Uncle
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

“I don't want you to get you haircut,” my mother said. She was suddenly very serious, and I could see that something was wrong. It seemed like fear in her eyes.

“It's just a haircut, Mom,” I said. I was struggling to see what the big issue was. But there was something very wrong. I looked at her in a way that I thought demanded an answer.

“Dylan,” she said, taking my hands in hers, her eyes moist with impending tears. “Your uncle is out of prison. He is coming here next week. You have to go back to being Diana.”

“Diana?” I asked: “Who is Diana? What are you taking about Mom?”

“Maybe you were too young to remember,” she said. “But you asked me about the stuff in the box with the flowers on it, a few years ago, remember?”

I recalled that I did ask her about the box in the back of my wardrobe. It had in it some mementos of when I was very young. There were some odd toys in there. Toys that did not seem to belong in there. Girl's toys. And there was a small pink dress and some hair decorations. And I remembered all of those things from many years ago. They had been mine, but they could not have been. I was a boy. A young man in fact. A little late into puberty. But liked action movies, shooter games and boys’ sports. I even had a girlfriend of a kind. But somewhere in my past I knew I had been less than male. I had always felt that I needed to be as manly as possible. Was I hiding my past as Diana?

What I did know was that my uncle was a very bad guy. I was not aware of the details, but I knew of him not only from my mother, but my grandmother and others from our old home town. People from there who had visited us remembered my uncle. None of them had a good word to say about him, or my late father for that matter. I knew my uncle was in prison for sexual offences, but I heard that he had escaped conviction on worse charges. It was rumored that he had killed people. We had reason to be afraid of him.

“I think you are entitled to a full explanation,” my mother said. “You are old enough now. And before you do what I ask you need to know why. You need to know the full story.”

She led me into the living room and we sat down. She began to explain:

“Now you know your uncle is gay. And there is nothing wrong with that. Most gay men are very nice. But not your uncle. He is a predator. You know that word. I have always known that he preyed on young men. My family have always known it. He has done the most awful things to young boys. Even members of our own family. But he is not interested in girls, not at all. When you were born, to protect you we told him that you were a girl – Diana. We dressed you to be a girl, at least when he was around. We had to treat you as a girl too. We made sure that you did all the boy things as well, whatever you wanted, even when you were Diana at the same time. It was just to protect you from him being interested in you; or attracted to you. Do you understand? Well, it worked. He never laid a finger on you. Since your uncle has been in jail you have lived a normal boys life, so your grandmother and me, we always felt that we had done had done the right thing. We did it to save you from him. And now, well, while he was away you could go back to being Dylan. You forgot all about being Diana. I am happy that you are a normal boy.”

Some memories of that life were starting to come back. I remembered telling somebody that my name was Diana. I had sudden glimpses of another life, many years ago. Before my father was killed.

“Why didn't we just get away from him?” I asked. “Why can't we do that now?”

“That's another story,” said my mother. “All I can tell you now is that he is family, and I owe him a sort of debt. But now that grandma is dead he has nobody. I don't want him to stay. I am sure he will not want to stay out here in the country. But until he goes, the only way out is for you to be Diana again. He only knows you as Diana.”

“I am not sure what you are suggesting, Mom. Are you saying that I should dress up like a little girl again?”

She was. She looked at me imploringly, and said: “As a girl, yes. You are not so little any more. Just for a while. Just until he has gone. Until it is safe for you.”

“I don't think I could do it,” I said. “Even if I was prepared to, I don't think I could pull it off. Look at me. I couldn't pass for a girl.”

“You used to love being a girl,” she said.

I was thinking: Was that right? Did I?

“And what about school?” I pleaded. “What about my friends? One day I just turn up dressed as a girl? It's crazy. It could never work. We just need to go into hiding. Or maybe it's me who needs to go into hiding. That would be easier.”

“He's expecting to see his niece,” she said. “If we do this right, he won't stay too long. I will arrange your absence from school.”

***

Back in my room my mother pulled a suitcase in from the hall cupboard.

“You need to put all these things in your wardrobe and your dresser and put all your boy things back in the suitcase,” my mother said.

The suitcase was full of girl’s clothes. There were dresses, and tops, skirts and girl’s jeans and leggings. There was underwear – panties including special form shaping panties. Bras and inserts for the bras. Even winter sweaters, and hats and scarves. It was clear that she had been preparing this well in advance.

