ve gone sand surfing at White Sands; last week he took me for dinner at Chala’s Wood Fire Grill, and we went to a movie afterward. He’s a great boyfriend.”

“Chala’s,” contemplated Estrada. “That’s in Las Cruces, correct?”

“Yes, sir. Have you been? It’s excellent!”

“Willow, all of your activities seem to be in New Mexico. Are you purposely avoiding El Paso?”

Willow suddenly got quiet as she considered his question. “Well … when school starts I won’t be able to do as much out-of-state traveling …”

“Young one, in a month you’ll be experiencing life as a trans girl in high school, suddenly surrounded by peers who previously knew you only as a boy – a drug dealer, no less. Are you afraid of running across them right now?”

Willow felt shaky inside and her breathing quickened. She immediately identified the emotion. “Omigod. I do fear it! I guess I’ve been unconsciously avoiding any uncomfortable situations. I’ve not been to the mall since I got my prom dress!”

“So, this is a valley you need to walk through – better sooner than later. Let’s see if you can go public in your home city and survive any turmoil it produces.”

“Okay, okay. I get it, doc. Will do. Even though I’m nervous about it.”

~o~O~o~

“Father, your 2 o’clock is here. Mrs. Eiken and her child. Shall I send them in?”

Father Joseph Wilson removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. This promised to be one of the more uncomfortable moments he’d experienced as head minister of Chula Vista Episcopal Church, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Yes, Marie. Please send them back.”

He stood up as two people entered his office – one female and a person who appeared to be one. “Gwen – welcome. And welcome to you, too; you must be Willow, correct?”

“Yes, Father,” the teen replied as she shook his hand.

“Have a seat please, both of you. Now; I think I know what it is, this issue you want to discuss. But let me hear it from you, ma’am.” He pointed his open palm towards Gwen.

“Father. I assume you know my child’s status. It was all over the news during prom season, and I’ve heard the poorly-hidden whispers in the foyer after services. My daughter Willow was formerly my son Bill. And she wants to start attending services here with me and the rest of my family.”

“I see. Is that all?”

Gwen was surprised. “Yes, that’s pretty much it.”

“I have no problem with her attending services. You are welcome here, Willow.”

The girl blinked. “Wow! That was easy.”

“Yes, your attendance is welcome. As long as that’s all you intend.”

Gwen’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

“What I mean is this: Chula Vista is a house of worship. I don’t want it used to push an agenda, or for political posturing. The church leadership has a stance that gays, lesbians, and transgenders are practicing sinful acts in God’s sight. Now, the church is supposed to be here to help sinners; I see us more like a hospital than as a spotless museum of icons. All sinners – including me – are welcome to come here to seek God and hear his truth. But I don’t want anyone actively promoting LGBT positions as if we were “all right” with it. No pink-and-blue flags, no GLAAD meetings, no outlandishly inappropriate dressing. Did you have any of this in mind as you came here today?”

Gwen opened her mouth but Willow beat her to the response. “Can I wear a Sunday dress? Or is that “outlandishly inappropriate”?”

“I personally would prefer you wear pants of some kind, Willow. Having said that, if you show up in a dress, I will defer any judgment or action to the church elders. Expect some negative feedback from other church members, too; I cannot control how they feel.”

“No, but you can affect it,” Gwen asserted. “If you announced from the pulpit that Willow was to be accepted and treated as any other church member, that would help a lot. Even if you said that our job as Christians is to love and not judge; you wouldn’t necessarily have to mention her name to do that.”

“It’s the acceptance part I have trouble with, Mrs. Eiken. We accept sinners, but not the sin. I will not be a part of turning a blind eye to behavior that is sinful.”

“But you guys allow drug addicts to come here and hold their NA meetings,” Willow urged. “Heck, some of them come to your services and help with various volunteer things!” She was thinking especially of Bernard and his position at the soundboard in the balcony.

“Yes we do, Willow; but all of those drug addicts acknowledge that it’s wrong behavior, and they are committed to quitting! We support their efforts. I would be very supportive of you if you acknowledged that your attempt to become a woman was wrong, and if you were seeking help to quit it.”

Gwen exhaled. “I was afraid of this, honey. The central El Paso Episcopal church follows the National Leadership and accepts trans people. I guess we’ll have to move our family to there.”

