“I know Dad doesn’t want you at home unless you’re willing to change back, but when I have a place of my own, you’ll be welcome to join me there. I don’t know when I’ll have anything to offer that’s better than the sofa bed you’re sleeping on now, though.”
Sunday morning, I put on the gloriously, fractally frilly dress that Meredith had given me. Meredith, Sophia and Mrs. Ramsey also wore gorgeous dresses, though less elaborate than mine. Mr. Ramsey was looking pretty sharp in a suit with a tie. We got to church around twenty minutes before the service started, and they chatted with friends in the vestibule for a few minutes beforehand. Meredith introduced me to her friends as “my friend Lauren who’s living with us while she establishes North Carolina residency,” which was true enough. I got a little anxious for a few minutes at all the new names and faces, but everyone seemed friendly enough, and it didn’t last long before we went into the sanctuary and found a pew. I noticed about a third of the people in the sanctuary were kneeling to pray, and when the Ramseys had filed into the pew, they did the same. Meredith, who was next to me, whispered, “You don’t have to kneel when we do if you don’t feel comfortable, remember.”
I did so anyway, partly because I felt like my anxiety would be lessened if I fit in better, and partly — I’m not sure why. Was it because I still had a little bit of a crush on Meredith and wanted to imitate her and please her? Was it because I was super grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey and wanted to please them? Once kneeling, I managed to close my eyes and calm down enough to pray, something I hadn’t done a lot of lately.
After a couple of minutes, I heard something stirring and opened my eyes to see Meredith getting off her knees and sitting down. Sophia and Mr. Ramsey had already done so; Mrs. Ramsey did a moment later, and so did I. I had about five minutes to take in the decor of the church, which was very different from what I was used to, and the beautiful women and girls in their Easter dresses, before the service started. There were a fair number of visibly venned people, but fewer than I’d expected. I wondered if some had returned to normal human bodies for the special occasion, like Sophia.
When the service began, I tried to follow along and sing with the Ramseys on the hymns (which were out of a hymnbook, not off of PowerPoint slides), but after a brief attempt, I gave up trying to find my place in the prayer book when the congregation was saying something in unison in response to the priest. Meredith noticed, and gave me an encouraging smile, whispering, “It’s okay, don’t worry.”
Once I got over my initial self-consciousness due to the unfamiliar surroundings, I really enjoyed trying out my new singing voice. I hadn’t had as much voice dysphoria as Meredith used to have, but listening to myself sing was a fresh delight. I didn’t recognize many of the hymns, but they sang a version of “Jesus Christ is Risen Today” with slightly different lyrics. I had a feeling I’d be singing in the shower a lot on Saturdays when everybody else was away by the time I showered, just to enjoy the sound of my new voice.
There were fewer scripture readings than I might have expected based on the Christmas Eve service, but more than there usually were back at Crossroads, and the sermon was probably less than half as long as Dr. Debenham’s usual sermon. And then, when I thought it was almost over (because the services at Crossroads usually ended within five or ten minutes after the end of the sermon), they had a communion service — and I remembered that Mrs. Ramsey had explained that they did that every Sunday. That was different in some ways from the quarterly communion service at Crossroads, too, though good chunks of both were just quotes from the Gospel stories about the Last Supper.
Afterward, the Ramseys chatted in the vestibule with various friends for a while before we returned to the house. Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey had put some vegetables in the crock-pot before church. After we changed clothes, they put a roast in the oven and fixed a couple of other dishes that didn’t have to cook for so long. Then we finally sat down to eat.
It was a wonderful dinner, the best family meal I’d enjoyed since I’d been with them, and they really made me feel like part of the family. But I couldn’t help thinking about Mom and Dad and Nathan now and then. They were probably having their Easter dinner, too, but did Mom feel okay enough to cook after what had happened Thursday night? Was she so depressed over Dad’s refusal to compromise that they were eating out, or ordering takeout, or maybe Dad and Nathan were cooking something within their limited skillset? And why had Nathan been the only one to contact me through Mrs. Ramsey? Mom had sounded like she wanted to meet again, but maybe she’d changed her mind.
After dinner, Meredith and I cleaned up, and then we all watched The Greatest Story Ever Told, and played board games and card games for a few hours.
And then it was time to meet Nathan. Meredith offered to drive me, and sit nearby and be ready to rescue me if it went bad, so we got in her car and drove the few blocks to Metamorphoses.
I’d been there as a necklace around Sophia’s neck a couple of times, and I’d heard her tell a lot of stories about working there, but I’d never been there on my own feet or eaten their food. I looked around as we came in, and didn’t see Nathan, but you couldn’t see the whole dining area from the entrance area. A greeter who looked like an elf, with lean features, pointy ears, and long, glossy blonde hair asked us if we were the entire party or if we were joining someone or waiting for someone.
