Chapters 1-3 of 9

Note to readers. Don't read if you don't like poor grammar, this is rough.
This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright… are you kidding?

Edited by Monica Rose
Special thanks to Barbie Lee and Amanda Lynn.

 

 

 

1. My dad – a whiz kid. My appearance. Dad’s offered a job in America. We’re ready to go.

There is a certificate for everything and everybody in our life. You are nobody and nothing without a proper certificate. Even a piece of meat has to be certified and approved for its proper use. There is one for the replacement of your defunct kidney. Another one as a meal for your family, and then another one for burying. And there is no way you should miss-match those certificates. If something is stated in your certificate – it is final. If there is a statement in your certificate that you are striped black and white, then there is no other chance than to be a zebra for you.

In my birth certificate, there is the line – ‘Mother: Unknown’ instead of ‘Father: Unknown’. Like some other people have on their birth certificates.

There the story starts. My father was a whiz-kid. I’d like to call him a genius because then maybe I could feel something special but let’s be truthful. He was a whiz-kid and graduated high school at thirteen. That same year, he was accepted into the most prestigious university. Some five hundred miles away from his home. He was the only one that young there. He was placed into the dorm, not in the boys’ wing but in the girls’ wing. There he was given a single room with a personal bathroom.

I hadn’t been to that university or the dorm. I can’t describe it. He told me later the girls were taking care of him and he did not feel the same as at home but not bad though. He graduated when he was sixteen and stayed there for postgraduate studies. Another year later he got his first doctoral degree.

He was sixteen and was accepted into students’ parties. At one of those parties, probably something happened. Two days before the New Year, he found a baby in front of his dorm room door. He knew the child was his because it had the same nevus in the shape of uppercase ‘Q’ below the left shoulder blade. He picked up the baby and immediately made his way home. There were no documents with the child. My father went with my grandmother to the hospital to register me.

My father struck a dashing figure with high cheekbones, a slight upturn nose, big grey eyes, and blond hair. He was similar to his father (my grandfather). Except that his father was as bald as a polished marble sculpture. Only he knew what color hair he had before he went bald.

My father was a bit of a mad scientist from a young age. He was far from a social butterfly, one might call him a wallflower. He would start sobbing and his lip would quiver every time somebody would raise their voice at him, except of course for when it came to scientific discussions. I’d witnessed one such discussion years later. I was eleven and came into his lab and it found him squeaking in a high-pitched voice.

There we were, my Grandmother, my seventeen-year-old father, and me in my cradle. We all were in the office of the head doctor of the hospital. The doctor didn’t seem to be happy as she was being quite curt. My father began sobbing and the doctor's attitude changed to a more gentle one. The doctor listened to the mother’s story about her child studying in another city and about life in the dorm. My father was unable to talk because he was still choked up. Grandma pulled up his sweater and undershirt to show the birthmark on the lower portion of his back to the doctor then they showed the same one on my back. The doctor then filled out the birth certificate.

Minde wanted to name me something related to crystals, my father was addicted to crystals because he built lasers. His mom preferred Kristijonas (Christian, like Hans Christian Andersen). She said there was no Crystal-related name. Later I was called Kris, Krisis, Krisiukas, and all other possible derivatives of my name.

“Child's name is Kristijonas then,” Doc said, “who is his father sweetie?”

 

 

I was officially born on December 31st. For some reason, the wrong year was put on the certificate and I was suddenly two years older than I actually was. They didn’t find the mistake until my birth certificate was needed for kindergarten and by then it was too late to correct it.

My father left a couple of days after the New Year. He came home only on vacations or long weekends. For me, he was more like an older brother. When I was growing up, I didn’t know he was my father. He was my bro Minde and I was Kris. His Mom was my Mom and his Dad was my Dad. We lived in a two-room flat in a complex. There were no bedrooms and no dining room just two rooms. One for parents and one for us kids. There was a kitchen eight by seven feet and a bathroom six by five feet. Our parents’ room was ten by fourteen while our room was eight by twelve.

Minde came home after he got his second doctorate and I was starting school. He got a grant to build a short impulse laser lab at a local institute of semiconductor physics. While waiting for equipment, he and his buddies built their first green light laser. They were young, keen, and rebellious like all young people were. Then perestroika and glasnost began and being rebellious wasn’t that wrong.

A year later, Minde was invited to an international conference on laser physics in Prague. His boss told him that he needed to look more presentable and that his long hair, which was down to the middle of his back, needed to go. Minde was upset, but the conference meant too much to him so he sought out a barber.

“If I cut the hair of every girl who came in here because they had a fight with their boyfriend or something, their mothers would eat me alive!” the barber said. “Come back here with your mother. If she says that it’s okay, then I will cut it. But, not without her say so.”

