The Princess and the Plague (Life after Camp Kumoni) By Anistasia Allread Edited by none other than Nick B “You’ll have to tell my mom.” “I already have.” Dr. Barts winked.

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Eric lay curled up on his bed. He had closed the shades on his window and turned off all of the lights except his small desk lamp.

His cell phone rang. His eyes darted to it, but he made no movement to answer it. A few moments later, the voice mail alarm sounded. He closed his eyes trying to will the world away.

His cell phone began to ring again. He sighed, picked it up and looked at the caller I.D. He swiped it open and put it to his ear, “Yes, what do you want?”

“Are you okay?” Samantha asked.

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

“So you saw the pictures then?”

There was a pause, “Yes.” Samantha affirmed.

“Well, that didn’t take long.”

“Do you want company? I can come over.”

“No.”

“Would you like me to call Tricia?”

“No.”

“Eric. . . “

“Nothing will change will it,” Eric stated. “Is the picture posted on the Warthog website yet?”

There was another pause. “Yes.” Samantha listened to Eric’s slow easy breathing. “Eric?”

“What?”

“Can I please come over?”

“No, I feel like being alone.”

“Eric, you’re scaring me.” Samantha’s voice was tense, “You’re sounding like Summer before she… died.”

“I won’t kill myself. It would delight too many people.”

“Don’t say things like that, Eric, please.”

“Why? it’s true.” Eric mumbled. “Greg and Tyler would laugh until they pissed their pants. Then they’d laugh some more. Then they would spread even more vicious rumors about me.

“We’ll just have to show them all,” Samantha stated.

“Sure, like that will ever happen. The Greg’s and Tyler’s and Josh’s of this world will always have an easy ride. They will always have someone there to bail them out, someone to give them breaks that others can’t get. And when they die people will have nothing but good to say about them. They will never get shown anything, Samantha.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“I’ll come by in the morning so that we can do that run through,” Samantha promised.

“Sure, whatever.”

Eric hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, making sure it hit a pile of clothes instead of a wall. The act didn’t make him feel any better.

“Fuck!” he swore.

“Hey!” his mother called from down stairs, “Watch your language.”

Eric looked around his room, he was angry and hurt and wanted to take it out on something, wanted to break something.

He stormed into his bathroom, having found nothing to vent on. He slipped out of his clothes and stepped into a shower.

–o0o–

“Are you ready to go?” Samantha asked as Eric answered the door.

“Yes,” Eric sighed. He called back into the house. “Mom, I’m going out with Samantha for a bit.”

“Be back by noon, we have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon.”

“Yes, Mom.” He shut the door behind him.

“We’ll have to walk to Tricia’s for a month or so, until I get my driver’s license,” Samantha informed.

“When is your birthday?” Eric inquired.

“November eleventh. Once I get my license, I’ll pick you up and take you to Tricia’s then drive all three of us to school.”

The two walked down the street in silence. The only sounds were from the street traffic, the call of swallows and finches, as well as the soft sounds of their feet on the sidewalk. Summer was coming to a close. It was still warm out, but traces of autumn could be scented in the soft breeze that stirred.

“Are you feeling any better?” Samantha asked.

“About what?”

“About the fountain thing.”

Eric shrugged. “I’ll get over it.”

“I called Tyler and told him he was an ass for doing that,” Samantha commented.

“Oh.”

“What did your mother do?”

“She was in a store and didn’t see anything other than me in the fountain. She wanted to call security or the cops, but I warned her against it.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because it wouldn’t have done any good and if they got in trouble they would only take it out on me two-fold,” Eric told her.

“How do you know?”

“Because that is what always happens when they do something like that.” Eric’s voice was hurt. “They get a slap on the wrist, but I’m the one that feels the pain. It’s just like that whole flagpole incident. They did that in retaliation to me ratting them out as the ones who dragged me out of the shower after gym class and locked me in the equipment room naked and wet.”