“No, Momma,” she whispered. “All my NA friends - and Bernard - attend here!” She then turned to father Wilson. The girl’s eyes got slightly watery, but her face was pure determination. “I’m going to attend services here, Father. I will probably be wearing a proper church-going dress. Let the members talk; let the elders judge. I will be the perfect, respectful church girl, not doing anything to ‘stir the pot’ except showing up.” Willow stood, and pulled her mother up by her hand. “I’ll see you Sunday, Father.”

“Very well, young man. I’ll see you then.”

Willow’s head jerked around to stare at the minister. Her face began to show fury, but then a calm serenity slowly transformed her to where her visage was relaxed and showing a sweet smile. “It’s young lady, please. God bless you, Father.” With that, both women left the office.

~o~O~o~

Grandpa John was asleep, having been put to bed right after supper. The rest of the Eiken family was at the dinner table. Bernard Andujar, Willow’s boyfriend, attended also.

“Before we get started,” said William, “how about a round of applause for your Mom’s supper tonight? Green chile sour cream chicken enchiladas. Honey, that’s my new favorite.”

“You say that after every new dish I serve,” Gwen smirked.

“And I really mean it each time!” he smiled. Then his face got serious. “Okay. We’re here to discuss what the plan is for Monday. Willow’s first day of high school as Willow. Angie, Bernard – what do you think she should expect?”

“Oh, I think some kids will make trouble for her,” said Angie. “Not most, but enough that she’ll have to always keep both eyes open. Nasty comments will happen for sure. Physical violence? I don’t know. And that’s what scares me; I really don’t know. I just know that at the end of last year, after the prom, I got teased and shoved just for being related to Willow.”

Bernard added more. “There are some tough dudes that she’ll have to watch out for. I know, because they threatened to beat me up once they learned we were friends. You need to stay in well-populated places on campus, dudette.”

“How can I avoid them?” fretted Willow. “I don’t even know what they look like yet.”

“I called the administration to make sure they know all of the people Angie and Bernard are talking about,” said Gwen. “Still, I wish one of us could be there. I can’t leave Grandpa alone in the house. Angie, is there any way … ?”

“My UTEP classes have already started, but that’s not the obstacle. Montclair doesn’t want me, a recent grad, to be roaming the halls protecting a student. So they refused to give me a hall pass. They think with their cameras they can prevent anything. They may document it, but prevent? I don’t think so.”

“I faced the same roadblock,” piped Bern. “I almost wish now I had flunked senior year so I could be back there to protect you, babe.”

“Guys, this is real life for me now,” sighed Willow. “I just need to face it. I can handle the talk and the looks. The only part I’m not sure about is getting beaten up. It would be nice to have a bodyguard to keep me out of trouble, but I guess –“

“I’ll do it.”

The whole assembly turned to where that voice came from. Gwen addressed the speaker.

“Malachi, are you sure? You’ll be just a freshman!”

“Mom, look at me. I know I’m only 14, but did you notice my growth spurt this year?” The young man stood up to show his full 6’1” height.

“Dude,” said Bernard. “You’ll have to have a real badass attitude to pull this off. These guys are upperclassmen, and they intimidate anyon - URK!“

Bernard’s “urk” was due to Malachi grabbing his coat by the lapels and pulling the older boy face-to-face. “HEY! Are you the piece of trash who’s threatening my sister? ARE YOU??”

Bernard smiled nervously. “That’ll do, dude. That’ll do!”

~o~O~o~

It was the Sunday before the first day of school at Montclair High. Most teenage churchgoers would be thinking about what was to happen on Monday. But thoughts of class were now superseded by the sight of a girl standing in the foyer of Chula Vista Episcopal.

Said girl wore a modest knee-length dress with pretty ruffled sleeves; it was a pastel mint sage color. She stood by her family as her mother and father greeted their friends there. Some people were formally introduced to the girl, who courteously shook hands with them; she even gave a hug to an older gracious woman. None of the teens present approached her. One young girl angrily elbowed her boyfriend for staring a little too long.

Willow stood and twiddled her fingers as she grinned nervously. Smile, smile. You’re glad to be here. Make a good impression.

“You doing okay, daughter?” Gwen side-whispered.

“So far,” breathed Willow. “Where’d bro and sis go?”

“Mal’s gone to the teen church, and Angie’s sitting in the young adults' group. Poppa and I are going to the sanctuary to take our seats now. You’ll be going upstairs, right?”

“Yeah. Bernard should be already up there at the soundboard. I’ll see you guys back here after it’s over!” Willow walked quickly to the balcony steps, and up them. Reaching the top, she scanned the upper seats and saw her boyfriend.