Our parents thought that it was such a great idea, that they brought me with him! We both walked out sporting crew cuts.

 

 

Mom and Dad were not bothered by Minde's feminine appearance. They had told us that dad’s puberty didn’t start until he was twenty-seven. Minde’s started after the crew cut. He began to sport bushy eyebrows and started to shave twice a week. It was the same with Dad as he still had the eyebrows and shaved. There were some other minor changes like a little wider chest and a more angled face. He was more like a man in his appearance as compared to a frightened girl that he resembled earlier.

I appeared as Minde had looked when he was younger. I was mistaken for a girl rather often. Otherwise, I was growing into a normal boy as opposed to a prodigy like Minde. I wasn’t at the top of my class, but I was close. Unlike Minde, I adapted very easily to all social environments. When it was just Minde and me, I was the one taking care of everything, no, I wasn’t being bossy, I was in charge, I took responsibility for what was happening. I was ten at the time and he was twenty-seven.

 

 

Minde came back from the conference a different person.

Our parents had anticipated he would completely man up now. Another vast change in Minde’s life was making friends easier. One of his new friends was Stan who was from America. They both worked with lasers of the same class and wavelength.

Nothing special happened in our personal lives over the next three years. Then Stanley came to visit suddenly. Because nothing special happened in our personal lives didn’t mean that nothing happened at all. Our country got its independence.

Stan was here to invite Minde with his family (that’s his wife and kids if any) to come to America, to live and work there. Stan spoke Russian with a horrible accent but we could understand him and he could understand us.

Minde was thinking about going with Stan. Work at his lab had ceased because the funds had dried up at the moment and for foreseeable future. I convinced myself that it was for the best. I’d been worrying to death probably, but I worried about him every time he was late coming home from work. And then I got the first shock of my life – Minde’s my Father and not my brother!

Well… Not well! Ah, I didn’t know… Mom and Dad both said that everything would be the same. They would still be my Mom and Dad, and Minde will be my brother as always and only be my Father only in an official capacity. The important part of all this was I could go or rather I had to go to America. I’ll be with Minde and I’ll take care of him there instead of worrying about him here.

I’ll be taking care of Minde like I took care of everything back home.

With Mom, Dad, and Minde working I was the first to arrive home after school around three in the afternoon every day. My duties were shopping for food and anything else that was needed for the home. I prepared meals. I had to hand wash everything as we had no washing machine. Mom did her delicates by herself. As far as cooking is concerned, I cooked nothing fancy just the most basic meals from flour and potatoes. When meat or fish were available, I added them.

I knew everything about Minde’s wardrobe. I knew how to keep them clean and how to make Minde presentable if needed.

 

 

Stan said his office would take care of all the paperwork for Minde and me, however, I needed to go to the Embassy to fill out some forms required for school. There was a representative office of the United States, in our city we all called it an Embassy. I was used to doing things for myself, so I took my birth certificate and went to the embassy. After some interrogation by an officer at the entrance, I was let in and was directed to the office where a lady was waiting for me. She said I had to supply a certificate of fluency in English, or else I would have to start at the fourth grade level instead of the tenth. She gave me the name of the company where I could get certified. I was lucky this company was close to home.

I was thirteen and I spoke four languages. Russian, Polish, Yiddish along with my native language, and I was studying German in school. Now to learn English. That nudnik in the embassy said she’ll send me back to fourth grade without a certificate. I went to the Company she told me to on the same day. They said they provided English language courses, the minimum term was six months. I didn’t need the courses, I needed the certificate by next week. After talking with them, they told me to bring the money for a one-year course and they would provide me with a certificate. I got it the same day along with some course material. They said English was a kind of universal language used in airports and at hotels worldwide.

At home, I perused the books I was given. I discovered that English was very similar to Turbo Pascal. I was sure that I'd survive with it. I brought it to the embassy. Now all I could do now was wait for the papers to arrive.

Before Stan left for America, he told Minde to call him when our papers arrived. The papers came in two files in a large manila envelope towards the middle of May. All those papers were in a language I didn’t understand, though I had a certificate that said I spoke it fluently. I wasn't sure as to what they meant, It looked like they incorrectly spelled my last name and they had my first name as Crystal instead of Kristijonas. Minde said that everybody will know me as Kris anyway, so why bother as we didn’t have the time to change them. There were some numbers and some tick marks but who would know what they were about?

We were finally ready to call Stan.

Back in that time, our phones didn’t have any buttons just a rotary dial. To call Stan we had to dial ‘8’ and wait for the phone station to answer. Then we had to dial in the country code, regional code, the number itself, and four zeros. Then we had to wait for the station signal again. Finally, we had to dial our phone number. That made twenty-one digits. It was the fourth attempt that we succeeded.

