Undercover Girl - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen – Jefferson’s Story

Marcus suggested that perhaps Jefferson might want to take a break before he began relating his story. Marcus and Police Officer Heddy Jelacic had joined in interviewing Jefferson at a comfortable counselling room at Hope Place. Jefferson nodded, agreeing to taking the break and wondered if they could find him some cranberry juice. Heddy volunteered to seek a can and left the room. Jefferson turned to Marcus and smiled. “You’re very pretty.”

“Thank you and you are, too,” Marcus replied.

“I’ve been reading about how we can become real girls, about the operation and all that,” the boy began tentatively.

“I’m aware of all that, but it’s so expensive.”

“I know, but I need to get it someday or else I’ll want to kill myself. I can’t live anymore as a boy.”

Jefferson began sounding morose and Marcus wondered if perhaps he might be changing his mind about telling his story.

“Jefferson, you can live perfectly well as a girl even without the operation, you know,” Marcus said in hopes of encouraging the boy.

“It’s not the same,” Jefferson said, tears forming in his eyes.

The conversation was interrupted as Heddy Jelacic entered the room. “I got you your cranberry juice, Jefferson, and I got some diet Cokes for us,” she announced.

Jefferson quickly composed himself, accepting the can of juice and said simply, “So what do you want to know?”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Heddy Jelacic said.

Jefferson looked at Marcus, smiled and began his story:

I was really happy when I first got to the Harrisons. It’s like they understood me. I guess they let me be me. You know, Mr. Harrison didn’t try to make me play baseball or do those boy things. Melody, my older foster sister, let me play with her make-up sometimes and even dressed me as her little sister – just like it was play-acting. We all giggled. Even my little foster brother dressed up sometimes.

The Harrisons seemed to have a lot of girls’ clothes. They said it was from when their daughters were little. I don’t think that was true.

“What led you to think it wasn’t true, Jefferson,” Heddy asked, interrupting the boy’s narrative.

“In all the time I was there, I never saw any family photos with little girls and I never saw any relatives visit them,” he replied. “Besides, those clothes looked almost like new and not something girls wore back twenty or thirty years ago.”

“Interesting,” Marcus mused.

“Continue with your story, Jefferson.”

Soon Mama Harrison began helping me dress up as a girl, showing me the finer points of makeup and how to do my hair. I think she must have been a hairdresser.

“You’re a pretty girl, Jefferson,” Mr. Harrison used to tell me.

And, Larry, too. They dressed him but at first he didn’t like it and cried. But suddenly, he seemed to like being a girl and playing with dolls and stuff.

Marcus frowned at the boy’s story, breaking in to say, “In my visits, I only saw boy stuff and I don’t think either Amy, Ms. Dacosta that is, or Ms. White ever mentioned you boys playing with dolls.”

Jefferson smiled. “They only let us be girls when they knew you guys wouldn’t be stopping by, like at night or weekends,” he explained. “And then they hid everything in an empty storage room. You guys never looked there, I don’t think.”

Then one night, Mama Harrison got me all dolled up and with the shortest little mini-skirt. And she did my hair real cute in cornrows. Can you figure – a white woman knowing how to roll my hair.

“You’re ready, dear,” she told me.

“For what?” I asked.

“You’ll see you’ll like it. Where you’re going they’re going to treat you like a princess. They really made me feel like a princess. I was a girl and I knew that’s what I wanted to be forever on. Even Melody said she was jealous of me, that I was prettier than she was. But she was just lying, ‘cause I think Melody is really pretty.

They didn’t tell me nothing, just put me in Papa Harrison’s car and drove me out to some fast food place where I was led to another car. It was big and black with windows so I couldn’t see out. And I was alone in the backseat. It scared me. But the big man in the front just yelled at me telling me if I didn’t shut up they’d get me transferred to another foster home. I didn’t want that. I loved the Harrisons. I guess I really loved that I could be a girl there and not be teased or scolded. So, I shut up.

