Marcia is seventeen, and along with Darryl, has moved south in Alaska to attend the Anchorage campus of the Alaska State University. She wants to pursue her dream, but will it pursue her instead?

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I want to thank Malady, once again, for his help checking through this story for the many errors I frequently insert, as well as listening to my sometimes completely crazy ideas about the direction of the story and telling me how crazy they are!

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Chapter 3.15

May 30th, 2023

8:27 PM

Marcia was out riding Tigger when Darryl phoned her.

“Hi, Foxy,” he said when she answered. “Can you come up to the house? We need to talk about something.”

“Do you want to meet me at the stable?” she asked him.

“No, I think we need to talk in the house about this,” He told her.

“What’s this about?” she asked. “You’re sounding kinda cryptic.”

“Nothing bad, Foxy. I promise that.”

“Okay, now I’m getting suspicious,” she said as she steered the horse toward the barn.

He hemmed and hawed, so she figured she’d get an answer when she got back to the house, but not before, so she hurried Tigger along. She had been taking lessons and was learning quickly, so she had no problem when the horse broke into a trot.

She entered the house and saw that her parents were seated with her brother and her fiance. She couldn’t read the expressions on their faces, but she felt there wasn’t anything to be nervous about. “What’s going on?” she asked as she sat down beside Darryl.

“We’ve got a couple of questions for you,” Mike told her.

“I’ll answer to the best of my ability,” she told her dad.

“Okay. Well, this first question is kinda just a formality,” he started. “If you could have your surgery now, would you?”

“Uh… What do you mean by now?”

“Well, not today. But what if we could get it scheduled for June… say, 22nd?”

“Alaska won’t allow that,” she replied.

“No, but New York and New Hampshire will.”

She pulled out her phone and looked at the calendar. “Well, I’ve got a class that morning, but I suppose if we scheduled the surgery for the afternoon, I could make it. As long as I’m available for Friday at 2.” She glanced up and saw Gloria’s expression. “There’s a lab that day.”

Chet jumped in. “I don’t think Mom and Dad are joking, Marcia.”

She glanced at her brother, then looked back at her parents. She saw the seriousness in their faces. Slowly, it dawned on her that he was right. “Serious?”

Gloria nodded.

“But…”

“I’ve got a question too, Foxy,” Darryl said quietly.

She simply turned to stare at him.

“I think August 5th would make a great wedding date. What do you think?”

-=#=-

June 2nd, 2023

University of Alaska, Anchorage

9:27AM

Judge Matthews and Sylvia were at the university library, researching court records from recent Anchorage history. What they found was strange. The decisions made were not necessarily disagreeable. As a matter of fact, many were decided exactly the way the Judge’s gut said they should be decided, but that didn’t change the fact that the evidence wasn’t conclusive.

In a term he remembered from his younger days, “You can’t get there from here.”

Around noon, they took a break and went for a bite to eat. “What do you think, Bill?” Sylvia asked.

He shook his head. “It’s a real conundrum, isn’t it?” He ran a hand through his scant hair. “Some of these cases… I’m looking at them and…” He paused for a moment. “I know that they should be the way they’ve been. But there’s not enough evidence to prove it, yet they are.”

Sylvia agreed. “How can they decide on these?”

“They shouldn’t be able to Sylv. What I’m seeing is a blatant disregard for what is proper and what isn’t. If a defense attorney decides to object, they’re quickly shot down, if it would interfere with the desired outcome.”

“Some of these are jury trials,” Sylvia objected.

“By controlling what the jury is able to consider – what they hear and don’t hear – a trial can be shaped. That’s what a judge is supposed to avoid doing.”

She nodded in agreement. “This information needs to get to Juneau.”

“I wonder if Bob feels like a bit of piloting time?” Bill wondered.

-=#=-

Chatham Farm

12:47PM

Marcia sat on the grass, occasionally pulling a handful and ripping it apart. She hardly realized she was doing it. Instead, she was focused on her future. She had worked hard to graduate where she had – at the absolute top of her class, and she had watched as Darryl did the same. He had never shown that he was anywhere near the ‘prodigy’ his sister was, but when he applied himself, he had soared ahead of his peers.

He liked to say it was her tutoring, but in reality, she didn’t believe it was. He was smart too! She wanted to attend classes with Darryl. She had loved having some semblance of a normal high school time, staying in the same classes as her friends. Doing the same during university seemed to be a wonderful possibility too, but now she had a decision to make.

To be sure, she’d already told her parents and Darryl she would have the surgery but was it time yet? Should she do it now? She’d mapped out the next year and was planning on taking the following summer for her necessary surgery. Now, though she was given the opportunity of having it early. Did she want that?

Another handful of grass was pulled from the earth. She looked at her hand as if seeing what she was doing for the first time. She looked at the slender fingers, the painted nails. Her eyes traced up her arm. She had a bracelet with a trumpet and flute charm hanging from her wrist. Her arm had just the barest trace of hair the same color as her locks. Nothing looked even remotely masculine.

She glanced down at the rest of her body. With her breasts, trim waist, and widening hips, there was no doubt whatsoever that she was female. If she was to go through the surgery, it would be the end of any possibility of return. Wouldn’t it?