Stan told us we needed to get our health certificates. And then he would come and meet us to shepherd us on to America. He gave us lists of doctors for each of us and told us to get detailed health histories. Good thing it was still June because beginning in July, everyone who was entering a university or college needed a health certificate and they were valid for one month. You couldn’t get certificates beforehand. Within two weeks we got all the certificates we needed. Among them were statements that we were not nuts, that we had no AIDS, no STDs, that we were vaccinated. And almost anything that could be checked and certified.

Stan arrived on Minde’s birthday, the sixth of July. We left the next day by bus for Warsaw and then from Warsaw to New York by plane. During the trip, Stan told us we will live on some island named Rode and to be more exact in a village called Wakefield. Minde will be going to work at Kingstown Labs and I will be attending school in the same village.

 

 

2. Arrival. New home. What yogurt to buy? The lifesaver. Getting to know my neighbors.

We thought we were going to be living in a small village but when we started driving through a neighborhood of decent-sized houses, we began to wonder, and then we pulled up in front of one of them! We got out of the car and walked up to the front door of this sprawling dwelling. Stan got out the keys and let us in. Minde and I each got our own bedrooms along with our own private bathrooms, all on the second floor. On the first floor, there was a large kitchen and a room with a table. Next to that, there was a room with a TV and then another bedroom with another bathroom. Finally, there was a basement where there was a couch, a TV, and a small room with a washing machine. I noticed that the machine had instructions that included pictures, which was a good thing, so I could understand how to operate it.

Stan gave me some money “in case I needed to buy something.” As he and Minde walked out of the house. They were going to the lab and said they would be back for dinner.

I was alone, as usual, and I went to my bathroom to get refreshed from the trip. Ten minutes later I was clean and naked in my room looking for something to wear, however, I had only my dirty clothes. We had used our luggage for books and I only brought a raggedy doll as a talisman so we had no clean clothes to change into. We needed our books as it would be impossible to get them over here. My underwear was not so dirty and I put it back on. I checked the chest and the closet and they were empty, I was wearing the same clothes I had been wearing before. My room was dominated by pale green, gold, and white. I liked the coloring. The time was one o’clock in the afternoon. I had enough time to go shopping both for my and Minde’s change of clothing as well as for some food for dinner.

Our house was at the end of the dead-end street. I had to walk six houses to the street that would lead me into town. I noticed a florist shop where I crossed the street then walked another fifteen minutes to get to a small strip mall where they sold clothes, food, and other assorted things. I decided to food shop first and was taken aback by what I’d found inside. There was just about anything anyone could wish for. But everything was in some very strange packages or weird coloring like milk in a red pack. I was looking for something very common where I came from but I couldn’t find it. I didn’t know if it was called something else here, I would have to look it up. I ended up substituting Black Rye Bread, Sour Cream, and Soured Milk. I was considering, at first, only getting fruits and veggies. But then I opted for chicken, young potatoes, and some veggies for a salad. When I got home, I prepped chicken with herbs I’d found in the shop and let it season for about an hour. Half an hour later I was back looking for some comfort food, something sweet in other words.

At mom and dad’s home, we had a German TV channel, and there were ads every ten or fifteen minutes. One of them was for yogurt. I knew what it was and wanted to taste it. I’m sure I’ll eventually buy some, but I couldn’t decide what flavor, there were too many choices there. I’d bought bananas and pineapple, they were fruits that I hadn’t eaten before and some oranges. I left fruit at home and I went back to the strip mall, for underwear this time.

I found bulk packs of briefs for myself, I wanted white, but there were none in my size. What I did find, however, was a bulk pack of white brief with a stylized cat’s face on the front. The briefs I was wearing were not white, they had blue trim and blue seams, the white material was a light blue with shades of gray in them. I usually tucked my thingy down and back to prevent yellow urine spots on the front of the light-colored underwear. These new briefs had a double layer down where my thingy was usually tucked. I fancied them more than my old underwear.

It was summer and hot, but the temperature might drop at any time. I was looking for undershirts when a sales lady approached.

“Looking for something sweetie?”

I understood when people used simple words in short sentences. I tried to explain to her that I was looking for something to put on under my shirt. This was awkward, I knew how to ask for an undershirt in four different languages, but not in English. I was about to demonstrate what I needed and she offered me a bra.

I said I didn’t need it because I was flat. She ended up giving me what she called a cami. The sales lady insisted on I put the cami on under my shirt and gave me some others. I told her that I was fifteen because that was what my ID said, although, really I was only thirteen. She told me that at my age it was improper to go around without something underneath my shirt and I might get in trouble because of it. The last thing I wanted to do was get into trouble so I put it on.

My shopping for today was over and I now needed to concentrate on something for Minde to wear. I asked the same sales lady about some boxers for my bro. I showed her his sizes that I had recalculated from centimeters to inches. I got a bulk pack of some grayish satin boxer shorts and then asked for cami for Minde.