I ended up at this mansion, but it looked real scary when I got out of the car and I started to scream. I knew something was wrong and I might get hurt. I kicked and screamed some more. They took me in and a nice older man tried to talk to me to calm down, but I said I was scared. He said no one was going to hurt a sweet little girl like me if I cooperated. I asked him what did I have to do? “Just be a good little girl and do what the nice man tells you to do and you’ll be rewarded. You’ll love it.”

“I just want to go home,” I told him and I started to cry. I couldn’t stop. The old man pleaded and soon he brought in the big man who was the driver of the car. He treated me rough, slapped me across the face and everything. I tried to run from him, but he caught me. My stockings tore and soon he tore my top a little bit. I cried and cried. And then you know I bit that man’s cock when he asked me to suck it. And then they got real rough and took me and a big man came into the room and dragged me to another room where they held me down and stuck a needle in me. The next thing I knew I was lying in the middle of the street back in the city, where I was later found. You know the rest of that story.

“Was the big man black or white?” Marcus asked, wondering if it was the same African-American who drove him during his escapade and who had been gentle and rather nice.

“White,” Jefferson replied.

“And you were too scared to tell us then what happened?” Heddy asked.

“Oh, my yes. I wanted to stay with the Harrisons and if I said anything more I know they’d be nasty and could hurt both me and maybe do something to Larry. They’re scary guys.”

“What about the car? What kind was it?”

“One of those big long black cars. Not like a limo and not like an SUV, but even bigger, almost like a truck.”

“Not like a big pickup truck?” Heddy continued the questioning.

“No, just like a big station wagon.”

“Possibly a Lincoln Navigator or big Chevy,” she suggested.

“I don’t know much about cars,” Jefferson said. “Sorry, but I did see part of the license plate, the first three letters, ‘H – W – Y and then I think an eight. Sorry, I couldn’t see any other numbers.”

Heddy brightened. “Jefferson. Don’t be sorry. You did fine.”

“What happened when you got back to the Harrisons?” Marcus asked.

Both Mama and Papa Harrison were mad at me. Mama didn’t even try to help me change the dressings on my wounds and Papa grabbed me by the arm and twisted and said I would get hurt even worse if I didn’t do what they say.

Well they had me dress up again and several weeks later they took me out to meet the same car in a different parking lot, this time at a mall. There were two men in the car, a big husky black man who seemed nice and talked to me . . . like . . . friendly like. The black guy drove the car and the other man didn’t talk much, but he acted all mean.

I knew I had to obey, or else there’d be more beatings and who knows what they’d do to Larry?

They led me into that same mansion and put me into a room where there was a large mirror. There was a lovely bed or couch or something like it, and a straight chair. The room was decorated with lavender and pink drapes. It was strange.

Then I heard a voice talk to me like it was coming from a speaker in the room. “Welcome lovely girl. I want you to pose now. Follow my orders. OK?”

And I said yes and they had me do all sorts of girlish poses, both standing up and laying in various positions. Like sexy, you know.

“Good girl,” they said to me after about ten minutes of posing. I guess that mirror was really a one-way glass and they could see like those cop shows on TV.

Then I was led out of the room and into another room where things got like horrible.

Jefferson broke down in tears and Marcus went over to hug him and let him cry for a few minutes.

“I’m scared, Marcus,” Jefferson said. “If they find out I talked, who knows what’ll happen to Larry?”

Marcus was astounded at the boy’s concern for his younger foster brother, even though in might have been Jefferson who would be targeted by the violent people involved in what was appearing to be a human trafficking group.

Hearing the boy’s comments, Officer Jelacic leaned over and put her hand over Jefferson’s. “Larry’s going to be safe, Marcus, as will Melody. Both were removed this morning from the Harrisons’ house and put into a temporary foster home while we sort this all out.”

The boy brightened. “Really, I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“We’ve protected you, haven’t we?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“We really need to hear the next part of your story, Jefferson, so we can stop these people from abusing young people. What happened when you got to the next room?” Heddy asked, urging him to continue.

“OK,” Jefferson said.

There was a man there. He was wearing only his underwear and he was big and strong and kind of smelly. Well, not bad smelly, more like he was wearing perfume and it was overpowering. I think it was because he was sweating.

