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Sam is led deeper into transformation into a WunderGirl! Is there no way out? And is he beginning to like what is happening?

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WunderGirl

Copyright© 2020 Shauna J. Rousseau
All Rights Reserved.
(Cover image designed by Joyce Melton.)
(Image Source: Photo 30023749 © Vladimir Nikulin - Dreamstime.com)

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~ Day 7 ~
 

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* * * * *
Sam
* * * * *
 

I get out of the shower and towel off my hair, then massage in the conditioner. I’m tingling all over as I’ve come to expect, and I’ve gotten used to it. Actually, I’ve gotten to really like the feeling—I even look forward to it. It makes me feel, well…alive.

The one thing that I’ve missed this week, though, is plain old bar soap. There are just some places where body wash isn’t as effective. I’ve made a note to ask Ginny if there is any in the experimental lineup that I can use.

I absent-mindedly wash my face and use the day cream, then put in my eyedrops. I’ve finally gotten to where I can do that myself and the face washing and moisturizing is becoming second nature, so Mom doesn’t supervise me anymore. It’s also a relief that the drops don’t sting too bad anymore—just a two or three on the lava scale.

I look at myself in the mirror and once again notice that while the whites of my eyes continue to remain bright white, there are small greenish ‘flecks’ appearing in the brown part of my eyes. My eyelashes seem…thicker, too.

I’ve also noticed that my hair has grown a lot—about as much in the past week as I would normally expect in a month. I was already in need of a haircut a couple of weeks ago and put it off just to piss Dad off for making me work over the summer, but I never intended for it to get long—and now it completely covers my ears! And, the roots are bright…red and much darker than my normal dirty blonde. It looks like I have bleached my hair in the past and it’s growing back out red.

It all kind of freaks me out and I need to ask Ginny about it. Mom doesn’t seem too concerned, so maybe I’m just being paranoid. Like I said, at least she isn’t watching me use the products like a hawk, anymore.

I sigh and finish getting ready since I’m riding in with her to WG for my check-in meeting with Ginny today. That means it’s my ‘day off’ from the lumberyard since I only work four days a week, anyway. If nothing else, that is a blessing!

I’m quiet on the ride in with Mom. She’s been in a really good mood ever since I entered the trial, and she got her new job. She chatters away about what it takes to be a model and I feign interest. I mean, why would I care about how to model makeup—or women’s clothes—for some photo shoot? I don’t know what she’s thinking! It’s like she thinks I’m Gemma.

I think about the job at the lumberyard while nodding at her chattering. It sucks! Dad hasn’t relented any either. The guys there haven’t been terrible—even Jimmie has been OK. But I feel so useless and I can’t over the feeling that Old Man Rollins sort of doesn’t know what to do with me. I wish he would just tell Dad it’s not working out.

Mom pulls into her spot and is still chattering away—completely oblivious to my inattention. She puts the car in park, and we get out—and she keeps it up all the way into the building! She walks with me to Ginny’s lab and comes in with me, still chattering like I’m her daughter, or something.

Ginny sees us enter and exclaims, “Good morning, Sam! Hi, Julia! How are you both?”

I don’t get a word in edgewise while Mom chatters a few minutes, with Ginny just nodding and smiling like I have been doing. Then she finally breaks in and says, “I really need to get to work on the tests with Sam here, Julia! I don’t want you to be late!”

Thankfully, she takes the hint and leaves us to go to work, herself.

 

* * * * *
Ginny
* * * * *
 

I’m glad to see Sam and am ready to get right to work on his check-in test, but Julia is in an immensely chatty mood this morning! I finally have to break in, “I really need to get to work on the tests with Sam here, Julia! I don’t want you to be late!”

She doesn’t take offense and just smiles, “OK! I know you’re busy. Sam, just come to the M&M Department when you’re done! Have fun, you two!”

And she’s off!

Sam just looks at me with a sort of frazzled expression and exclaims, “Wow! She’s been that way ever since she got that new job. But—what is the M&M Department? You make candy here?”

I laugh and say, “No! That’s the Marketing and Modeling Department.”

He nods his head, then transitions to shaking it. I giggle and ask, “So, how have things been going? Has it gotten better with your eyes?”

He goes into a list of things that concern him and I bite my lip to keep from smiling. The products seem to be working extremely well on him if he’s already noticing results, himself!

I say, “OK. Let’s take some measurements and then get you in to see Becky for your week one pictures.”