“Do you mean ‘tank top’?” she asked.

No tanks, thank you very much!

She gave me the same undershirt as my cami just in Minde’s size.

Socks weren’t a problem both in my and Minde’s sizes. I bought a pack of white socks for me and another pack in black for Minde.

I’d had enough shopping for today so I headed home. I planned on stopping at the florist on my way, I introduced myself as a new neighbor. Then I bought two pots – one with Saintpaulia and another with Gardenia. Even without flowers, these plants were beautiful and they will add some coziness to our new home.

At home, I removed the cami. I wasn’t too hot in it, however; I wasn’t used to so many layers in summer. Could I leave it at home? Who is going to check what underwear I have on?

 

 

Minde came home, with Stan, sometime between six and seven pm, at the exact time the chicken came out of the oven. The salad and mashed potatoes matched great with it.

“Kris, you'll make an exceptional housewife someday,” Stan said in English, “and a pretty one.”

I thanked him and blushed. I wasn’t used to being complimented for doing my job. I didn’t understand everything he said, I assumed it was something polite.

“I’ve set up an appointment with the Doctor tomorrow morning,” Stan continued. “Her office is near the store where you’ve gone shopping. Take all health certificates you have with you, and she’ll make you one for school.”

“What store? There’re no stores only shops.”

“The place where you go shopping is called the store,” Stan explained.

 

 

The next morning I convinced Minde to put on his new underwear. I told him to go shopping after work for some shirts and trousers that he can change into. I was going to go to the Doctor's first then to the store for some clothes for myself.

I put on my new briefs, tucked what I had under myself and back. Then I put that cami thing on, though I wasn’t sure why I needed it. But it was kind of formal and I didn’t want any misunderstanding.

The doctor was a woman around Mom’s age. I handed her all of my health certificates,

“You don't want to get undressed sweetie?” Doctor offered.

“No, I don’t,” I replied.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

I told her that for me to get all those certificates, I had to undress completely, and I had eighteen certificates.

“Then undress just to your undies,” she said and I complied and undressed to briefs. She let the nurse measure my height (four feet and eleven inches, which had to be one forty-nine as measured back at home). Then she weighed me (seventy-two pounds and I didn’t know how many kilos it was, at home I was thirty-four).

“You have to eat more,” the Doctor said, “you are underweight.”

Then the nurse measured blood pressure and checked my vision.

“When was your last period?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure what it was about. Maybe something when I was at the doc last time. So I said, “Ten days ago.”

“Do you take pills?” Doctor asked suddenly.

I said “No.”

“Do you need birth control?”

“What is it?”

“Do you want a baby to accidentally drop into your lap?”

I thought about when Minde found me in the box at his door. He had to immediately take me home, and Mom took care of everything. I couldn’t go home if someone dropped a box with a baby in it at our front door. I said “No! I definitely don’t want that!” maybe a little too heartily.

The doctor chuckled at my reaction. Then said “here is the prescription for your birth control,” handing me a piece of paper. “Don’t forget to get a prescription for your vitamins at reception.”

I thanked her, dressed up, and was about to exit when she said. “Come back on August twenty-eighth for another prescription.”

I thanked her again and went to the waiting area where a reception nurse gave me a few prescriptions. I went to a nearby pharmacy with the prescriptions still in my hand for vitamins and my pills. The sales lady finished with me and turned to another customer. I remembered I had another prescription. I handed it to another pharmacist and got a little box with pills. As I was near the grocery store, I decided to get something for tonight’s dinner.

At home, I’d checked all of the boxes from the pharmacy. Everything was one pill daily some with a glass of water while others under the tongue to dissolve.

 

 

Stan said the doctor sent my health certificate to the school I’ll be attending in September. I’ll have to go to school for a schedule a week before school started. Thus, I had six weeks for Minde, our home, and myself.

Stan was coming every morning to take Minde to the lab and drop him off home after work as Minde had no car. About a week later, he purchased what I thought was a luxury car, compared to what we had at home, it was an almost ten-year-old Hyundai in a dark lilac color. He started to come home after work later and later. Once he called to tell me he had to stay in the lab overnight, but didn’t come for three days!. It was the same as when he was working back in our hometown. There was no sense for me to make dinner or breakfast for only myself. I had some fruit, yogurt, and bubblegum for breakfast and I had some salad and cold soup for dinner. I didn’t watch TV because I didn’t understand the language. I had books in my language that I had brought instead of clothes and I had my housework to do while waiting for Minde to come home.

