I was in a traffic jam. It was a dead jam, not even crawling. There was no way to escape while it was a one-way street. Like most streets in the neighborhood of Portland High School where I’d worked. One way streets usually worked well to prevent traffic jam to form but not today. The only exit from employees parking opened into Chestnut Street. It was a one-way street. I was driving down the Chestnut Street then the right turn into Congress Street. Then again there was the right turn into Elm Street, a one-way street too. After crossing the Cumberland Avenue Elm Street was coming to Turnpike exit and... The traffic jam was almost dead.

I got an apartment within walking distance from my work. It had a designated slot in the underground parking. I was usually walking on foot to the school and back home but not today. Today was Mom’s birthday and after work, I was about to drive to my parents' home in Oakdale. It was within walking distance too. I was walking from there to school one mile every day as a high school student years ago. I needed my car to go to Woodfords were I’d ordered flowers for Mom.

I was sitting in my Scout in the middle of Elm Street and waiting for the jam to start moving. The cyclist squeezed between my car and the curb. While driving he bumped in the right-wing mirror and flipped it. I looked to the right. No damage was made just the mirror turned a little. There was some building with the blind wall facing the street. I undid my seat belt and reached for the mirror to turn it back and at this moment I noticed something in it. I mean in the mirror. No, it wasn’t cracked or damaged some other way. It was showing something that wasn’t there. I mean I could see the door in the mirror and there was no door at all. As I’d said the wall was blind. The wall with the door in the mirror was the same I was facing from my car. There was graffiti on it and it was the same in the mirror too. But in the mirror, there was the door and it wasn’t in front of me. I was about to examine what I saw but traffic started moving and cars behind me started honking and I had to move along.

I promised myself to come here later, maybe a few days later, and investigate that mysterious door.

The rest of the day went as it was planned and like I had predicted it to go. I got a bouquet at the florist for Mom. On the way to my parents’ home, I picked up my fiancée Valery at USM.

My Mom was unbearable as usual. She reminded me and Val that it was my fault she couldn’t go to college. And that Dad because of me went to Community College instead of Uni. Well, that was a reason I years ago had gone to Boston Uni instead of USM. Then I rented an apartment and didn‘t live at their place though there were still free rooms. The home actually was not of my parents’ but my Grandfather’s. He lived in a detached so-called mother-in-law house.

My fault was that I was made at their Prom night. They didn’t use a condom and I was found guilty. I was always found guilty during my childhood when I was living with them. I never was good enough, there never was a word of encouragement or praise for me. What was mother’s love I got to know from my friend’s Mom.

I usually don’t visit my parents too often because of Mom’s rants. I come for their birthdays and for some bigger feasts like Christmas and Easter.

It was the first school day this year. Val had moved to my apartment after the previous school year ended. Today I’d escorted Val to USM first then stopped by Vegan Food Truck at Back Cove Trail. Then I got my fries and strode toward school looking around for nothing in particular.

I was coming down Elm Street and there was the same blind wall with graffiti on it. The morning rush hour was already over and the street was secluded. There were some students and teachers coming to school but not much of them. There was a minivan parked at the curb but I couldn’t start twisting its mirror to check the wall. I sighed and said to myself I’ll have a pocket mirror next time.

While passing the minivan I glanced at it. Its polished side was reflecting the wall with graffiti and there was a door. Yes, it was the same door. When I turned to the wall there was no door. Then I turned to the minivan and there was I in the mirror and the door behind me. Following myself in the mirror I took small steps toward the door. I felt the wall with my back already. Still looking in the mirror I groped the door and took its knob firmly in my hand and turned around. There was a blind wall and my hand was empty. I turned back to the car and groped the door again. I grabbed the knob and turned it and the door cracked open but I couldn’t see what was behind it. I pushed it open but I had to step through the doorway to open the door. At the same instant, I was standing again with my back to the wall and there was no minivan.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed.

“Watch your language, Ms. Kilian,” the voice said.

I turned to it and there was my colleague history teacher Malcolm Bender standing.

“What?” I didn’t get what he’d said really. We called each other by first-name usually not a surname.

“Good morning to you too Ms. Kilian,” he said.

“Good morning, yeah, but what damned ‘miss’ Mal and…”

“It’s a bad omen, Ms. Kilian, to get detention on the first school day. And you’ll get one if you wouldn’t watch your language at this instant. The school will start in…” he glanced at his watch “… in seventeen minutes. I’ll escort you. Maybe a teacher at your side will help you not to get into more trouble.”

I looked around. Everything was the same. There were the same people coming down the street toward the school. I looked at myself and I was different. My tee was dark purple and I had a backpack. Backpack’s straps were showing my tits… Yeah, tits, boobs, breasts, whatever. Then there were jeans and white trainers. Malcolm thought I was a girl student. I was twenty-seven. I had graduated from this school almost ten years ago. And I was a man without fucking tits. I looked down and there were my… breasts. So I was a girl. HOW? And WHY?

