Chapter 2 - Things get weirder.

When I got over the initial shock and read the article I just had to lie back and laugh. The reporter had obviously taken the information he had been given as a joke as the article was filled with comments from various people who ‘knew’ me; as well as totally fictitious comments from me.

There was an interview with Susan, my latest girlfriend, who said that going out with me was like going out with a girlfriend and that I was a ‘kind and gentle soul’. My boss in the insurance company said that I must have mystical powers as I seemed to be able to charm people into buying from me. The only kind comment was from the local vicar, a man who had helped me greatly at the loss of my parents but did not shove his faith down my throat. He said that I was a ‘kind and caring man with a heart of gold and was destined for greatness’. Although, he also said that this was not the sort of greatness he had thought would be my lot. There were even quotes from me, strange as they must have been written down while I was talking in my sleep. I was quoted as wondering if my situation had come about as a side-effect of my two Pfizer vaccination jabs, seeing that the technology was so new and related to RNA, the stuff that had a close relationship with DNA.

Mid-morning my favourite doctor came around and sat next to my bed. “Arthur” he said “I am sure that we will do everything we can to stop this paper silliness. The radiographer has been dismissed for his lack of discretion and the paper has been told that what they have printed will be part of a legal action by you and the hospital. It is a very stupid thing that the reporter did and I am sure that we can put an end to the comments.”

How wrong he was! It was only the leading edge of the nightmare that was to take over my life and cost the hospital more than they had bargained for. Around lunch-time I could hear noises from the corridor which carried on for some time before it went quiet again. When a nurse came in she looked flustered but smiled at me as she took blood. I asked her about the noise and she said that it had been a group of patients who wanted to speak to me. “Why was there all the noise?” I asked and she said “Well, they actually wanted to touch you and be healed of their ailments. Most of them were from the other wards and it took a few of us some time to get them back in their beds and put their visitors back outside. We now have a security firm on guard at the doors because there are a few more gathered outside, some of them want to burn you at the stake for heresy.” The fact that she did not smile when she said that led me to believe that she may have actually telling me the truth.

Later in the day a nurse came and asked if I would speak to Max Murphy, my friendly vicar. I said I would and he was ushered in. He looked at me and genuflected; I just smiled and welcomed him. He asked me how I was bearing up and then showed me the evening national paper. The front page had an old picture of me from high school next to the picture of me in this bed. The headline was ‘Is this the most dangerous person in the country?’

The article took two avenues, the first being an extension on the lines of the supposed Pfizer comment and it wondered if I was the first sign of strange side-effects and if there were more like me waiting in the wings. The other avenue was if I actually was the recipient of a virgin pregnancy and if I was the sign of the second coming and, perhaps, the ‘End of Days’. Either way, it seemed, I was a harbinger of doom who should be either locked up or terminated. It was very heady stuff and I read the paper then looked at him, asking “Who on earth would believe this rubbish?”

He shook his head and said “A lot of people, it seems. It took me a lot of negotiation with the hospital to even get them to ask if I could see you. There are about a hundred people in the street with half of them ready to hang you from the nearest lamp-post and the other half that even have a cross made which they want to put you on, quite likely wanting to see if you can be raised from the dead. It is crazy and I think it may get crazier because I have heard from some of my parishioners that they are going to march on the anti-Arthurs and save you from the mob so that they can worship you and, especially, the baby you carry.”

“There are Arthurs and Anti-Arthurs?” I asked incredulously. “Has anyone realised that my middle name is Joseph? When they discover that, plus the fact that the doctors think I am carrying a girl, it will really stir the pot! They are going to go crazy – instead of Mary having a baby Jesus I will be Joseph having a baby Mary.

He looked sad as he nodded and he then asked the one question he should have led with, “Exactly what is happening with you?” I told him that I was a hermaphrodite with a fully working female system which had finally decided to wake up and produce an egg. Then I told him that the only real difference with my body was a tiny tube that diverted some of my semen away from my penis and into the uterus. When he asked what was going to happen now I said “I think that there are doctors who want me to go full term just to see what I produce, seeing that this is interbreeding to a new level. There are none who want to take it all away now and the general thought is that I should have my female parts given an outlet to the world with my male parts getting either removed or inverted. It is something that would have kept me awake at night if they had not been putting me under with tranquilliser.”