 

 

We had some toiletries and home supplies but we didn’t have a large stock. I had to go to the store every day to refill the stock. Minde finally took me to one of the big box stores so we could stock up on some things for a month or two, so I didn’t have to keep buying some things every other day. While we were there, we decided to splurge a little on some more clothes to build up our wardrobe. I still had to go shopping every day and I had to bring everything back on foot.

I’d been here about two weeks and was coming home from my first shopping trip of the day, as I was passing one of the homes, I saw a long table in the yard covered with various things and there was a handmade banner that said ‘Garage sale’.

“Everything on the counter is one dollar dear,” a woman behind the table told me. I was looking for things to make our house feel homier. I found a clock to hang on the wall. Then there were dyed dark green flower crates and a barbecue grill. There were jars for flour and sugar and similar things. There was some kitchenware that I knew what it was called in any language but English. I had no idea in what store to buy them. Getting them new would cost a lot more than a dollar for an item.

As I looked around I spotted something that wasn’t on a table that attracted my attention. It was a bicycle with a basket mounted in the front.

“Is this for sale also?” I asked.

“It’s more than a dollar,” the woman said with a chuckle. “Is twelve a deal?”

“I’ll take it,” I said immediately. Then I saw something else out of the corner of my eye, there was a trailer that could be attached to the rear of the bike. The bike’s wheels were the same size as the trailer’s ones. For twenty-five dollars, I got the bike and a trailer. I even got locks with it! I also got a pump and a spare tube. The bike was for someone as short as I was. I guess that was the reason it wasn’t in great demand. It was old, its leather saddle was cracked and the color was weather-washed but otherwise, it was as good as new.

For me, my new bike was a real lifesaver.

 

 

While I was at that yard sale, I bought a lot of kitchenware such as baking trays and grates. I’m not sure what to call everything I bought there. I wouldn’t know where to buy them if I could. I bought them to make cookies. I knew Minde and Stan liked my butter cookies. Others might call them Danish cookies. I usually made my dough with very little sugar; I sprinkled the rest of the sugar over the hot cookies just from the oven. If the sugar crystallized over the cookies, they tasted heavenly.

One afternoon, I devoted myself to making cookies so Minde would have something to take to his lab when he wasn’t coming home for dinner. I got the idea that it might be a good time to meet neighbors. With some fresh homemade cookies in a box, an introduction might go much easier. We had four neighbors. On the left, there was a house at the same end of the cul-de-sac. There were two houses on the other side of the street and one house on the right as you walk down into the town.

It was just after six when most people were home from work. I grabbed one box filled with still-warm cookies and headed to our neighbor on the left. I had gone over what to say over and over in my head. I practiced for a few hours while the cookies were baking on how I would introduce myself to the neighbors. There was no doorbell so I simply knocked on the door and it was answered quickly.

“Hello, my name is Kris and I’m your new nei…”. The door was shut into my face I thought it was shut so they could release the door chain and then open it. It wasn’t. I mean the door wasn’t opened. I waited for a couple of minutes and then left. I’d never considered what I’d do if this happened. I wasn’t going to knock again and I wasn’t about to leave the box with cookies at the door as a present. Or was I?

Well… I went to the next house on the other side of the street from our home. There was a doorbell and when I pressed its button I heard that fancy ‘Ding-dong’ ring inside the house. I waited a minute and then another and nobody opened the door. There were two cars in the driveway and I had seen them both pull in. I mean the cars. I heard some movement inside. I supposed someone came to the door and looked through the peephole. But the door wasn’t answered even after I’d rung the second time.

I went to the next house. I was thinking that people weren’t as neighborly as back home. There was no doorbell at the third door so I knocked. The door was answered almost immediately by a woman who looked younger than my Mom.

“Come in sweetie,” she said after I introduced myself, “would you like to have a cup of tea. Or would you prefer some soda?”

Do they drink soda? I used soda to wash bedclothes. No way will I drink it. I wasn’t a tea fancier either. But I'd rather drink tea than soda.

“Tea is ok I guess, Madame,” I said.

“Melanie, please,” she corrected me.

“Ok. Madame Melanie.”

“No, no, no… Just Melanie, without Madame, please. Your accent is strange. Where are you from?”

I tried to explain it to her.

“Louisiana then?” she said. Oh no! I gave her a lesson about Central European geography. It made her day when she found out I was someone from a country she didn’t imagine ever existed.

“It’s good to have you here. You are at least my Sandra’s age. She’s fourteen and she'll be coming home on Sunday from cheerleader camp.”

Camp I understood as tents and bonfires but what it had to do with leaders at the age of fourteen?

“Who made those cookies? Where is your Mom by the way,” Melanie asked, “I haven’t seen her around your home.”

Mom? I didn’t have Mom. I told her the truth, “My mom doesn’t live with us.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Melanie patted my hand reassuringly.