“These things look like they are my size. How long have you been planning this, Mom?” I asked.

“I knew that he would be out around now if he behaved himself in prison. Maybe even a little earlier. I requested advance notification and I got that yesterday, so I had some time to get some things. He is in a half-way house for a week – part of the terms of his release on parole - and then he will be coming here.”

She then took me by the shoulders and with a serious look on her face she said to me: “I have confession. It was so important to me that we get through this that I have been giving you something in your morning juice to postpone puberty and make it easier for you to be Diana. Forgive me, but I am sure it will prove to be a good idea.”

I was shocked. Then angry. I shouted: “How could you?! That’s why I am the only boy in my class whose voice hasn’t broken! Mom!”

“I don't want this,” she said. “I just want him to leave you alone. This is the only way I know.”

When we had put everything away she brought a mirror in from the garage and fitted it to my dressing table. She had a box of stuff that she spread over the top and slipped into the top drawer – hair stuff and makeup. She sat me down in front of it all.

“Your hair is long, but not long enough,” she said. “I will make an appointment at the salon in Moorefield and we will drive over their tomorrow to get extensions put in. But we can work on this face. You are a teenager now, so you need to look like a teenage girl.”

Before I knew it, she had some tweezers out and was pulling hairs from my eyebrows. I howled and put up a fuss, but I stopped when she started to cry.

“This is such as mess,” she sobbed. “I am hurting you. I am scared – scared for you. Maybe you are right. Maybe we should just go into hiding.”

Without a father, I had always been very protective of my mother. She was genuinely upset, and I needed to reassure her. I looked at myself in the mirror and said to her: “Well its done now. One eyebrow at least. You had better do the other. Don’t worry Mom. We can do this. I will be Diana for a few days. After that I will need to wear a baseball cap to hide these eyebrows.”

She finished the work and seemed happy with the results. It seemed incredible but just the loss of a few hairs made me look suddenly quite girlish.

“Girls you age wear a little mascara and lipstick,” she said. “I will put some on, but you really need to know how to do it yourself. So, pay attention …”.

Then she had me slip on a simple dress just before I heard my grandmother come in and call out to us. Mom had me put on girl’s sandals before going downstairs with her.

“Diana,” exclaimed my grandmother. “I am so pleased to see you again after all these years.” She came up and hugged me.

“It’s me Gran,” I said, just in case she was going crazy.

“Of course, it is,” she whispered. “But Diana for the few weeks.”

“Weeks? I thought it would be a couple of days.” I was starting to get worried.

“We can’t turn him out,” she said. “He is my son. Your mother’s brother. He has problems that we must help him through.”

“No Mother,” said my Mom to Gran. “He is not staying here. I can put him up for a while. If you want him on your couch after that, you can have him.”

My grandmother glared at my mother. “You owe him,” she said, accusingly.

“Come and help me in the kitchen, Diana,” she said. “This is what you will need to do while he is here. You will stay close to me throughout this. My shadow. “Mommy’s helper.”

It sounded like a nightmare. But I had agreed to it, so I needed to do my best.

***

That evening I ate with my mother and grandmother who barely talked to one another. I finished my homework, so it could be dropped off at school and then watched TV after Gran had gone home. I wore the dress throughout. It found it really easy to wear.

I checked myself out in the mirror a couple of times. My hair was not so short, and I thought that maybe I could pass for a girl without having long hair. But Mom said we were doing it.

I had a dream that night. I dreamed that I was a beautiful princess with long golden hair, like Rapunzel but not as long. I loved to comb my hair. A handsome prince fell in love with me. We rode off on his pony with the long blonde tail.

The strange thing was that I remember having this dream before – more than once. I could not remember ever having seen the movie ‘Rapunzel’ but I seemed to know every line. And ‘The Little Mermaid” too. And a movie about ponies with tails like my hair in the dream.

I stayed in the car while Mom dropped my homework off at school. I wore a cap low to hide my face, or the top of it. Then we drove to Moorefield.

On the way I asked my mother: “Have I ever seen the movie ‘Rapunzel’?”

“Are you kidding?” she exclaimed. “When you were Diana it was your favourite movie. We had it on DVD and you watched all the time. That and some other movies. You like all those girly movies most of all. I told you, you loved being a girl back then. I think you should find it easy to get back into that groove, if you let it happen.”