“Hey!” she chirped, her face beaming as she sat by Bern.

“Man, I must’a died and gone to heaven,” he said. “Because this is surely an angel sitting next to me.”

“Oh, stop,” Willow chided. “Wait. No, actually, keep it up. I think I love it.”

The worship began. Traditional songs accompanied by organ were played and sung. Prayers and statements were read, with the congregation saying “amen” in unison at times. Then Father Wilson came to the podium.

He spoke on Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount out of Matthew; He barely got one-third of the way through the first chapter before the time came to end the service.

“So, Jesus said that stuff. That didn’t sound too bad to me. Where were all the 'thou shalt nots'?" asked Willow as the crowd began to disband.

“I liked that too, Willow. At least in that part of the Bible, Jesus sounds a lot like the Higher Power that we follow in NA.”

“I remember when you first mentioned the letters 'HP' to me. You spoke about him like he was a real person, and was helping you. To be honest, I thought you were a little flaky there. But now I know what you mean. Boy, do I! If it weren’t for my HP, I’d have relapsed on drugs and probably be back in Juvie.”

“So how was your first time at church as Willow?”

“Not bad – I liked it! And being next to you? I LOVED it!”

“I’ve got to secure the board here for next Sunday. I’ll text you tonight as always, OK? I won’t make it too late because tomorrow’s your first day back at school.”

“I shall await your message, my hero. Bye!” With that, Willow hopped down the stairs. “Well! This was a wonderful morning,” she muttered to herself as she descended. As she stepped onto the floor level, a large hand grabbed her left upper arm. She turned her head to see a balding middle-aged man invading her personal space. He had rage written all over him.

“Son, the next time you set foot in this building, I expect you to be wearing slacks, a jacket, and a tie. How dare you flaunt what you’re doing in God’s face, in our faces! Dress right, or don’t come back!”

Willow looked right back at him plaintively. “And if I do come back like this … ?”

“DON’T,” the man growled. He then looked to his right and his left and skulked away.

Willow felt the sting of the rebuke, even though it was undeserved. Her eyes squinted shut and her mouth puckered as she felt the words slowly ebb. “So much for the “wonderful morning”. Spoke too soon,” she said under her breath.

As she stood there, she felt a hand once more grab her left upper arm. She quickly reacted – “Hey! Sir, leave me alone!” Then she saw to whom the hand belonged. It was a teenage girl with an anxious face.

“You’re Willow, right? The transsexual?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I need you to follow me. Hurry!” The girl then took off running down the hallway that led to the church classrooms.

As Willow ran, the hallway got progressively darker. They were shutting down the building lights. Either that or I’m running into a trap, she worried.

The girl she was following stopped in front of a classroom door, and opened it. The room was pitch black except for a slim window that let in a little light from the outside. “Go in there,” panted the anxious teen.

Willow balked. “Uh-uh. No way. You’ve got a bunch of dudes in there ready to beat on me.” She started to turn and run back to the foyer.

“NO! No, please! It’s my little brother! You’re the only one!” anxious girl urged.

Willow still wanted to run. But something in this desperate gal rang as authentic. HP, what do I do?

In her mind she heard Dr. Estrada’s voice: face your fear, keep on walking. Then in Julia’s voice: you can’t stay clean and sober unless you reach out to those in need; it may mean taking a risk.

Okay, HP. But if I get killed, I’m blaming you.

She stepped into the dark room and felt for a light switch. Finding one, she turned it on.

There in one of the classroom chairs sat a young boy, maybe about ten or eleven years old. He had obviously been crying. But now he looked with wonder at this girl who had entered.

“Are you Willow? The girl from the Action 6 News prom thing? Your eyes look different.”

“Yeah, I can’t reproduce that professional smoky eye just yet. Who are you?”

“I’m … Amanda.”

“Amanda?!”

The boy began to cry, and rose out of his chair. He ran to Willow and grabbed ahold of her waist as he bawled uncontrollably. Willow gradually realized what was happening. She wrapped her arms around the youth and squeezed tight.

"Amanda ... you're like me, aren't you?" whispered Willow.

The child nodded her head and continued to weep,

Through her sobs, Amanda recounted how she’d known she was a girl for as long as she could remember. Her parents, especially her father, wouldn’t allow it and had punished her for mentioning it. She felt trapped and desperate. The only one she had to confide in was her sister.

“Well, Amanda; now you’ve got me to talk to, also,” Willow assured him with a tight squeeze.

“But how can we do that?”