I have him take a seat and draw blood first, then have him strip to his underwear to start taking body measurements. Finally, I measure the length of his hair—it’s grown a full inch in just a week. That is the equivalent of a month’s growth under normal circumstances. Outstanding! And it’s growing in a beautiful shade of red—as planned. We had considered black—for a more Gothic look, but decided on red in the end.

I mark down all of the measurements as he gets dressed and say, “Well, I don’t see any surprises, yet. Let me check your eyes, then we’ll go see Becky.”

I look into his eyes with a light and see the flecking that I expected after his comments, but normally would not have expected to be this visible for another couple of weeks. His lashes are also visibly much thicker and slightly longer.

I I take a couple of samples for measuring and decide I can add the serum that Joyce requested ahead of schedule! I also need to remember the nail balm. She asked for both after reviewing Sam’s baseline records and the initial product lineup.

He asks, “So, Ginny. What about the color change in my hair—not to mention how fast it’s growing? And those flecks in my eyes?”

I take a deep breath and explain, “Well, the color changes—both in your hair and eyes are to be expected. It means the product is working. It’s sort of like a marker. Understand? I suggest you go ahead and get your hair colored to match your roots. I’ll talk to your Mom about it—or let Greta or Lissa talk to her. That will make it less noticeable. As for the growth rate—that means it’s really healthy. That’s a good thing!”

He sighs and says, “If you say so. But it’s just temporary, right? My hair will go back to normal after this? And how can red be less noticeable? I’m blonde!”

I reply in a non-committal tone, “Well, we’ll see. And models change hair color all of the time—it’s no big deal!”

He bites back an obvious retort and I just smile.

I address the request from Joyce on additional products by adding, “Now, I want you to start using this lash serum and nail balm. There are videos in the usual place on how to use them both. Just use both morning and night when you use your eyedrops.”

I make sure he is paying attention and add, “Use the balm on all your finger and toenails—especially around the cuticles. Do not cut your nails! We need to be able measure growth and will take care of that at your weekly check-ins!”

I take a breath and continue, “Also, I didn’t really consider you wanting bar soap, but since you asked for it, I’ll give you some. Just don’t use it anywhere other than where you would use the bodywash—certainly not on your face. It’s not a facial bar! We do have shaving cream and gel, too, but it doesn’t seem like you need that at this point.”

He just sort of gurgles and turns red.

I smile sweetly and hand him a bag with the new products before adding, “Now, come along. Becky’s waiting!”

 

* * * * *
Becky
* * * * *
 

I smile as Ginny comes in with Sam. I notice right away that his hair is longer, and he has bright red roots. His eyes are also different the light hits them just right—the greenish flecks in his irises are mesmerizing.

A good photographer is aware of their subjects!

I get him set up and take this week’s pictures for comparison purposes. He is very easy to work with. This is not a modeling shoot by any means, but I can tell he will do well when they pull him into doing those. A little training and he will be a pro!

Speaking of modeling, I’m willing to bet that Lissa and Greta are going to start making him take better care of his appearance, now. Since he—well his parents—signed the ‘reserve’ model contract, he will have to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. Even if he hadn’t—and he hadn’t taken the upfront signing bonus—he would be expected to present himself better as a WG ambassador.

The company takes people professionally associated with it very seriously—and won’t allow anything that might foster a negative reaction or what it would perceive as embarrassment. They consider all employees ambassadors of the company—and WunderGirls are the elite. Even the reserve ones.

I don’t know if he knows what he has gotten himself into, though, with Lissa. I don’t trust that woman. In my opinion she is a little unhinged. I’m also pretty sure she’s up to something with this trial…

Just look at Sam’s hair and eyes!

 

* * * * *
Melissa
* * * * *
 

I review the trial’s overall Phase 1 extract results in preparation for an update to my secret contact on the board. Sam is the latest test subject to get the extract—and all subjects have reacted the same way, including him.

I will have to closely monitor his progress and keep an eye on Ginny’s reports, but in addition to the accelerated growth and cosmetic results, he should be well on his way to becoming mentally attached to the effects of the special plant extract in his Phase 1 products.

That extract is similar to nicotine in that it causes a very stimulating tingling, but unlike nicotine it is not at all physically addictive. It only serves to sensitize the subject to the Phase 2 extract and the tingling is a sign that the sensitization is taking effect. The tingling effect will stop on its own after the subject’s body is fully saturated with the product and all of its receptors have become sensitized.