 

 

3. Hanging out. Sleepover. Minde’s girlfriend? Another yard sale and Claude’s mom.

I went back over to Melanie’s when Sandra came back from camp. There were no other kids in the neighborhood, so she had no friends here As I was new here, I had no friends either.

The very first thing she said when she saw me was, “It’s a kid, mom! How old are you?” she asked looking at me, “ten, eleven?”

Well, I know I was a little underdeveloped for thirteen, but ten? It sounded like an insult. According to my certificate, I was fifteen and so that’s what I told her.

“No way!” she pouted but then she grinned and turned to Melanie, “I guess Kris is old enough to chaperone me to the mall.”

“Do what?” I didn’t know the word and it sounded more French than English.

“Go to the mall with me,” Sandra explained.

“Why?”

“I don’t want her hanging around the mall alone,” Melanie explained. And then she added, “Sandra’s too young.”

I figured that ‘hanging’ in her turn of phrase had nothing to do with a rope. So I had nothing to say to keep the conversation going.

“I ride my bike there,” I said instead.

“Are you talking about the piece of crap at your porch?” Sandra wondered.

“It’s not a piece of crap! I have fixed what had to be fixed and it rides like new!” I complained.

“You have to repaint it. Definitely.” Sandra announced. “No bee-eff-eff of mine will ride a shabby thing of faded color.” So we were already bee-eff-effs, Sandra and I. I'd have to look that word up in my dictionary, but I assumed it was something honorable.

“I haven’t found a place where to buy the paint and brushes and…”

“No worries!” Sandra exclaimed. “I’ll show you and I’ll help you to transform that not-a-piece-of-crap of yours into some cute thing.”

 

 

“What’s this?”

“It’s a paint for your bike,” Sandra explained.

“Rose…?”

“Pink,” she stated.

“Why?”

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s not,” I complained, “It’s the color of fresh pork.”

“WHAT!?”

“Pig’s meat,” I explained pointing to my sides showing where that meat comes from.

“I like pink,” Sandra whined.

“You are not alone. Many people like pork.”

“I’m talking about color, not meat.”

“Maybe lilac then?” I offered.

“The flowering bush?”

“Uh-huh, it smells good.” And it's the same color as Minde’s car.

 

 

Sandra and Melanie and I were getting closer and I was spending a lot of time at their home until Sandra offered something inappropriate.

“Hey, do you wanna have a sleepover?” Sandra offered.

In all four languages, I knew “sleep” had two meanings – the rest and the sex. To take a rest no one needs company. It meant she was talking about sex.

Well… I was taking the pills that the doctor had prescribed to avoid having babies. No, babies weren’t the problem, the problem was that I wasn’t prepared for it to come so out of the blue. Another problem was…

“Linda, Rachel, and Alice would be there also,” they were Sandra’s friends from the mall.

“Huh…” four girls and me? I wondered if the word ‘sleepover’ had another meaning? Or was Sandra about to arrange an orgy at her home under her mom’s nose?

“We’ll rent some videos, have some pizza…”

“Aha…” so it was kind of a party!

“Do I need to bring anything?” I asked.

“Just a nightie.”

I didn’t know what it was so I probably didn't have it. “I don’t have it.”

“How do you sleep then?”

What’s the right answer: ‘in bed’ or ‘on a bed’? “In a bed?” I offered.

“Sure you sleep in bed but what do you wear at night?”

“Underwear?” I wasn’t sure we were talking about the same thing.

“You need a nightie,” she said. “Let’s go to the mall.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve planned to go looking in the woods…”

“The woods? Why?”

“It’s August, and I need some blueberries for a blueberry pie. I don’t like frozen ones like in the grocery store so I need to go into the woods and…”

“What you need is the Farmers’ Market. It’s two blocks away from the mall,” Sandra said.

“I thought the right name was a ‘bazaar’ and not a Farmers’ Market.”

“Bazaar is a fashion magazine.”

I knew what some words were, but their meaning wasn’t what I’d expected, their meaning was different than in other languages.

“Let’s go,” Sandra nudged me.

 

 

We met Sandra’s friends Alice, Rachel, and Linda at the mall. They were there all the time and when they weren’t, they were at ‘practice' at school, whatever that was.

They all agreed that I was ‘cute’ and so I needed to wear something cute at night. What they meant was a long light blue shirt that almost came to my knees with ponies on the front. I don’t think they knew that I was fifteen.

“I can’t,” I complained, “I’m not a kid.”

“Try it,” Linda offered, “and see how good it looks on you.”

I was about to put it on over my clothes but they stopped me and ushered me into the changing area. I expected them to leave me to change but the four of them just stared at me.

“Don’t be shy, it’s just us here,” Rachel said.

I took off my tee-shirt and shorts and was left in just my briefs with a round-faced cat on the front. I covered my chest with my left hand where the cami was supposed to be, I wasn’t wearing one because I didn’t like it.