“Hello, little girl,” he said to me.

He was smiling, but I didn’t like how he smiled. You know what I mean? Like he was going to hurt me. He told me how pretty I was and would I pose for him, which I did, even though I didn’t want to. He asked me to twirl around like I was in a fashion show and I kind of liked that. He said I had lovely legs and pretty arms. I just didn’t like the way he said it.

Then he told me to kneel before him and that I didn’t wanna do that. But he ordered me, “girl, do as I say or you’ll be beaten.” He was real mean, but he looked ugly and fat and I didn’t want get near him. But I did. I was scared.

He took down his shorts and spread his legs. And there was his cock. It wasn’t too big, but it was hard and he was breathing heavy. He had a hand on the thing and he was working it and moving back and forth.

“Suck it, little girl,” he ordered me.

But I shook my head ‘no.’

“Put your mouth on it, you sorry cunt,” he repeated.

Oh, God it was ugly. How could I? I had never done anything like that before. Then he grabbed my head and pushed it down on his cock and yelled, “Suck it, damn you!”

So, I did as he said, but I knew worse was ahead and that I had to get out of there. I had to think of something. As I took the wet thing into my mouth I got an idea. I bit hard into the cock and the man let out a scream and pushed me away. And then before he could do anything I stood up and as he stood up to confront me I jammed my knee into his balls, real hard. He doubled up.

I ran for the door and to my surprise found it unlocked. As the man bent over in pain I opened it, looked out and didn’t see nobody. So, I ran off. I knew we were in the basement and thought there might be an exit and there was one. There was a basement door and since the house was on a hill I was able to escape out into what seemed like a patio. Then I ran into the woods and hid in some bushes. And I heard them search, but after a while they must have given up because I didn’t hear them anymore. That’s when I called you Marcus and you picked me up.

Marcus was puzzled, wondering how the boy was able to keep his cell phone. Certainly, they would have search him. “Did they let you keep your cell phone, Jefferson?”

The boy assumed a mischievous smile. “No, they searched me for it, but it was small enough for me to hide in the bra under the breast forms.”

“Just like a girl to think of that,” Heddy said, laughingly. Then she became serious, asking, “Can you tell us anything more about the man?”

“Well he was big, with muscles and he had a big belly. Hairy, but bald.”

“You mean his body had hair on it? Dark or light hair?”

“Dark.”

“How old would you say?”

Jefferson thought for a minute. “It’s hard for me to say. He looked sort of old, like maybe forty.”

Marcus smiled. While he was still to reach thirty, he still considered forty to be quite youngish. He realized a teenager like Jefferson might have difficulty determining the age of an adult.

“Did you hear any names?” Heddy said, continuing her interrogation.

“I think his name must have been Mert, or Curt and Bert or something like that. I heard one of the guys say ‘Mert, or whatever his name, is ready for the girl,’ I guess referring to me.”

“Any other names?”

“No, I don’t think so,” the boy said.

“OK, Jefferson, you did fine. Anything else you can tell us?”

“I don’t think so . . . oh yes . . . I did hear the name ‘Mr. Browning’ said by one of the men who drove me.”

Marcus recalled that was the same name he heard. It seemed obvious now to Marcus that both he and Jefferson had been taken to a house likely occupied by the wealthy Browning family.

“Would you recognize the house if you saw it again?” Marcus asked.

“I think so, but I don’t want to see it again,” he pleaded.

“OK, I’ll remember that, Jefferson,” Heddy said with a smile.

“Thank you, Jefferson,” Marcus said as he and Heddy Jelacic arose to leave.

“You’re very pretty, Miranda,” the boy replied with a smile, arising and rushing into Marcus’ arms.

The two hugged for a moment. “Two pretty girls. What a lovely picture,” the police officer said.

*****
“What do you think, Heddy? Do you have enough now?” Marcus asked once they got into Heddy’s unmarked police vehicle.

“Normally, I’d say we do, but you know the DA’s office wants nothing to do with this case, so I guess we better get more evidence.”

Marcus shook his head in dismay. Since Officer Jelacic was busy trying to find a break in the traffic along the busy street, he decided to say nothing.