I went along as I went along literally at Malcolm’s side down to the school. I knew only that I was the daughter of my parents because of my surname. I didn’t know what grade I was and what name I…

“Hey, Sandra!” One of two girls closing to us shouted. “Oh! I’m sorry Sir… I mean good morning. I didn’t recognize you. I thought you were Sandra’s Daddy.”

“Good morning Sir, hey Sandra,” another girl chirped too.

“Why good morning, Ms. Clayton, Ms. Spencer,” Malcolm answered their greeting. He nodded his head first to one and then to another girl. “I guess it’s safe to leave Ms. Kilian at your side. She was trying to get into serious trouble this morning.”

He strode away while we left here.

“What trouble, girl?” the first one asked.

I was ahead of her and I was the first to ask: “How could you mistake Bender with my Dad… dy?” It was hard to even pronounce that word – daddy.

“Kenzie said who else could be an adult beside you,” she motioned her head to the second girl.

“Oh, as always!” Kenzie exclaimed. “When we are wrong – it’s my fault when we are right – it’s Drew.”

“How much time do we have?” I asked.

Kenzie glanced at Smartphone she was holding in her hand. “Oh my… Let’s run to assembly!”

The day was a continuous nightmare. After the second period, I got to the bathroom together with my two friends. I thought maybe it was kind of hypnosis and I was the same me but others didn’t see me like this. No. I was a girl. And I had to sit to take a leak.

Kenzie and Drew were my BFFs and we were together at all our classes. We were sixteen and we were juniors. I felt like there was something between those two. It looked like they were an item. No, they were not showing it. I felt it. Maybe they really were. As I thought about it I noticed that boys didn’t flirt with us. But we were kind of pretty. Maybe I was not but Kenzie and Drew were. During the lunch period there were some ‘Hey’ there and here from other girls and a few boys.

The last period was PE and Kenzie with Drew guided me to my locker room. While changing I was trying not to look at girls. I planned to reverse to Earl, that’s too old me. The teacher couldn’t ogle his nude students. The girls’ PE teacher was Madeleine Bond. Students and other teachers behind the back called her Mad Bond.

When we were ready to start Mad Bond lined us to make announcements.

“There are still openings in lacrosse and volleyball. Those who aren’t in any team have come to tryouts at four. It’s mandatory.”

And I hoped to get home as soon as possible.

“Good for you,” Kenzie whispered.

“How so?”

“Cheerleaders don’t need to go. Then only Drew and I go.”

Am I on cheer squad? Oh my… Cheerleading was always worse than rocket science for me and now here I am! I couldn’t understand what they were squeaking cause cheering pitch was too high. Then their jumps and splits and cartwheels and… and… they all had their individual names. I probably could learn Mandarin faster than anything cheer-ish. Anyway, I could go home immediately after…

“Cheerleaders don’t forget your practice starts at five Monday-Thursdays. Except for today because of tryouts.” Oh, that’s good.

The class ended shortly. My friends left waiting for tryouts while I hurried home.

At home, things were the same and different. The new dark purple Kia Soul was standing at the garage door. Everything was handled with care. The hedge was trimmed, the lawn was mowed, the porch was painted, the driveway was paved. There wasn’t anybody at home. I had a key in the backpack. Inside was maintained and clean too. Furniture wasn’t so worn like… like… How do I say about things that were in my – Earl’s life? Upstairs my old room was my room in this life too. But it had a bathroom attached and it was a little bigger and well… it was a girl’s room. Scent, coloring, things were showing it was definitely a girl’s room.

The main task was to find a mirror. There were two in the room but those were on vanity and on the closet door. I looked in the vanity drawers – nothing, in the drawers of the chest – nothing. In the third drawer of the desk, there was a folding mirror. Not big maybe a little bigger than a postcard, the size I actually needed. I put it in the backpack and ran to Elm Street.

Ten minutes later I was panting while standing at the blind wall with graffiti in Elm Street. I took a mirror from my backpack, unfolded it and was looking at it pretending I was looking at myself. There was the door in it. Thank goodness... Staring into the mirror I made short steps toward the door till my back was touching the wall. I groped behind me with my left hand till it was on the door-knob. I turned it and cracked the door open. I made a big step backward.

I was standing at the wall in the Elm Street as if nothing had happened. I had no mirror in my hand and I was Earl. I checked my watch and it was 3:52 PM. Well, classes were over and it was time to get my fiancée Valery at USM Library.

A few years later after my break with Val, I’d considered checking the door again. I was so unhappy with my current life. I was ready to step through this door and live that another maybe a little better life. With a folding mirror in my jacket pocket, I came to Elm Street and found the same wall but graffiti was different. I looked in the mirror and the door was here. I followed myself in the mirror to the door till my back was touching it. I took the doorknob in my hand and turned it. And nothing. I could turn the knob a little bit but not much. The door was locked.