“You look so cute in your hello-kitty panties,” they all four gushed.

My thingy was tucked down and back, as usual, to avoid yellow urine spots on white underwear. So there was nothing really to look at. I guess the cat’s name was hello-kitty. They didn’t say anything about my not wearing the cami. It was a relief.

I put the long shirt on, looked at myself in the mirror, and… I looked like a kid. I turned back to face them and was about to complain “What did I say?” but they all clapped their hands and Sandra exclaimed, “You look so sweet!”

I had to buy the nightie and a pair of pajamas with the same ponies on the top and lilac pants. Then we rented two videos for the night and went home.

 

 

“Minde called and said he'd be home by six for dinner with Stan and McCroy,” Melanie said when we got to Sandra’s place.

I had given Melanie’s number to Minde for emergencies because I was spending so much of my time with Sandra and Melanie.

“Who’s McCroy?” I asked.

“Minde didn’t say,” Melanie replied. Then asked, “Do you need any help sweetie?”

“No, thanks. I’m good,” I said. I still had six hours till they got home. “I’d better go home now.”

 

 

Six hours were barely enough. I got back from the grocery store about an hour later. I made roasted pork covered with young onions and mayonnaise. Pork is tender enough and it doesn’t require seasoning when it’s stewed under onions. Vinegar from mayonnaise makes it very tender. In the time of stewing in the oven, most of the vinegar evaporates and the result isn’t as tart as it could seem. Add grated cheese to it and mmmmm…

I made butter cookies for dessert and they were almost ready, I needed some wine to go with them. I tried to buy a bottle but they wouldn’t sell it to me even though I said it was for my dad.

I didn’t have to worry about cleaning the house, I kept up on the housework daily so I could just concentrate on the dinner.

 

 

Minde didn’t get home until seven, it was a good thing I cooked what I did. I was able to keep it warm and the cheese a little crispy without being burned. McCroy was a woman and a young woman at that! She looked around the same age as Minde. She was pretty. Her name was Cleo. Minde whispered to me it was short of Cleopatra.

Stan picked up the wine. It’s good that Stan came also. Minde never thought about the little things that make life perfect. The wine wasn’t Saperavi, but it tasted fine. He probably had expected beef, and the wine was somewhat on the heavy side, not semi-dry, as I would expect.

After we ate, they wanted Turkish coffee. I told them that it was so strong that they wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. They just looked at each other and snickered. I used a cezve to make the coffee for each of them.

After the coffee, they opened another bottle of wine and I got a feeling that I was a fifth wheel in this company.

They were sitting down talking so I interrupted “If you don’t need me, I've been invited to a sleepover,”.

“Oh, I remember sleepovers, when I was your age,” Cleo said.

“Do you need a ride?” Stan asked. “I can call a cab.”

“Oh, no, I don’t need a ride. It’s right next door.”

“Do you need to bring your sleeping bag with you?” Cleo mentioned.

“They said no. And I got some new pajamas for it,” I replied.

“Oh, you must show us before you leave,” Cleo suggested.

As I was leaving, I showed them my new pajamas.

“So sweet!” Cleo exclaimed. “I almost envy you.”

“Aren’t those for a kid?” Minde asked.

“My words exactly!” I replied. “But the girls said it was perfect for me.”

 

 

Melanie was out visiting a friend so we had the whole house to ourselves.

I had missed the pizza, but as I had eaten before I came over, I was full anyway. Then we had the butter cookies I made.

I thought we would start watching videos but they started painting themselves. First, they painted their faces, then they painted mine. We looked like… like we were painted. They insisted that we all were pretty. They ignored my opinion.

After we finished with our faces we painted our nails, the paint was called ‘polish’. Why was it ‘polish’? I didn’t know. It smelled like acetone.

Finally, it was time to watch the videos. We had almost a bucket of what girls called ‘popcorn’ in front of us and Coke. Coke was like Pepsi but I didn’t like it as much. I didn’t like Pepsi either, but this Coke was even worse.

Before we watched the movies, we washed our faces but left our nails painted.

I changed into my pajamas. Linda, Alice, and Sandra were in camisoles and shorts with frills. Rachel was in pajamas with cartoon mice all over them.

I found it hard to comprehend the movie we watched as they talked too fast for me. See, there was this dog that was injured and it made me tear up. The girls were weeping too, so I guess I shouldn’t be ashamed that I'd shed a few tears.

 

 

The next morning when I got up the girls were still sleeping. I let them sleep in and left a note on the kitchen table that I went home. Minde’s car was in the driveway. I assumed he was home. But he and the others had left. Good. I didn’t want to explain to them why my nails were painted. I used a brush cleaner to remove the polish from my nails. After I took a shower, I was ready to go looking for what Sandra had called the Farmers’ market.