“Do you have a cell phone? Give me your number.”

Willow called the number Amanda gave her.

“There. Now we’ve got each other in our phones. Text me later when it’s safe, maybe after you’ve gone to bed, okay?” whispered Willow.

Amanda and her sister left so their father wouldn’t get angry trying to find them. Willow went back to the church foyer, where the rest of her family was waiting.

“Hey there, Weeping Willow. What are you crying about now?” Angie asked.

“Oh! Yeah, I guess I have been,” Willow sniffed. “Don’t worry. These are tears of thankfulness. I think God’s using me to do some good stuff. It’s about time; I’ve screwed up so much of my life, I needed to start canceling some of it out.”

~o~O~o~

The next day – the first day of school this Fall semester at Montclair High.

“Hello, class. This is Basic Geometry, what you could call Geometry 101. I’m your teacher, Ms. Moscowitz. You say it like I just said it, and you spell it like I’ve written on the dry erase board here.

“Before we start today’s lesson, I want to introduce you to one of your fellow students. Actually, it’s a re-introduction; this student was Bill Ramos in his freshman year. He’s been gone for the last part of freshman year and all of his sophomore year. Now he’s back, but he’s no longer a “he”. I’m speaking of Willow Ramos. Willow, could you come up here, please?

“You may remember her from TV news PromPosal feature last spring. In any event, she has graciously agreed to stand here and meet you all, and answer questions you may have. Because once I start my lesson, there will be no murmuring or talking, understand? Also, keep the questions respectful, free of profanity, and free of any sexual talk. Otherwise? Detention.”

“What do you consider a sexual question?” one smart-aleck in the back yelled.

“If you’re wondering if your question is sexual – THEN IT IS, SO KEEP YOUR TRAP SHUT,” dictated Ms. Moscowitz. “All right, Willow. Shall we proceed?”

Willow nodded. Boy, if all of my teachers are like this, it may be a smooth running semester, she thought.

~o~O~o~

“Father Wilson. Your 4 o’clock appointment is here.”

“Yes. Mrs. Eiken and Willow. Go ahead and send them back.”

The mother and daughter entered the room and exchanged quick pleasantries.

“So, you two. I saw you were at services on Sunday. Was there a problem?”

“Well, some middle-aged man grabbed my arm and threatened me. But I think he was trying to scare me off more than anything,” Willow responded. “I’m really here for another reason.”

Willow told of her encounter with Amanda, being careful not to name names.

“So, I’ve been texting back and forth with her every day this week.”

“What are you telling me this for?” asked the Father.

“A few reasons. One, I don’t want to conceal from you this new relationship I have with a young church member. I don’t want you thinking I’m going behind your back. I didn’t ‘win her over to the trans side’; I just responded to her urgent plea.

“Two, I would appreciate it if you would consider talking to this girl’s father. He needs to know it’s not okay to threaten his child with physical punishment, or with being disowned. According to this child, that’s what has happened. I have to believe that Jesus wouldn’t be okay with that. Would you talk to the father if I told you his name?”

“Perhaps," answered the minister. "However, I ask that you stop texting with this boy. You’re not a licensed church minister, and you’re interfering with the parent-child relationship.”

Willow calmly addressed that statement. “She’s not a boy; she’s a girl. And I wasn’t acting as a minister; it’s just coincidence that we met inside a church. All of our contact since has been via text when we’re in our homes. As to this parent-child relationship? It needs to be interfered with. This girl is suffering; she’s the kid you read about in the obituaries, killing themselves before they get out of high school.”

The Father grunted in frustration. “You’re asking me, once again, to accept a trans–“

“No, I’m not,” interrupted Willow. “You don’t have to accept anything. I’ll do the accepting. What I need you to do is exercise your influence on the girl’s father. Get him to back off the threats. Tell him and teach him to love his kid unconditionally, in spite of their disagreements. You don’t have to tell him that the TV transgender girl is talking with his kid; in fact, DON’T tell him.”

Father Wilson once again removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes; he sighed heavily.

Willow smiled and leaned over to grasp the minister’s hand. “Father. Just re-read that Sermon on the Mount thing you talked about on Sunday. You know the right thing to do. Be brave, and do it! I’ll be so proud of you.”

“All right. Give me the man’s name. I’ll do my best to help, young ma-“

He caught himself. “ah … young lady.”

Willow smiled big. “See? I’m proud of you already!”

~o~O~o~

To be continued ... well, my statement at the beginning.

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Thanks for reading!