“They did what?” Samantha was dumbfounded.

The two turned down a side street.

“You heard me.”

“I didn’t hear that they did that to you.” Samantha looked alarmed.

“When I was found by the custodian that afternoon, I spent an hour in the Vice Principal’s office writing out a report naming the ones who did it.” Eric’s face was twisted in pain as he related the story, “The Assholes retaliated with the flagpole.”

“I’m sorry,” Samantha meant it.

“I just wish I could either transfer schools or be home schooled,” Eric thought aloud. “But if I transfer schools, I’ll just end up at the butt end of that school’s Greg and Tyler’s bullying. It would just take a few months for them to figure out who I was.”

“What did your parents do?” Samantha asked.

“Nothing.” Eric grumbled. “The whole episode was swept under the rug by the school as a misfortunate incident. They couldn’t put jock scholarships in jeopardy after all.”

“But still…” Samantha was appalled.

“Please, drop it, Samantha.” Eric pleaded. “It just gets me more depressed.”

The two walked in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts.

They walked up to Tricia’s front door. Samantha knocked. “Well, we’re trying to do something about it now… Erika.” She stressed that last word.

Eric gave her a weak smile.

Tricia greeted them with excitement. “Good morning.” She took note of Eric’s somber face, “What’s wrong?”

“Eric had a bad day yesterday,” Samantha informed her.

“Uh oh, what happened?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Eric replied with a sharp look at Samantha.

“So how long did it take you two to get here?” Tricia questioned.

Samantha looked at her cell’s clock and frowned, “Twenty minutes.”

“You’ll have to work on speeding that up,” Tricia observed. “Come on up.”

The three climbed the stairs to Tricia’s room.

“I cleared a part of my closet out for you.” Tricia showed them. “It’s not much, but it will do for now.”

“Thanks Tricia.” Eric smiled.

“One question I had was; did you want me to pick and lay out an outfit for you, or would you rather put it together yourself?”

“I think for now, I wouldn’t mind you getting it ready for me.” Eric suggested.

“Okay,” Tricia went into the closet, pulled out a Erika’s breast forms, gaffe, skirt, nylons, camisole and a top. “Go get changed. Samantha, time him.”

Eric took the armful into the bathroom and began to sort out the outfit.

Tricia leaned up against the bathroom door, “I picked out the most time-consuming outfit for you to put on, to see how long it takes you.”

A few minutes later, Erika opened the door to show her two friends.

“You’re going to have to start learning how to do your hair and makeup yourself.” Tricia observed. “I’ll do it today, but you’ll need to be doing it during the school week. I’ll be busy getting my own stuff done.”

“I’ve been doing it most of the Summer.” Erika protested.

Tricia sighed. “That was minimal. You’ll need to be doing a bit more for school.”

Tricia stood beside Erika as they looked in the mirror. Tricia explained what she was doing to Erika’s face and why. She then showed Erika how to use a flat iron, and a curling iron.

“How long did that take?” Tricia asked Samantha.

“Too long,” she reported. “Dressing took just over five minutes, which is kind of understandable, but you’ll have to really do better on hair and makeup. Throwing your hair in a ponytail will work occasionally, but you don’t want to become one of those girls who only wears her hair one way. Some days you can get away with just mascara and maybe a little lip gloss, but again, you don’t want to develop a habit of looking like you don’t care.”

Tricia looked at the other two. “Shall we get some lunch?”

“I promised my mother I would be back at noon. I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Leeza can drive you home. That would give us enough time.”

Erika nodded.

Tricia smiled, “I’ve got it all downstairs.”

The girls went down to the kitchen, where Tricia presented them with a plate of various sandwiches, vegetables and treats.

“Been busy?” Samantha observed.

“I like to entertain,” Tricia admitted. “Would you like tea?” She asked bobbing a curtsy.