It takes the body about one to two weeks to become fully sensitized with the extract dosages used in the trial products—and about a month for it to clear the molecules from its system as it slowly becomes desensitized.

The Phase 2 products cement the mental attachment in a way that will ensure success. A different extract is added and, when combined with the sensitized body from the first phase, the effect is more similar to caffeine in its addictiveness—it causes a low-level physical addiction that is fairly easy to break after about a week with only a moderate headache and some jitteriness.

The idea is less to have some hard addiction that the FDA or DEA will investigate—or try and regulate—but just give that little ‘kick’ to entice customers to flock to the effect and corresponding product. The addictive effect includes delivering the desired tingling—very similar to the Phase 1 product—when it attaches to the sensitized receptors.

This causes the subject to desire resensitization when a certain clearance level of the sensitizing agent is reached—since the tingling will also be reduced and the minor withdrawal symptoms kick in. And the cycle starts over. Overall, that will create a solid brand loyalty.

The Phase 1 chemical is basically untraceable—at least there are currently no commercial tests that will detect it. It can also not be synthesized—it can only be extracted from the plant itself.

The Phase 2 molecule is more easily detected, but takes a blood sample, because it breaks down completely into harmless components in the liver—and those metabolites are nothing abnormal in feces or urine.

I muse on the stroke of luck I had when I happened on the plants and seeds in our research stores—they are from the rainforest and are now technically extinct since they were isolated to a small area of the rainforest—and that area of the world has now been completely deforested and burned

Everyone had forgotten about the stored samples and I was able to garner them without notice. Now my little secret group in South America and I are the only ones that know of their existence. That’s the group that is growing the plants for me in seclusion and creating the basic extracts for me. I then further refine them here.

Sam will be the first subject to get both extracts in products through transdermal application solely using test products. So far, the Phase 2 extract has only been administered orally or via a special concentrated gel in other subject trials. If this works in Sam and creates the intended effect, it will be the first step in creating my new ‘therapeutic cosmetics’. I am still working on the computer model to determine how to best distribute it, but I have a solid idea.

My reverie is broken as I hear a knock on my door.

I look up as Ginny drops Sam off outside my office and I can tell right away that the products are already having a cosmetic effect! The markers are clearly visible which means we’re well on our way to creating ‘internal cosmetics’—changing things like hair, nail, or eye color from the inside out! I am also fairly confident that I will be able to turn the temporary effect into a permanent one.

His psych profile clearly indicates he is a male on the spectrum, so if—with a little pushing—he mostly voluntarily goes through with what is further in store for him, then it’s a clear indicator that the extracts are doing what they are intended to do. That is, create an overwhelming desire to use the product.

OK. Sure, some would call that addiction to the product. That’s all semantics as far as I’m concerned—and not something I’m bothered with. The minor Phase 2 addiction is not enough to even count.

No matter! It is time to put it to the first real test.

He comes in and I ask, “Well, how’s it going, Sam?”

He looks a little confused but answers, “OK, I think. It seems my hair is growing really fast, and it’s growing in red! Plus, my eyes have these weird green flecks in them. And Ginny said that those are ‘markers’ but won’t say if it’s temporary!”

I give him a comforting smile and ask in a slightly condescending tone, “Well, it’s true. That lets us know that the product is working. So, for you it would be a problem if it were permanent? Are you saying you want to back out of your agreement?”

I give him a pointed look. He shakes his head and stutters, “I…I…I mean, I don’t want red hair! I like it blonde!”

I give him a pitiful look and say, “Well…that dirty blonde you have is…well, pathetic! Sorry…” I’m not really, but I guess I can play at being nice.

I continue, “Anyway, assuming you don’t want to back out and make your parents pay the penalties, like your mother losing her job—not just the new one, but period. Or your Daddy basically having to go bankrupt to pay the penalty for breaking the contract and going to jail because that won’t cover it…”

I let that hang over his head for a pregnant pause, then matter-of-factly state, “Then you’ll get your hair colored to match your roots. Permanent or not—that is your color for now. It’s much prettier than that ‘blonde’ you like.”

He blinks, but I don’t relent and just pile it on, “I’ve set up an appointment with Joyce in M&M and let your Momma know that you’re to get your hair fixed…as well as some other things. Your appearance as a reserve model is important and you look…unkempt. That reflects poorly on WG and we can’t have that! Understand? Your mother does!”

I pause another beat and deal the final blow, “So, can I depend on you to be a man and honor your contract?”

I wait.