“Yeah, it stinks, Marcus,” Heddy said once they were moving along easily.

“I think it must go deeper than just the Browning guy,” he responded.

“Me, too. There’s obviously a cover-up,” she said.

Marcus looked out the car window as they cruised north on Plato Boulevard watching the heavy pedestrian traffic; most were young African-American men gathered in knots on street corners or lounging in front of liquor stores and convenience outlets. He mused that most were unemployed, victims of the blight that has attacked many neighborhoods in America’s rust belt cities.

“I bet half of those guys have jail records,” he said out loud.

“You’d be right,” Heddy nodded. “It’s an American tragedy.”

“How many prostitutes out there, do you think?” he asked, pointing to a few of the women, who wore shirt skirts and heavy makeup.

“What? Are you looking for work now that you’re fired?” she quipped.

“It’ll pay better than social work,” he said laughing.

They continued their drive, heading toward Officer Jelacic’s apartment where Marcus could change back into his male clothes. Heddy explained that she’d review her progress with Sergeant Simbach to see if he could suggest a next step.

“You better stay here the next few nights. You’ll be safe here,” Heddy said once he had changed. Heddy had a small apartment, but it had a tiny second bedroom that had a daybed with her computer desk, a chair and a small dresser.

“Is that necessary? I don’t want to put you out.”

“You won’t be. You can sleep here on the daybed. It’s not the greatest, but it sleeps pretty good. My mom sleeps here when she visits.”

“I suppose, but I’ll be inconveniencing you,” he said.

“Nonsense,” she replied. “Look they’re after you and you need to stay safe. They’re watching you and you know they’ll be there if I drop you off at your place now.”

“But I don’t have any clothes or personal items,” he argued.

Heddy thought for a moment.

“Tell you what. I’ll take a uniform with me and I’ll make a big show of having a search warrant and we’ll go into your apartment and bring out some of your necessities, including your computer, as if we seized it,” she suggested.

“But maybe I should go somewhere else,” he suggested. “You could get in trouble, couldn’t you?”

“Not really? There’s nothing in the regs that say I can’t have a roommate.”

*****
Marcus wondered whether Officer Hedwig Jelacic might have some idea that perhaps she and he could become lovers. It was true that the two of them seemed to have developed a friendly companionship, but he couldn’t imagine himself as her lover. Certainly, she would want someone who would be more masculine than he.

Heddy’s plan to rescue his clothes and computer by re-enacting a police raid worked to perfection. She had arranged it with the full support of her police sergeant, both knowing that the action placed their careers in jeopardy. Marcus quickly learned that Heddy had no romantic interest in him, regardless of what gender. The first night, he saw several pictures of a burly young man in army combat clothes, posing in front of Humvees, at a barracks and before a canteen.

“That’s Mike, my boyfriend,” she explained. “We’re engaged, but he’s in Afghanistan for the next four months.”

“Does he know about me staying here?”

“He knows about Miranda,” she said, smiling. “And he thinks you’re hot. I showed him that picture I took of you the other day.”

“He looks like a hunk,” Marcus said.

“Hands off darling. He’s all mine.”

“Awwww,” Marcus said, feigning disappointment. The two laughed and hugged each other.

*****
“Damn, you’re a great cook,” Heddy said to Marcus.

“Lasagna is easy to make,” he said. “Glad you like it.”

“I can see having you as a roommate has paid off,” she teased. “My house has never been this clean.”

“Now that I’m without a job and basically confined to quarters, I got time. Besides, I like doing housework.”

It was his second straight day at Heddy’s apartment and he already felt comfortable. Most of the time he dressed in female outfits, finding he and the officer wore clothes approximately the same size, even though Heddy was about an inch taller.

As he lay in Heddy’s daybed that night hoping to find sleep, Marcus found he missed Amy immensely; he longed to hold her firm, husky body in his arms. He wanted again to feel weak and soft next to her. He wished to kiss her heavy breasts and round tummy as he moved his lips down to her moist, musty crotch. He was her lesbian lover.