What return? No! That decision had been made long ago. Before she even knew that she was a girl, the decision of who and what she was had been made. It was never hers to make.

She thought about what Mage had told her. She had never been male. The surgery would correct that piece of the puzzle that was her, that had created the confusion. It wasn’t changing who she was. It was clarifying who she was.

-=#=-

June 5th, 2023

Juneau, Alaska

2:30PM

Bill Matthews held out his hand as he stepped into the office. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Ralph.”

“Sure, Bill,” the state judge answered. He was somewhat confused about what his old friend wanted, but he put lots of trust in the adoption judge’s opinions.

They sat down and Ralph Thomas asked, “Coffee?” He got up and poured both of them cups, then came around his desk and sat in a chair facing Matthews.

“What’s it all about, Bill?”

Bill lifted his briefcase onto his lap and opened it. He pulled out a couple of folders and handed one to his old friend, then opened his copy and watched as Ralph looked in his.

Ralph’s face drained of color as Bill gave a rundown of what he and Sylvia had found.

When Bill finished, Ralph had a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ll handle this,” he said quietly. He finally focused onto Bill’s face and reiterated. “Don’t worry, Bill. I’ll handle this.”

“What are you going to do?” the Fairbanks judge asked.

“I’m going to expose this in a press conference and remove them from office.”

-=#=-

June 8th, 2023

10AM

Mike sat at the controls as the plane made its way over the mountains between Palmer and Fairbanks. He and Bob were heading north to see a plane they’d heard about. It was a sister to the one they were in, but it had been run hard and was apparently in need of some repairs.

They started to descend and Bob chuckled when Mike intoned, “Ladies and gentlemen, This is your Captain speaking…”

“Colonel,” Bob corrected.

“This is your Colonel speaking…” He stopped. “Nah, just doesn’t sound right.” He adjusted his headset mic, and without keying it, said, “This is your pilot speaking. Please place your seats in the fully upright position as we are about to attempt a landing on an ice floe, somewhere near the North Pole.”

Bob glanced toward the runway ahead of them, and said, “It looks a bit more developed than an ice floe.”

“But it is near the North Pole,” Mike said.

“North Pole and the North Pole are two completely different things.”

“Hmmm…” Mike nodded. “Good thing I saw this one on the map first then.”

He then keyed his mic and asked for clearance to land.

-=#=-

CMSGT Charles Brown met them as they tethered their plane, and with joviality (man hugs) greeted the two. He ushered them into the Colonel’s car, and asked where they wanted to go.

They pulled up outside an old bush pilot’s business off to the side of the airport. Entering the hangar, they saw a plane that was definitely older, and the paint had faded somewhat. Bob wasn’t sure it was worth the price, even though they claimed it ran fine, but he knew no decision would be made without his feelings being heard. He had to admit, when the engines were started, they sounded great!

But the upholstery inside was well worn. That’s the kindest description that he could come up with for the plane. Well worn.

“Those engines sound good,” Mike said to the seller. “How’s she fly?”

“We got her recertified last week,” the man said. “I wanted to fix her up, then sell her, but I don’t think I’ve got the energy for it anymore..”

“How long has she been grounded?” Bob asked.

“Twelve years. I had a stroke, and couldn’t fly anymore, so she sat.”

“And the inside?” Mike asked.

The seller smiled. “When you fly one of these, the upholstery isn’t the most important thing. If she ain’t flying, she ain’t making money. Can’t make money sitting in the hanger.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Bob agreed. “You probably flew more supplies than people too, didn’t you?”

“That’s a fact. Flew a few live people out to the bush. Flew some dead ones back. Most times though, I flew supplies out to the people who hadn’t figured out if they were living or dead yet.”

“Well, we’d like to talk about it the purchase,” Bob said. “We’ll call you tomorrow. Sound good?”

“I’ll be here.”

The two exited and the Chief Master Sergeant Brown drove them to the Air Force Base.

-=#=-

Chatham Farm

1:30PM

Marcia turned as she heard someone enter the stable. She was on her lunch break and was stroking Tigger’s big head.

“Hi, Melissa. How’re you today?”

“Hi Marcia,” the woman said. “I’m doing pretty good. How’re you?”

Marcia mumbled something that Melissa didn’t quite hear. “You seem antsy,” she said as she observed the girl for a moment.

“I suppose I am. I’ve got some… Well, surgery coming up.”

Melissa nodded. It wasn’t a secret that either Mage or Marcia were trans, but it wasn’t talked about a lot either. In fact, the former police chief wouldn’t have known but for the backgrounds that had been looked up by the police in relation to Bruce’s case. She still found it incredible that the lovely young girl standing beside her was trans. She was jealous of Marcia’s appearance, youthful exuberance, etc.

“Surgery can be a frightening thing,” Melissa said. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, though.”

“I hope so,” Marcia said, wondering what Melissa would say if she really knew what the surgery was. She turned and started back for the door. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’ve got to get back to work. Gotta have the books done before I head off.”

Melissa watched her go, and considered whether she should tell Marcia her own little secret.