After a moment, he breaks and pleads, “I’m sorry! I mean it’s just so weird! Whatever…but…red?”

I smile and soften my visage. Of course it’s fake—I don’t really care. I decide it’s time to close this out, “Well, it is pretty. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but that is what WG is about—pretty. OK? Now, are you seeing any other issues? No? Good! Let’s get you over to Joyce!”

 

* * * * *
Joyce
* * * * *
 

Lissa brings in the newest WG R&D acquisition and I smile at him. She introduces us and I try and calm him down with a soothing voice, “Hi, Sam. I see you’re in need of a little TLC. You’re a reserve model and that thousand dollars that you took home to cement that status means that I get to determine how you look as one of our ambassadors.”

I take a breath as I look him over and add, “Well, Dharma, Brea, and I will do that together. Dharma gets to choose anything that you wear—other than cosmetics. I’m in charge of your ‘body’. Brea is in charge of your cosmetics.”

He still looks like a deer in the headlights and I giggle, “Don’t worry, Hon. I don’t bite! You just worry about Dharma—she very well might! Brea is a doll, though!”

Since I have a lot to take care of on his first visit, I don’t have too much time to coddle him. He did sign the contract. So, I get to ready to get started and command, “Now, come over here and let’s get your hair sorted out!”

Lissa leaves him to me, and I quickly get to work on his hair. I don’t have to wash it—actually, I can’t, since that would mess up the protocol—so, I start by mixing up the red color to match his new growth and get ready to apply it.

Before I do, I ask, “Would you like some gum? It takes a while for the color to cook!”

He shrugs and I give him a piece of Ginny’s special gum before I start applying the dye. Of course, I don’t let him know that it is also an experimental product of its own.

I put him under the cooker and start picturing how I’m going to cut and style his hair. I look at the pictures that Becky sent over and come up with a plan for the initial cut. With the rate it’s growing, I can afford to take a little more off to give the shape I want for future cuts. It will still be plenty long, though.

I watch him happily chew the gum for a few minutes—until the timer goes off—then I bring him over to the chair and give him the cutest little bob that I had planned out in my head. At most, it could be considered androgynous—but it just works with his now beautiful red hair. He’s a reserve WunderGirl, so I’m not worried that it’s on the feminine side. As far as I’m concerned, that’s how it should be!

Once I finish with the cut, I say, “OK, Sam. We need to clean up your eyebrows…”

I make quick work with some wax and taper them to fine point with a nice arch, then finish cleaning them up with a pair of tweezers. I smile--they look much cleaner and better! Of course, it just serves to add to his more feminine look—as is befitting a WunderGirl.

Finally, I say, “OK, Sam. One last thing—as a reserve model, it’s required to have pierced ears. There’s no actual specification on what that means—other than the lobes must be pierced—and so I get to choose the specifics. I just love a double-tap—at the very least. Oh, and an upper cartilage piercing will look just darling with that haircut!”

He starts to whine, but I shut that down, “Do I need to get Lissa?” I’m in no mood for arguments—he signed the contract.

Besides, I so love making people look good—whether they realize that’s what I’m doing, or not! It’s all for their own good and they most always come around in the end. Regardless—it’s what is expected of a WunderGirl. Reserve or not.

It takes just a few minutes to complete the piercings and insert the sparkly faux diamond studs into the new holes in his lobes. I place a hoop in the hole in his upper left ear. I would love to pierce his nose, too. That’s too much for now, I know—I will get to it later, though.

I give him a fresh piece of gum and he chews on it furiously. Then, just as I finish up and hand him the instructions and solutions for caring for his ears, along with a large bag of the gum, his mother comes in. I smile and ask, “What do you think, Julia? Isn’t he adorable?”

 

* * * * *
Julia
* * * * *
 

I go over to the salon at eleven. Greta just met with me and told me to meet Sam there—she also warned me that it is vital that I support whatever Joyce has done and whatever she may further recommend—as that supports WG. And I have an obligation to support WG as a WunderGirl, as well.

I completely get the message.

I see Sam and gasp—I try my best to hide it so he can’t tell. But his hair is completely bright red! I had noticed his red roots earlier but passed it off as something temporary and nothing to worry about. This is…surprising!

And It’s cut in a style that is…well, feminine—at least clearly on the feminine side of androgynous. I have seen some boys with similar cuts, but they always looked girly to me. He also now has two, shiny diamond studs in each ear—one larger than the other—plus a glittery ring in the top of his left ear.