*****
Despite the fitful night he had, he awoke early the next morning, the cheerful song of a cardinal entering the room through a window left open to bring the cool evening breeze into the apartment. He lay for a moment, listening the bright lyrical chirps, enjoying the moment. Heddy had found a short nightgown for him to wear, his thoughts wandering over the pleasure and contentment he felt as a woman. He wondered whether Heddy was awake and listened closely but heard nothing from her room.

After few moments of heavenly reverie, he got up and tiptoed into the bathroom and sat down on the commode to pee (he rarely stood up now to relieve himself). When finished, he rose, looked at himself in the mirror, saw only a young woman with disheveled hair and sleepy eyes in the glass. She was pretty, wasn’t she, Marcus mused. It was not a question – it was the truth.

He took a quick shower, dried himself off and fixed his hair into a high ponytail, creating what appeared to him in the mirror as a spirited college girl. “Good morning, Miranda,” he said to the mirror image.

“You all done in there, Miranda?” Heddy asked, her voice coming from her bedroom.

“Yep, you ready for some bacon and eggs this morning?” he yelled back through the closed door.

The door opened and Heddy walked out, wearing only panties; she was bare-chested, her smallish breasts standing firm with the nipples pink and pointed.

Marcus realized his eyes must have betrayed his shock at seeing her body exposed since Heddy was quick to say, “What’s the matter with you. We’re just two girls here, aren’t we?

“Huh. Yeah. I guess . . .” he replied, still fumbling for words.

“Look, honey, you don’t have to make me breakfast. I usually just have a yogurt and a banana.”

“But I’d like to make you a nice breakfast, Heddy, that’s if you have time.”

She smiled at him. “I have time, but I didn’t expect you to do that.”

“It’ll be ready in fifteen minutes, OK?” Marcus said.

Heddy walked up to him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “By the way, you look cute this morning, Miranda.”

Marcus looked at her in surprise. “But my hair is a mess and I don’t have any makeup on,” he protested.

“Just like a girl,” she said, and turned to go into the bathroom.

Entering the kitchen, Marcus open the window so that he could hear the cardinal sing and then turned to the refrigerator to get out the bacon and eggs. He was enjoying these moments of blissful domesticity, his thoughts far removed from the possible danger that awaited him.

*****
That morning before she left for work, Heddy insisted that Marcus needed to dress in disguise if he left her apartment during the day. “I don’t see any sign of anyone tailing you this morning,” she said after she took a quick walk outside to check for the presence of any suspicious cars and people hanging around.

“Good, guess we ditched them then,” Marcus said.

“It looks that way, but they’re a resourceful bunch and they may want to check into this place eventually, so if you go out you better be in a disguise, but it’d be best if you stay put here.”

“I’m supposed to meet Latesha for lunch today,” he said. “Don’t worry. She won’t give me away and we chose a small diner over on 13th Street called ‘Miss Mattie’s.’ No one will suspect we’d be there.”

“Miss Mattie’s. That’s a great soul food place. Sounds OK, but you going out as Marcus or Miranda? These guys know you as both.”

Marcus smiled. “I’d like to go out as Miranda.”

“I thought you would,” Heddy laughed. “That’s OK, but don’t get all dolled up. You’re so damned cute and pretty you’ll draw attention to yourself. I don’t know how you can dress to look dowdy.”

The two went into Heddy’s bedroom and after some indecision agreed that he should wear a pair of well-worn, but untorn, women’s jeans, a camisole under a simple beige blouse and moderately soiled gray running shoes. Over that, Marcus would wear a simple dark windbreaker.

They decided to fix his hair into a bun, similar to that worn by the stereotypical librarian.

“Well, you look halfway ordinary, Miranda,” Heddy said. “But dammit, you’re so fucking cute.”

Once Heddy had gone off to work, Marcus went to work on his computer, seeing what he could learn about the Browning family of Madison Heights. Even though he was deeply engaged in his search, his mind still wandered to his apparently doomed relationship with Amy.
(To be continued)
(Thanks to Eric for skillful proofreading and constructive suggestions to clear the Author's sometimes confused plot)