“I’m meeting my brother,” I said. “Wallace, party of two. Not sure if he’s here yet.”
“I’m just her ride,” Meredith said. “I’ll sit nearby so I can see when she’s finished.”
“Let me check if he’s already here,” the greeter said, and looked something up on the computer. “No. I’ll seat you and bring him to you when he arrives.”
“Thanks,” I said, starting to get nervous. We followed them to a couple of nearby but not adjacent tables — there were a couple of families dining in between me and Meredith, talking loud enough that Meredith wouldn’t be able to hear mine and Nathan’s conversation, but positioned so she could see us clearly enough. She sat down and opened the book she’d brought, not looking at the menu — I realized she’d eaten there a number of times, so she probably knew what she wanted. I studied the menu, and had long since decided what I wanted (jerk chicken with beans and rice) and started getting worried about Nathan not showing up when he finally arrived.
“Lauren?” he asked hesitantly. The waitress who’d escorted him was a bunny-girl, wearing a knee-length pastel green and yellow dress. I’d noticed that about a third of the wait-staff tonight were some variation of the Easter Bunny, some more rabbity and some more human; this one was more on the lapine end of the spectrum, but with hands human enough to carry food and drinks.
“That’s me,” I said. He didn’t look any different — if he’d venned, it wasn’t in a visible way. I seemed to remember that Mars Hill University didn’t allow students to come to classes venned except for medical reasons, but he was probably satisfied with his body anyway. “Hi, Nathan.”
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, sitting down. “Dad asked me at the last minute to help him check the fluids on Mom’s car. And then — Mom got all clingy as I was about to go, and wanted another long hug, and — and I only got away by whispering to her that I was meeting you for supper in negative ten minutes.” He spoke fast, with abrupt pauses, like he was nervous. He wasn’t the only one.
“So Dad doesn’t know you’re here?”
“No, he thinks I’m already on the way to Mars Hill. I called yesterday when they sent me to the grocery store for a few things. Mom gave me Mrs. Ramsey’s number to call you at — you don’t have a phone?”
“I’ve still got my old phone, but I don’t have a phone plan yet. I figure I’ll get one when I get a job. I don’t want to mooch off the Ramseys more than absolutely necessary.”
He nodded. “How long are you gonna be staying with them?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. As long as they’ll let me stay or until I can afford a place of my own?”
He frowned. “I know Dad doesn’t want you at home unless you’re willing to change back, but when I have a place of my own, you’ll be welcome to join me there. I don’t know when I’ll have anything to offer that’s better than the sofa bed you’re sleeping on now, though.”
“Thanks.”
About then, the waitress came back and took our orders.
“So,” I said after she left, “how have you been doing, the last year-plus?”
“Pretty okay. I’m working at this little hotel right near the university, and they want me to stay on this summer, so I might or might not come home. Depends on whether I can find somebody to split the rent on a place with and whether I think Mom and Dad need me at home... After yesterday and today, I’m kind of worried about her, honestly.”
I wrung my hands, the guilt I’d felt earlier coming back in full force. “How did she — did she say anything about —?”
“She called me Wednesday to say you’d gotten in touch and they were going to meet you soon, she didn’t know exactly when. And then she called back Thursday to say it was going to be that night. She asked if I could be there, but it was too short notice to take off work. I’d already asked for the days off to come home for the weekend, though. And then later that night she called me and she was crying so much I couldn’t understand much of what she said, except that the meeting with you didn’t go well. She told me a little more Saturday after I arrived, but she shut up about you as soon as Dad walked in the room. What happened?”
I told him about the meeting, concluding with “I was hoping Mom would call afterward and we could meet without Dad around, but I haven’t heard from her yet.”
He frowned. “She’ll probably call you during a break at work next week. I don’t think she wants to call from home when Dad might hear her.”
“Do you think he’s being abusive?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see any evidence of it. But it seems pretty obvious that he’s getting his way when they disagree.”
I must have looked pretty distressed, because right about then, Meredith caught my eye and I could see her miming a question. Did I want to bail? I subtly shook my head at her and turned back to Nathan. “I wish I could help. I should probably call her myself. What are their work schedules these days? What kind of work is Dad doing now?”
“Same thing as before, only he’s commuting all the way to Durham. He leaves at something like seven-fifteen on weekdays. Mom’s still at the same job, and doesn’t have to be at work until ten, so she sleeps until eight-something. This morning they didn’t go to Sunday School, just the main service — I don’t know if that’s a regular thing now or just because I was home, or what.”
“I’ll try to borrow a phone to call her tomorrow after she gets off work, then.”
“Look, I want to be able to talk with my little sister without working around the Ramseys’ schedules. I’ll buy you a cheap phone plan, okay? I’m not gonna splurge, I’m not making all that much, but I can pay for a few hundred minutes a month if you promise to use some of them talking to me.”