We arrived at the salon and I got out of the car. I was wearing another dress, so that it just looked like a mother taking her daughter in for styling. But this time as I was in public my mother had me wearing a special panty under the dress. First there was a thong that I put on to pull my penis back between my legs and push up my balls, and then over that was another panty that held everything in place and gave me a flat front and a rounded bottom. It was seriously uncomfortable at first, but I got used to it.

We looked at some extensions. I was really going to go along with whatever my mother wanted but when I saw the long golden tresses I said: “That’s what I want.”

“That’s a wonderful color but it will need to be closer to your own hair colour,” said my mother. “And honestly, that is way too long.”

“I want that and color my hair to match”. I said it, but I was not sure why. It was like the old Diana that I had been was taking over seeking to fulfill a dream.

“She is fair,” said the hairdresser. For some reason the recent growth seems even more blonde. She may need some work at the roots, but this color could work, if that’s what you want, Sweetie.”

“That’s what I want,” said the voice coming out of my mouth.

***

Two days later my uncle arrived at our home. I had been expecting a man that looked like a monster, or at the very least, creepy. He was neither of those. He was tall and strong. He had light brown hair like my mother and some hints of family likeness, but very masculine. A man who can make lesser males, just like me, feel inadequate. There was no doubt that he was not a person to mess with.

My grandmother looked very pleased to see him. She wept as they embraced.

He hugged my mother too, but things were a little more tense. He said: “Thanks for putting me up like this Sis, its more than I could expect.”

“No, it’s not,” she said. “You are in mother’s old room. She has a unit at the retirement complex down the road now, so we have room for you.”

To me he just said: “Hello Diana. When I last saw you, you were only a little girl. Now you seem so grown up.” He had a smile on his face that seemed genuinely friendly. I wondered if this was the smile he used to charm his victims.

But I needed to suppress any such thoughts. I needed to be extra friendly to show him that I knew nothing about him. I put my arms in a position to hug him, but fortunately he was not interested. I thought that Mom was right, he was not interested even in meeting girls.

“We will get time to talk,” he said. “Do you have a boyfriend yet?”

I thought it was just as well I did not as he would be more interested in him. But I just said: “Not yet Uncle. I ‘m only just 14.”

“At 14, and as pretty as you, you should have at least three boyfriends. I would love to meet them.”

He was grossing me out, so I felt that I needed to say it: “I know you are gay Uncle. You’re not looking to steal my boyfriends, are you?”

He laughed. He seemed so good humored and relaxed that it seemed hard to imagine that he was the monster I knew he was. I saw my mother looking at me in shock. She made signals to me to stop this kind of talk.

“I am not sure that I would call myself gay,” he said. “But it’s true, I am not attracted to girls, even pretty ones like you. I just think of myself as sexually unconventional. Do you think you know what that means?”

My mother broke in: “I think that we will consider the discussion of sexuality not appropriate for this young lady. That subject will be off limits during you stay. You too, Diana. It is not for discussion.”

I was pleased that I had the exchange with my Uncle. It seemed to me that I had established that Diana was not at risk, but also that he could consider me as family. When we sat down to dinner – just him and three generations of the womenfolk of his family, he seemed relaxed. As long as I was Diana, we could co-exist without danger. Hopefully only for a few days.

***

And we did co-exist. That day, and the next, and the next. I did studies in my room and otherwise I just stuck with my mother. I helped her do the cooking and helped her clean the house and arrange the flowers. I even helped her with her sewing and learned to use the sewing machine.

Initially I did this for show, but even when Uncle was out I did the same things. I needed to keep active, and without friends to play around with, I would go crazy without something to do.

“Why aren’t you going to school?” he asked.

“She’s between schools at the moment,” my mother answered for me. “We are looking to send her to Moorefield High. We are not happy with the local school.” It was a clever diversion on the hop.

“I am looking at work in Moorefield,” he said. I could take her in there in the mornings if you like. Maybe even bring her home later in the day.” My mother could barely conceal her horror, but he did not seem to notice.

***

In fact, he got that job in Moorefield the following day, and a few days after that he slammed down some papers on the table over dinner.