Tricia seated them around the table and poured them some tea. “Leeza should be home in just a few minutes. After we are done eating, you can shower and change, then she can take you home.”

“Who knows about us doing this?” Erika questioned.

Tricia looked confused.

“Do your parents know that I’m coming over to change at your place?” Erika asked.

“No. They know that you will be stopping by before and after school, but they don’t know why.”

“What about Leeza?”

“She believes that your mother knows, but your father doesn’t, and that is why you have to change here instead of home. So, your dad doesn’t find out, yet. Which is kind of true,” Tricia gave a weak smile.

–o0o–

Eric followed by his mother entered Dr. Barts waiting room. Eric picked up a National Geographic and collapsed into one of the chairs.

“How often will I have to come to Dr. Farts office, anyway?” Eric asked.

“That depends upon you and her.” Mrs. Martin ignored the slight towards the doctor.

“Mrs. Martin?” Dr. Barts called.

Eric’s mother greeted the psychologist and joined her.

Eric thumbed through the magazine looking at the colorful glossy pictures, colorful fish on a coral reef, bright yellows and blues, pink’s and oranges. The thought of water brought with it the memories of the mall and the fountain. He didn’t realize how tightly he was holding the magazine until he heard the slight tearing of paper. He took a deep breath and forced himself to hold the magazine more lightly. He looked about and found another magazine and exchanged the one he held for it.

Three more days.

Three more days until school started. Erika would have to forget those that Eric knew; forget the teachers; forget the hatred for those who played pranks on him. She would even have to lose her way around the school to play the part of a new student.

“Eric, are you ready?” Dr. Barts asked from the door.

His mother was already speaking with the receptionist. Eric cleared his head and smiled at Dr. Barts as he joined her. Once in her office, Eric flopped down in a chair allowing it to swallow him as if he was a snail hiding from the world in its shell. The sweet smell of the office was becoming familiar to him. It carried with it the feelings of anxiety, overlaid with a thin layer of safety. Dr. Farts was one that he was supposed to bare his mind and soul and heart to, but a part of him was still panicky about anyone but his camp friends knowing.

Dr. Barts sat down in her chair and looked at him for a long while. “That’s a nice shirt you have on. Do you like Atreyu?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Eric looked over the room.

“Have you been to any of their concerts?”

Eric was surprised that she knew that Atreyu was a band. “Not yet. They were here this last summer, but I was at camp,” he shrugged.

“I heard you had an incident at the mall the other day.”

Eric looked at the floor and bit his lip.

“You want to talk about it?”

Eric shrugged again. “It won’t change anything. Not even you can change the past.”

“No, but it could help me understand what is going on in that incredible mind of yours.” She prodded.

“Some jerks from school saw me at the mall and decided to have some fun,” Eric explained with a dead tone in his voice. “They decided it would be funny to push me into a fountain.”

Dr. Barts nodded and changed the subject. “How was your slumber party?”

Eric’s mouth twitched as a sparkle touched his eyes.

“I take it, you had a good time?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?”

“We went shopping, then watched movies, ate pizza, you know, hung out.”

“Did you go to the sleep over as Eric or Erika?”

Eric blushed. “Erika.”

“And did you enjoy your time as Erika?”

Eric nodded.

“Why do you think you enjoyed being Erika?”

“I felt free, more comfortable.”

“How did you feel more comfortable?”

“I’m not sure. I think as Eric I am forced by society to act in a way that is uncomfortable, not really me, or who I am. I can let down that guard, those walls when I am Erika.”

“Can’t you allow Erika’s strength to seep into Eric, to bolster him? Make him more comfortable?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“What do you think would have happened if Erika had been pushed into the fountain?” Dr. Barts posed.

“Well, she would have screamed, then chased the bastard down and beat him.”

“Why couldn’t you as Eric have done the same?”