I beamed at him. “Really?”
“Yeah. We can’t really do anything about it tonight, but give me your new email address, and I’ll figure something out.”
We still hadn’t directly talked about my coming out and transition. He’d been treating it as a matter of course — a major contrast to how he’d talked when Meredith had transitioned. I wanted to know more about how he’d changed his mind, and what else he might have changed his mind about, but I was cautious about approaching the subject directly, and it wasn’t like there weren’t a lot of other things for us to talk about after so long.
“Thanks! I’ll pay you back once I get a job, but that’ll make it easier to apply for jobs if I can put my own number down instead of Mrs. Ramsey’s.”
The waitress brought our food about then. After we’d started eating, Nathan asked:
“So what have you been doing for the last year?”
I told him the sanitized version of how I’d been staying with different friends, venned into an unobtrusive body, and studying for the GED. “I figured I couldn’t go back to high school after dropping out, but I just found out I can...” I told him more about my adventures of the last week.
“So you’re gonna graduate on time? Awesome. Are the Ramseys gonna help you with college, or are you going to have to pay for it on your own?”
“I don’t want to ask them, and they haven’t offered. I think they’re gonna be stretched far enough with three kids in college at the same time, when Sophia’s a freshman and Caleb’s a senior. I figure by the time I establish North Carolina residency again, I can save up some money and figure things out with loans, grants, and scholarships.”
“Good luck. I’d offer to help, but by the time I’m earning enough to help much, I hope you’ll be close to graduating. And I’ll have loans of my own to pay off, even though Mom and Dad are paying for a good chunk of it.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be difficult, but I think I can manage with the amount of help I’m getting. Just you paying for a phone plan until I get a job is going to be a huge help.” I decided it was maybe time to work around to asking him what had changed his mind about trans people, why he was accepting me so readily now after talking trash about Meredith behind her back when she came out. “I’ve been thinking about my old job at Subway and whether I can use my old manager as a reference. I’d have to talk to her about being trans, so she knows that when people call her asking about Lauren Wallace’s work habits, she knows they’re talking about me. I don’t figure on telling other places I apply for jobs with that I’m trans, but what if she tells them when they call to ask about me?”
“I’m not sure I can help there?” he said, looking puzzled. “I mean, you know her reasonably well, and I’ve never met her. Do you think she’d be okay with you being transgender?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about it and I don’t remember ever hearing her talk about trans people. In fact, if one of my co-workers would start talking about anything controversial like religion or politics, she’d tell them to change the subject.”
“I’d guess she’s a live-and-let-live type, then. But it’s hard to tell. I’d say go ahead and talk with her, and if she seems okay with you, use her as a reference. But if not, you don’t have to tell anybody else you used to work there.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. I’ll call her in the next couple of days. What I’m also afraid of is that she might be okay with me being trans, but still mad at me for quitting with zero notice like that. I was just too panicked to think of calling her before I left Catesville, and before I got very far, I realized Mom and Dad could have the police track me through my cell phone, so I took the SIM card and battery out and never used it again until after I turned eighteen.”
“You haven’t really told me much about that. I mean, you don’t have to say who you hitched rides with and who you crashed with, I see how that could get them in trouble, but your letter didn’t say much about how Mom and Dad found out you’re transgender and why you decided to run away. And they didn’t tell me much, either — I didn’t find out you were transgender until I got your letter.”
I tried to remember what I’d said in that letter. “Well, almost as long as I’d had a driver’s license, I’d been hanging out at the Catesville Mall with the Ramsey girls...” I told him about the venning we’d been doing, and how I’d run into Tim that day and decided to run away. “So I took all the money I could out of my savings at the ATM, then took my phone apart and drove away from the mall, and I won’t say anything more about what happened until I showed up on the Ramseys’ doorstep last Sunday.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “The cops won’t hear anything from me. No reason they should poke into things anymore now that you’re eighteen, anyway.”
“Yeah.”
I still hadn’t really learned what I wanted. Maybe I should ask more directly instead of bringing up the subject and seeing if that prompted him to talk about it? “So what about you?” I asked when he didn’t say anything right away. “I mean, I was just as afraid of you finding out I was trans as I was about Mom and Dad. I hoped we could get along again eventually, but I didn’t really expect it this soon... what changed?”
“Your letter started me thinking,” he said. “Not right after that, but a few weeks later, I did what you suggested — I looked up ‘transgender’ on Wikipedia, and followed a shit-ton of links from that article because it didn’t make sense the first time I skimmed it. Eventually I learned enough of the terminology to make sense of those articles. And when I came home for the summer, I called Caleb Ramsey and we met up for lunch a couple of times, and I picked his brain about it. He’d done a lot of that reading I’d just done back when his sister came out, and he was able to help me with some bits that still didn’t make sense.