“There you are,” he said. “Enrollment at Moorefield High School confirmed for Diana. She starts Monday. I drive past that school every day on my way to work. I had to check it out if my niece was going there. There was some foul up in the paperwork. But as it happens they are keen to get the numbers up in her year, so…, well, it is done. I think you’re going to love it there Diana. Some good looking young guys there.”

We women just sat there shocked for a moment. I felt that I needed to say something, so I said: “Thanks Uncle. Monday? Great. I can’t wait.” Where was I heading now?

My mother complained to me in a quiet moment: “He has been here over a week. He seems to have made the room his own. Now he has a job in the next town and seems happy to commute. Will we ever get rid of him?”

“Mom,” I reassured her. “I can handle this. Honestly going to school as a girl seems no big task now. I need to get out of the house. I really am looking forward to it. A school where nobody knows Dylan. It will be Okay.”

“But I don’t know how long this will last.”

“We know that he doesn’t like women,” I said. “What we need to do is make this place such a girly place that he won’t want to stay.

“That’s such a great idea,” said Mom. We need flowers and perfume, and we should set our hair in the evenings. And toilet seat down, always.”

We both sniggered at the thought of just how girly we could be.

***

On the way to school the following Monday my Uncle explained himself: “I don’t know how long you have been out of school, but anybody can see that your mother is way too protective. I could see that you were going stir crazy. I thought, well if she’s putting off your enrollment I will find out. I checked at Moorefield High and they had never heard of you. So, I just signed you up then and there. You shouldn’t be at home under the thumb of your mother and grandmother. You should be with other girls your age. Are you Okay with this?”

“Sure,” I said. “You’re right. She is over-protective. She’s on her own after all. After Daddy died she has had nobody but me.”

“That’s the way she wanted it,” he said. I was not sure what that meant. My father had died in an accident. I had always understood that before that they were happy together. What was he saying?

He started work at 8:00am so he dropped me off before then, and I still had more than half an hour to wait for classes. There were some kids in that same position milling around.

“You’re new here?” I turned to see a boy talking to me. He was tall and good-looking. “I’m Adam. An early drop off like you I guess.”

“Hi,” I said, shyly. “I’m Diana.” I was suddenly worried that he would see through my disguise. I almost felt that if he glanced down he would be able to see my cock through my dress, although it was tightly tucked away.

“I love your hair,” he said, and then he immediately blushed. He had just blurted it out, and I could see that he wished he could take it back. I felt for him.

“Thanks,” I said. It was looking good that day. I had followed the instructions and used a soft brush until it shone. It was loose and just held back with a single clip by a side parting. I felt happy to be complimented. Maybe too happy. There were some butterflies in my tummy. It was a weird feeling.

“The doors open at 8, so we usually go down to the gym which is open now. Early birds just hang out there. Do you want to come?”

***

School was out at 2:30 so still had almost 2 hours to wait for my uncle to pick me up. I decided to sit near the front steps and look through some of my new text books.

It had been a successful day. I had met my teachers and some of my fellow students. I had met a girl Jill who had been delegated to be my minder. She was nice, but she seemed a bit studious and ‘teacher’s pet’ material. Still I lunched with her and her friends.

Happily, nobody had any idea that I was not a girl, although on more than one occasion I was called ‘a tomboy’. That would be hard to dispute. I wore a dress, and I would every day, to be feminine in front of my uncle, but despite my mother’s coaching I still had a male swagger in my walk.

What I found that I did not have to fabricate was girly talk. Somehow all the thoughts that I had as a little girl seemed to flood back and fill my head. Overlaid with some of the material from the teen magazines my mother had bought for me, talking was easy. The only new subject was boys.

Adam was not in any of my classes. He was probably a year or two ahead of me. But as I sat by the steps after school, he reappeared.

“Early drop off, late pick up?” he asked.

“Sad, but true,” I said. “Just until I get transport sorted out, my uncle brings me to school and will take me home.”

“Around 5:00?” he asked. “If you are waiting that long why not come around to watch ball practice. Bring your books if you like. I have practice most afternoons.”

“Sure.” I followed him. I sat in the bleachers. I still had a look at my books, but I watched the guys playing around and shouting and laughing. I thought: ‘that could be me’, but somehow, I did not feel like joining in, as I would have only weeks ago. I was just happy watching, playing with my hair and smiling when Adam looked up at me. It seemed like a cool way to kill the time.