“As Eric, ‘The Plague’ I have no friends, no one to call to for aid, or to back me up. I would have people pointing, laughing as I was pummeled by Tyler.” Eric’s voice was venomous. “Erika on the other hand has been known to rally troops. Tyler would not fight back against her, nor would people passing by try and pull her from him, instead, others would probably come to her aid.”

“Eric, did you want to get up and kick his butt?”

Eric nodded. “I would like to, but as I told my friend Samantha, every time I have tried to fight back, I’ve always ended up in a worse situation. The flagpole incident was a retaliation for me going to the school admin over a prank.”

“Erika sounds like an interesting person.” Dr. Barts smiled.

Eric shrugged.

“Your mom says that you were wearing mascara when you were pushed into the fountain. Do you find yourself wearing makeup often?”

Eric shrugged, “Every once in a while. When I look in the mirror, I don’t look or feel ‘finished’. Putting on a bit of something seems to help. It makes me feel better.”

“I can understand that.” Dr. Barts agreed. “I don’t feel ‘finished’ if I don’t have a dab of perfume on.”

“It’s a wonderful scent by the way.”

“Thank you.” Dr. Barts sat looking at Eric loosing herself in her thoughts. “Could you do me a favor?”

“Depends,” Eric shrugged.

“Could you come as Erika next visit?”

“I thought the point of these sessions was to get rid of my wanting to be a girl.”

“Whoever told you that?”

“Isn’t that why my mother is making me come here?”

“No, Eric, your mother is bringing you here to try and help you figure out who you are, and to help you become comfortable with who you are.”

“Then why is she so adamant against me being Erika?”

“Have you ever considered that she may be mourning the possible loss of her son?”

Eric sat stunned into silence. “No,” he admitted.

“When she discovered that you were wearing mascara, did she get upset and demand that you stop wearing makeup?”

Eric swallowed. “No.”

“When she let you go spend the night at your friends as Erika, did she get upset?”

“She didn’t know that I went as Erika,” he defended.

“Didn’t she? How do you know?” Dr. Barts asked.

The shrink was beginning to make him start doubting himself. “She didn’t say anything about it.”

“Do you think it might be because she loves you and wants you to figure this out for yourself and to be happy with what you choose?”

“Then why won’t she let me be Erika at home?” Eric protested.

“Maybe it is because she hasn’t told your father yet and she is afraid that you might cause a rift in the family if you don’t present it to your dad in the right way.”

“Oh.” Eric felt abashed.

Dr. Barts sighed. “Eric, this situation that you are finding yourself in, this choice that you have to eventually make effects the people around you in ways that you might not have considered.”

Eric was silent.

“Your mother wants you to be happy. She hurts every time she sees you hurt. She gets depressed whenever you are depressed. You are going through a very difficult time right now; in a lot of ways, more so than other kids your age.”

Dr. Barts took a breath. “Your mother wants you to be happy, but your happiness may cost her the son that she gave birth to. The little boy that she bought trucks to play with, the man who is supposed to bring grandkids into her life. That is just the beginning of the effects your choice will have on people.”

“So you’re saying that I shouldn’t be Erika?”

Dr. Barts shook her head, “No, I’m saying that I want you to make an informed decision. I want you to know what this decision will do to those around you. Not just your family, but your neighbors, and classmates, to the barista at Starbucks. I want you to look at it from every possible angle before you choose to be Erika, or to choose to be Eric.”

“Wow, you’ve given me a lot of things to think about.” Eric admitted.

“That is my job.” Dr. Barts smiled. She paused, “So next time can I meet Erika?”

Eric nodded, “You’ll have to tell my mom.”

“I already have.” Dr. Barts winked. She stood up and escorted Eric to the door. “I’m looking forward to meeting Erika next week.”

“Okay.” Eric didn’t know what to say. He felt like he was being undressed and exposed to this person. Not just his body, but his mind and soul as well. He felt like he did the morning before he introduced his mom to Erika. “Thanks,” he almost squeaked as he left.

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To be continued…