He asked me if there was anything he could do and I said that it would be nice if he could look into my house to make sure I had not left anything on and check my post. I also asked if he could arrange for my old car to be taken away from in front of the hospital before some idiot decides to trash it. I told him where he could find clean pyjamas and a dressing gown in my cottage as I was getting tired of a breeze around my nethers whenever I went to the toilet. I called a nurse and asked if I could have my belongings and a pad and pen. She brought me the bag and I gave him my car and door keys and wrote a note saying that I was giving him access to the house. He looked at that and said that it would be handy as there was already a policeman on guard. When I looked questioning he said “Already there is graffiti on the fence denouncing you as the devil incarnate and the police are worried about possible damage attempts or opportunistic robbery.”

When he had left I had another visit from the doctor who wanted to know what I had decided. I said “Could you get a diagram and run me through what bits I would lose with the two options?” When he came back and showed me I realised that if I stayed male I would lose a great deal of my insides and he said that I would have a very sunken stomach area for quite a while. If I went female I would lose my testicles and my penis would be inverted to join the inner workings, giving me a workable vagina. I asked him about looking like a woman and he told me that it would not take a lot, maybe two or three operations, to be looking totally female. When I asked about my pelvis he said that it was already big enough to pass a baby through.

He did say that I would need to be quick with my decision because it was getting difficult keeping undesirables out of the hospital. He shook his head as he spoke about the ‘Arthurians’ that were growing in number outside, many kneeling in the road and praying. He said that the local police had been boosted by a contingent from the county seat. He did say that everyone was worried about the ‘Anti-Arthurians’ which were growing in number, mainly from the ranks of the rent-a-crowd louts who were just there to have a fight. It sounded like it was mayhem outside.

That evening that is exactly what it was. I lay in bed hearing sirens for hours with now an armed policeman outside my door. When the nurse turned on the tranquiliser I was happy to drift off to sleep. Next morning, after breakfast, they took the stents out, brought my clothes back and told me to have a shower and get dressed. I was then escorted to the administration section with my armed guard next to me. There I was ushered into a boardroom where a number of people waited for me.

I was shown to a seat and then one of the bow-tied and well suited men stood and said “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are here to decide what is going to happen with Mister Prendergast, here. We cannot operate this hospital with running battles happening in the street outside. I suggest that he be taken somewhere secret to continue his strange future.” I asked “Can’t I just go home?” That caused a ripple of sighs around the table and a nice looking woman said “Arthur, I am sorry but that is now impossible as the AA rabble torched it last night after overpowering the policeman outside. He is now in a ward in the hospital and, I am sorry to tell you, your home is now just a smoking ruin.”

She then pointed to another woman and said “Miss Smith will tell you where you stand.” Miss Smith opened a folder and looked at me, saying “Arthur, the company you work for has indicated that they cannot have you back, seeing the feelings you are creating among the populace. The manager has told me that he will pay out the insurance value of your house and also has made you an offer for the land. He will also give you a generous redundancy payout that will give you quite a healthy bank account. If you decide to follow through with being totally feminised, there is an offer from one of the magazines that has been made to pay for all of your costs as long as you sign a contract for your life story, the film rights as well as access to you and your child for as long as you are newsworthy.”

I was astounded at that. Then the hospital manager said that I needed to be spirited away as soon as possible and the news leaked that I have gone so they could carry on treating the patients in the usual manner. I stood up and went to the window, looking outside for the first time in days. The street outside was a mess with broken placards, broken glass and a line of police in riot gear holding back a line of angry louts who were shouting at the police and waving their fists around. I was far enough away and behind a double glazed window so could not hear them but it was obvious that it would be better for everyone if I was taken somewhere else.

“OK” I said as I turned back to them “I can see that I am not the most popular person around this place. What do we do now and where can I go now I have no home. Please don’t tell me that there is a nice stable conversion somewhere isolated because that would not be funny.” Miss Smith said “We have put together a plan to get you away from here. You will be travelling in a coroners’ van as a cadaver in a body-bag. You would then be taken to the morgue where you will be put in another van and taken to a safe-house that the security services have offered us. You will stay there until a slot becomes vacant for you to be given the operations. You will be taking the feminisation option; it is the best option for your future.”

Marianne G © 2021