Adam walked me to the front steps after practice. He was sweaty, but the smell of him was not unpleasant. In fact, it seemed almost sweet. He was still standing there when my uncle pulled up, driver side to the sidewalk.

He motioned for me to get in and thrust out a hand to Adam introducing himself. “I am Diana’s uncle,” he explained. “Prepping for the season opener?”

He and Adam chatted for a little bit while I sat waiting in the front passenger seat, fidgeting with the hem of my dress. Then we drove off.

“He seems like a nice guy,” said my uncle. “You are making friends already.”

“You’re not chatting him up are you Uncle?” I scolded. “He is too young for you.” Although I suspected that he was just the age he might be interested in.

“I’ll make you a promise,” he said. “I won’t make a play for your boyfriends if you don’t make a play for mine.”

***

About a week later I came down the steps after spending my waiting time in the library. My uncle was waiting for me.

“Jump in the back,” he said. “We’re giving Adam a lift home. Turns out he lives out on the road back to our town, about half way along.”

“Hi Diana,” said Adam from the front seat.

As I got in the back seat I started to think about what might happen to Adam. All I knew of my uncle was that boys were in danger in his presence. So much danger that I was pretending to be a girl to avoid his attentions. I started to panic a little.

I knew what I had to do. I said: “Sorry I wasn’t at practice to support you sweetie, I had study.” And I leaned between the seats in front, took Adam’s head in my hands and kissed him. It was a calculated thing. It was designed to say: ‘This is my boyfriend’. But after the initial shock, Adam got a bit carried away. That was hardly his fault – I started it. It is harder to explain why I took so long to pull my lips from his.

It took my uncle to end it: “Okay lovebirds, let’s get going.”

As I broke away I looked at Adam’s face. His eyes seemed to be wishing my lips back. I could feel it as if drawn to him by a magnet. But the acceleration put me back in my seat.

“No problem, Babe,” said Adam. “But I missed you. I was so busy looking for you I dropped 3 catches.”

He seemed to know that I had a reason for doing what I did, and he was playing along. But was he really looking for me in the bleachers this afternoon? Wow. I hoped so much that it was true.

***

The following day Adam was waiting for me at school. My uncle paused after dropping me off, so I felt that I had to go up to Adam. He took me in his arms and kissed me in front of my uncle. It was a tender kiss, a romantic kiss. The kind of kiss that little Diana had dreamed she would get one day – when she grew up to be a princess. I felt my body go limp. I was completely unaware that my uncle was long gone.

“I need to explain,” I said. I was still in his arms, but happy to be there. “My uncle is gay, and, well, I didn’t want him to think that you might be interested in him.”

“I guessed he might be,” said Adam. “Gay, I mean. I know some gay guys. I am Okay with it. I might even be a bit bi-curious myself.”

“I don’t know what that means,” I said. He was smelling my hair. It felt good.

“I hope you won’t be upset, but I have fucked a guy, before” he said. “He wanted it, and I gave it to him. He was happy to get it, and I was happy to give. I’m a pitcher. Not a catcher. I could never be interested in a guy like your uncle. It is pretty obvious to me what kind of man he is.”

I pushed him away, but just a little. For some reason, I still wanted to feel his hands on me. I said: “But you like girls, don’t you?”

“Pretty ones, like you,” he said. “With long hair, like this, and titties like those.”

“You’re teasing me.”

He laughed: “Sure I am attracted to girls, not guys. But I have satisfied myself that I am confident in my sexuality, so I can have sex with a guy without being afraid to be called gay. Labels are not important to me. But what you think about me is important to me, Diana. I would like us to be together, so I hope my sexual exploits will not scare you away.”

“All girls just want a guy who is so crazy about them, that he can’t see anybody else, boy or girl,” I said, wondering where this wisdom had come from all of a sudden.

“You mean there are other people on this planet?” he asked with a grin.

“Just me,” I said.

“That’s the way I want it,” he said.

“And you are telling me that you wouldn’t mind if I had a penis?” I asked.

“Baby, if you had a penis I would make you cum an ocean,” he said. “But I want you just the way you are.” His arms enveloped my again. He just held me for a while, and the lifted my chin to kiss me again.

Now I knew. I was in love.

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2018