I’m momentarily at a loss for words, but then I remember Greta’s admonishment that the thousand dollars that we already accepted—along with the signed contract with all of its penalties—is plenty of reason to not create an issue that will embarrass WG.

I go and hug Sam and gush—as sincerely as I can muster, “Sam! You look awesome, Hon! I mean, just look at you! Joyce! You’ve done wonders—as usual!”

He looks at me in confusion and I know I need to get him out of here before Joyce gets any more ideas. From my discussions with Greta, I know that the contract for reserve models does specify pierced ears, so that doesn’t completely surprise me.

I mean, I also know the language was intended for female reserve WunderGirls—and who would have guessed that there would ever actually be any male reserve WunderGirls when it was drafted in the nineteen fifties?

The fact that he has double pierced lobes—and a cartilage piercing—lets me know she is ad-libbing on the specifications, though. And they can be waived to begin with. She’s chosen not to pursue that option.

I start to move him towards the door when she says, “Julia, wait! I think we need Sam to visit Brea, don’t you? Just to get a ‘look’ worked out in case we need to implement the reserve clause at a moment’s notice. I mean, we don’t want to just start figuring out his look at that point! And we really need to get him working more with Becky to learn the ropes of a shoot.”

I sigh. I tried.

I carefully reply, “I don’t know if she has time. I need to take Sam home over my lunch break…”

She interupts, “Nonsense! Sam can stay until you’re off! There’s no school in session and I’m sure he has nothing better to do! Now, let’s just see if she has a moment.”

 

* * * * *
Brea
* * * * *
 

I’m about to go to an early lunch when Joyce sends me a message. I curse—I hate that self-serving bitch! She’s so far up Greta’s behind that she can probably see out her eyes! And I think she’s somehow in cahoots with Lissa—there’s just something…off...about some of the things going on around here!

To my surprise, Julia comes in with her son with Joyce right behind them. Julia is not new to WG, but she is new to M&M and I really like her. She just has a lot to learn about what goes on here.

Her son is sweet—but he certainly is in over his head with Lissa. And now Joyce seems to have her hooks in him. Poor kid!

Joyce has invoked the full reserve model contract requirements on him—something that is completely unnecessary and ludicrous in this instance. But there is no point in me arguing the case. Unfortunately, like I said, Julia hasn’t learned to play the game, yet.

I sigh and reluctantly explain, “OK, Sam. Do you know what is required of you as a reserve model—I mean, in theory? Any of the requirements can be waived by a senior manager of WG—like, for instance Greta or Lissa. Unless they are waived when invoked by any employee—like Joyce—it is a breach of contract if they’re not followed.”

Julia nods her understanding. Sam looks confused. Joyce looks pissed—I don’t care. If he can get Lissa, or any other senior on his side, then we don’t have to go down this path.

For now, though—until he can get that exemption—he will have to meet minimum requirements. It looks like Joyce has gone above and beyond with the piercings—I’m not going to touch that since it’s her realm. She better not touch mine, though…

I further explain, “I’m going to give you a full WG model—what we call a WunderGirl—anyway, a I’m going to give you a full makeover to just get a baseline look. Then I’ll explain what the minimum is that’s expected of a reserve model. Then I’ll make sure that you comply with those requirements. OK?”

He just kind of gurgles and hiccups at the same time. He’s white as a ghost and Julia is starting to look a little concerned. Maybe she’ll get with it and learn the game, now!

I buckle down and give Sam a full makeover—pretending he’s an actively working WunderGirl. He, of course, is totally shocked at getting his first makeover and I don’t blame him. I don’t explain anything to him—it’s not a lesson.

He just sits there in resignation and let’s me do my work. He actually has nice skin and a very nice complexion. It makes the makeover very easy.

I’m sure the feel and the smell of the cosmetics are completely foreign to him. Heck, I’m sure he never even contemplated wearing makeup! He doesn’t strike me as the type that would sneak into his Mom’s room to use her makeup—even though, with his hair cut like it is, his eyebrows shaped in a clearly feminine manner, and his ears pierced like they are, it would be easy to assume he’s a girl.

When I’m done, she’s…ummm…he’s beautiful! He looks every bit like a gorgeous, yet shy, sixteenish-year-old girl. I didn’t go overboard on the makeover, but it is does give him a more sophisticated and very feminine look that seems to add a couple of years to his age.

Julia gasps and Sam looks like he’s going to throw up from shock and confusion when Joyce calls in Becky to take a full set of baseline WunderGirl pictures for his portfolio and her work with him on basic modeling poses as part of the process.