At the florist’s, I went in the opposite direction than I usually go. That was away from all the stores and the doctor’s office. I was now riding in an unknown part of town for me. It reminded me of our street. Only the trees were older and bigger.

As I turned right following directions to the Farmers’ Market, there was a sign with an arrow on it. Under the arrow, there was a “Yard sale at 59 Park Rd”.

Two blocks down the street there was a hand-made banner “YARD SALE”. My bike was from a yard sale and I considered this much more important than the Farmers’ Market. There still were a lot of things that I needed that I was hoping they had.

This yard sale was much bigger than the previous one. It couldn’t be from just one house. They even had a table with refreshments and snacks. And… the prices were more than a dollar.

I found a cardboard box filled with old magazines. They ranged from the sixties to the late eighties. Some were for kids like “Humpty Dumpty”. Others were about housekeeping like “Family Circle” and “The Ladies Home Journal”. Those had some recipes and home arrangement tips that I found useful as I looked through them.

“Hi,” someone said from behind me. I turned around and there was a boy who was probably Sandra’s age. He was tall, almost a foot taller than me.

“Hi,” I replied.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he rather stated than asked.

I wasn’t sure what to say, I mean I wasn’t!

“I haven’t seen you at school,” he said.

“I moved here six weeks ago,” I replied, “My home is not on this street. It’s Cherry Blossom Lane.”

“Oh, Sandra from school lives there.”

“She’s my neighbor,” I confirmed.

“My name’s Claude,” he added. The name sounded French.

“Kristi,” I introduced myself, “it's short for Crystal.”

“So where are you from?”

“From Lithuania.”

“Oh… I know… Sar-oon-as Mar-sue-lon-is.” I assumed it was about Šarūnas Marčiulionis...

“You play basketball?”

“Yeah… I’m the boys’ team captain.”

“What’s this yard sale for? Is someone moving?” I asked as I knew nothing about basketball and wanted to change the subject.

“Uh… No. It’s an annual charity event in our neighborhood.” I had no idea what charity was. I assumed that it just meant that it was a time for people to declutter.

“So… Lookin’ for recipes or fashion tips?” Claude asked motioning his hand toward the boxes with magazines.

“Recipes…” I replied.

“Ok then,” he said and then he walked away.

Magazines were ten cents each. I’d selected a few dozen of them, was about to pay and leave when Claude approached me with some woman.

“Kristi,” he started, “I want you to meet my mom.”

Okay, so that’s his mom! After we introduced ourselves, she gave me something – a “June Platt's New England Cook Book”. It was well worn like any cookbook should be.

“How much?” I asked. I expected it to be no less than ten dollars ‘cause recipe books were always expensive.

“It’s my present to a new girl in our town,” she replied.

Well… sometimes it happened back home when Minde and I were mistaken for girls. Mainly because Minde was shy and girly. This was the first time it happened to me here. I didn’t want to make a fuss, complain and embarrass Claude and his mom. Claude and I will attend the same school. We’ll laugh at this mistake later anyway.

 

 

When I got home I’d found Minde’s car still in the driveway but nobody was home. Sandra and the girls were gone too. They probably went to the mall.

I read Claude's mom’s book a little and a recipe for Clam Chowder caught my attention. I went to the grocery store, bought all the ingredients, and started making the dish. It’s fun cooking something you have never cooked before. It took me more than two hours to prepare. I hoped it was good.

Minde and Stan got home just as I was starting to worry about where they were. They liked the chowder. Stan complimented me again. I thanked him and I told them a joke.

“The clam chowder was from a book that I got as a present,” I was trying to keep my face serious, “the lady who gave it to me mistook me for a girl.”

When you say a joke you expect other people to laugh or at least chuckle. No reaction this time.

“What do you mean by ‘mistook’?” Stan asked after a minute of uncomfortable silence.

Was he joking? Or was he serious? I looked at Minde but his face was looking away. Stan had this worried look on his face.

“You’re not a girl?” Stan stammered at last. “All your papers are for Minde’s daughter Crystal…”

I turned to Minde. My blood started to boil in rage.

“MINDE!!!”

“Serves you good for teasing me back at home all these years!” Minde retorted.

I still was fuming but I needed a way to fix this, not an argument. So if all my papers say that I am a girl, do I have to live as a girl? Was there any way to correct them before school started?

“Can you correct them?” I asked Stan.

“It may take a few years because ICE is involved.”

“So, what do I do now? I don’t know how to be a girl!” I exclaimed.

Minde started to laugh at what I said. Stan soon followed. It was a few minutes before they calmed down.

“WHAT?” I asked angrily.

“Just be you,” Stan said, “and no one will mistake you for a boy.”