“Then Caleb told me about something he’d done to try to understand his sister better. Don’t let this go any further, okay? I don’t think his parents and sisters knew about it at the time and they still might not know. He talked one of his buddies at school into going to another Venn machine — this was back when there wasn’t one in Catesville yet; I think they drove halfway to Raleigh to find one nobody back home would know about them using. Then they turned each other into girls for a couple of hours.”
“Huh. I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Me either, and apparently he never did it again, because it felt awful. He told me he figured that’s how his sister felt her whole life up until she got a chance to use the Venn machine and change into a girl body that suited her like a dude body suited him, or me.”
“Wow.”
“And then, well...” He looked away at a corner of the room and didn’t meet my eyes again for a few moments. “I thought about that for a while, and I considered asking him to go with me to a Venn machine far enough away that nobody we knew would recognize us, so I could find out what you felt like... but I decided I didn’t have to sit on the stove to find out it’s hot. He made it sound horrible, and I figured if you’d felt as bad about having a boy body as Meredith used to, well... you deserved a girl body as much as any girl.
“And that brings me to something I’ve been meaning to say. I’m sorry for all the ignorant things I ever said about transgender people. I’m sure you must have heard me say some of them, I don’t know exactly what I said when you were around, and I can’t imagine how much it must have hurt you. I’m sorry.”
I felt happy tears welling up. “Thank you,” I said. “That means a lot to me.” He smiled awkwardly back at me, and we didn’t say anything for a minute or so.
After a little while, I asked him: “Have you ever venned into anything else, since that day you turned into a falcon and got lost?”
“Not really. I’m just now starting to feel like I know some of my friends at Mars Hill well enough to trust them in a Venn machine. And there’s no Venn machine in Mars Hill; the nearest is in Asheville. I know there’s a group of students who go down there to use it, but I haven’t gotten involved — too busy with other things.”
“Those groups can be good if they have somebody smart and ethical organizing things,” I said. “You’re probably safer venning with them than with one other person you like but haven’t known that long. Like if the person you go in the machine with turns you into a toy car when you wanted to be a cat, the other people in the group can say, ‘Not cool, that’s not what you agreed to turn Nathan into,’ and make him put you back in to change back. If the group is a bunch of pranksters who like seeing who can venn the other person into something weird the fastest, though, you’re better off avoiding them.”
“You sound like you’ve got some experience with that?” He raised his eyebrows.
“One of the people I stayed with was part of a Venn club like that. I mean the good kind. And I’ve read about some others that didn’t work so well.”
“I’ll think about it next semester,” he said. “I’ll be too busy studying for finals the next few weeks.”
“But...” I suggested, “you know how if you get killed while you’re venned, you don’t die permanently?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard about that.”
“Does Mars Hill do routine retinal scans or fingerprint checks to make sure nobody’s venning in unobvious ways?”
He raised his eyebrows. “No.”
“Please let me venn you before you leave town. Not anything major. I could just remove a mole or make your earlobes a fraction of an inch shorter or something. You’d still look the same, but if you got in a wreck going back to Mars Hill, you’d be fine after the venn wears off, or when we put your body in a Venn machine.”
“Huh,” he said. “I hadn’t thought of that. I just figured I liked my body and didn’t want to be different unless it was just for a few hours, so I wouldn’t get any benefit from that protection unless I was willing to put up with a weird body — and transfer to another school and piss off Mom and Dad. But if it can just change you a little smidgen that you barely notice... let me think about it while we finish eating, but I’ll probably do it.”
“Cool.”
We talked some more about what he’d been doing at college, the friends he’d made there and the student organizations he’d gotten involved in, and that led to my college plans, and so on until we’d finished eating and he noticed the time.
“I’d better get on the road,” he said. “Any later than this and I might wake up my roommate when I slip into the room.”
“Do you still have time to let me venn you real quick?” I said. “There probably won’t much of be a line at this time of night.”
“Sure,” he said. While he was paying for our supper, I went over and talked to Meredith, who had finished whatever she’d eaten, about meeting Nathan at the Venn machine.
“You’re going to venn each other?” she asked. “Are you sure you can trust him not to just cancel your change?”
“Yeah, I think so, and if he does, you’ll be right there to change me back. But he’s not going to change me, and I’m not going to change him much — just a smidgen to protect him in case of a car crash or something.”
“Okay. I’ll hold onto y’all’s stuff while you venn him.”
I have four pieces of short fiction available in epub and pdf formats on itch.io. Most of them are also part of ebook bundles where you can get a lot more trans stories for your money (look for the bit that says "Get this story and N more for $X -- View Bundle").
Comments
he seems onboard
good news