I want to complain about the treatment but know there’s no sense in it. Becky seems caught off-guard, too.

When she has finished taking her pictures and giving him basic pointers on modeling, I quickly clean off his makeup and say, “OK, Sam. There are certain minimum standards that you will have to meet—unless you get a senior to exempt you like I explained before. That is, now that Joyce has invoked the contract language on you. What I did before is more a look that we will go for if and when you actually start modeling.”

I sigh and get out the special extended wear cosmetics. These are even more special, since they are part of his experimental line.

I say, “These will last at least an entire week without fading or smearing and are WG special cosmetics for our reserve WunderGirls. Only these also go with your experimental line.”

I put on the eyeliner and, without thinking, give him a cute little flick on one eye. I curse myself—technically, those are not required, but it’s habit because it is a standard WG symbol. I can’t help but think that it does look cute on him, though. Since it’s a real pain to remove the semi-permanent makeup, I just do the same to the other eye.

I add the special long-lasting mascara that gives him long, thick lashes, and create a butterfly look with a strong curve.

Altogether, it gives him that cute cat-eye look that’s the hallmark of a typical younger WunderGirl.

Then I use blood-red lip stain on his lips to ensure that he has appropriate color—that is actually a really old-fashioned specification that I wish we could get changed. Normally, he would need to use actual lipstick, but I can argue that clause—for now.

Joyce has been complaining about the loophole for a while, now—maybe we can compromise and have the required color removed if it has to be actual lipstick.

Anyway, he’ll have to use lip gloss with the stain and reapply it often—like he would lipstick. But he won’t have to worry about getting the color everywhere.

Because of the experimental status he’s in—and the products he has to use for the trial—I can forgo anything else. For now.

I hand him the tube of lip gloss and explain how to use it—and admonish him to keep it refreshed to maintain the required look. I also remind him of the consequences of being caught not using it and Julia confirms that she will ensure he does so appropriately. At least it has a pleasant strawberry-vanilla flavor.

I finally remind him that he doesn’t have to worry about washing off the lip stain, eyeliner, or mascara—or even smearing it—since it’s semi-permanent and to just wash his face as normal. He turns a little green when he realizes that it won’t come off and that I will just be refreshing it on a weekly basis.

He looks at himself in the mirror and turns greener. I hide him from Joyce’s view before she insists on anything else and firmly whisper, “Get over it, Hon! This is the best I can do!”

He pales and looks even more like he’s going to throw up.

I don’t blame him.

He looks like a cute girl just starting out with makeup—maybe around thirteen. I think he has a sister that age. They will now look like twins—if she has started with makeup yet. Well, I am not sure color her hair is.

 

* * * * *
Gary
* * * * *
 

Julia is supposed to come home with Sam around five. This used to be our day off together, but her new position—and Sam’s check-in meetings—have screwed with that. I’m glad that Julia is happy with the new position and I’m certainly not going to argue the considerable amount more money she’s now bringing home!

But I do miss having the day to do things together. I decided earlier that we should at least all go out to eat together, since it’s also Chad’s early night off. Not to mention that I can’t cook worth a damn!

All-in-all, I’m in a pretty decent mood after a relaxing day off.

But then I see my ‘son’ come in behind Julia when they finally do get home.

I nearly have a coronary! I mean, I maybe I do—I don’t know. I feel my face turn red and my blood pressure shoot through the roof!

He looks like a frickin’ fruit! His hair is colored red and cut like a girl’s. His ears are pierced—not just once, but twice! Plus, he has this glittery hoop thing in the top of one ear. He’s got makeup on his eyes and his eyebrows are shaped like a girl’s. And he has shiny blood-red lips.

About as red as I’m seeing right now!

I lose it—I mean, what self-respecting father wouldn’t?

I exclaim, “This stops right here and now! Get upstairs, young man and wash that crap off! Take out those earrings--I'll take you to get a buzz-cut, right now! Not son of mine is going to walk around like that! Julia, how could let him do this?”

My mistake!

Julia lets into me like a mama Tasmanian Devil! I guess there’s something in his contract—or something.

I don’t care! He still looks like a fruit! I can’t imagine him going into the lumberyard like this tomorrow. Maybe that’s the best thing that can happen, though! They’ll straighten him! If they don’t kill him, first…

We finally do go out to eat and I don’t say a word the whole time—except to order.

Beer after beer, that is…