High School Sweetheart
Chapter 4
By Lauren Bliss

Sunday morning, I awoke to a breakfast of sugar smacks, and coffee. Mrs. Connolly seemed to always have her hands full, so it was no surprise that she fixed the family’s morning meal by taking the path of least resistance. Still, I thought it nice that their whole clan, all eight of them, had breakfast together. Archie had stumbled in pretty late, well after we went to sleep, and it showed. He shoved his cereal into his mouth in heaping spoonfuls, while watching his father go on and on about how they arrived in the US.

It was my first time meeting Mr. Connolly, but I could tell that it was a story he’d told a thousand times before. Maybe it was how expressive he was, waving his giant arms around. Maybe it was the way his eyes lit up when he got to his favorite parts. It was probably because of the way his kids mouthed the words along with him, not missing a beat. “...and we came here, just before the stock market crashed. I had big dreams when I moved here, and I guess the lord saw fit to remind me that the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Anyway, I worked as a day laborer down at the fish market for a little while, and slowly but surely we saved up enough to put a down payment on a little butcher shop. We must have been ready, because that’s when this fella came along.” He put his hand on Archie’s shoulder, and gave him a loving shake. Loving as it was, it wasn’t gentle, and Archie dropped the next bite on the floor before it could reach his mouth. Mr Connolly continued, undeterred, “Our family kept growing, and with it, so did our little shop. We were running out of room both upstairs, and downstairs, so we had to move over here a couple of years ago. Now the family, and the business are both doing well. I’m so blessed.”

“That’s very interesting, Mr Connolly.” Ela was always so polite with adults. It’s probably why she could get away with murder. She winked to her beau picking up his cereal from the floor, and said, “I can’t say I’m upset you came here when you did.”

“I don’t doubt that, lassie.” he replied, chuckling from his bouncing belly. “I’m glad you'll be joining us for services this morning. Are you girls Episcopalian?”

Ela answered, “No sir, we’re both Catholic.”

I added, “The bad kind of Catholic though. You know, the ones who only go to church on Christmas, Easter, when someone gets married, or when somebody dies.”

Mr Connolly must have thought I was hilarious, because he laughed so hard that he passed gas right there at the table. His family groaned in unison, almost as if to lament, “This again.” They all acted put out, but it was obvious to anyone that there was a lot of love in this household. “Okay, then.” he said, after calming down. “We need to be out the door by ten-forty five. Boys, let the girls have the W.C. first. The three little children with the shaggy red hair all made their displeasure known, but their father was quick to quell them with a pearl of wisdom. “Fellas, a lot more work goes into a lady’s sunday best. It’s only the fair and gentlemanly thing to do, suffering through a little lukewarm water. It builds character.”

He wasn’t lying. It was an incredible amount of work to get ready for church. I was under the impression that it was a day of rest, but the girls had to put in more work on Sunday morning than on the average school day. After the three of us each took a quick shower in rapid succession, we snuck back into Eileen’s room to get ready, letting the rest of the family have their turn in the bathroom. Eileen and Ela quickly dressed themselves, and did their makeup while I bathed, so they could work together to get me up to snuff as quickly as possible. I can’t say I wasn’t relieved that someone else had to handle the task of my makeup, but I was also a little hurt that Ela didn’t think I was capable enough to have it finished before we needed to leave. Both girls were basically ready to go, the seams of their stockings straight, and they were wearing the dresses Mrs. Barclay had bought them, only missing the few finishing touches that complete an ensemble.

Eileen was wearing a green floral number, with a swan neckline, made of organza, and chiffon. She wore her bob as she usually did, though a touch more sculpted than normal. Ela switched it up, and pulled her hair up into a short ponytail. She looked amazing in her new dress. It was a black, pink, and white linen confection decorated with lace, a scalloped neckline and sleeves, buttons up the front, and a little bow accent at the neck. All of that over what I could only assume was a very voluminous petticoat. Strangely, I hoped I looked half as good as them when they’d finished. I told myself it was to keep up my ruse, but in actuality, I was starting to become a little jealous.

They fastened me into a full girdle first, flattening everything in front. Then, they showed me how to affix the stocking to each of the little garter tabs, in case I needed to adjust in the ladies room later. Ela wrapped the corset around me, and with no hesitation, started cutting me in half again. After I stepped into my own petticoat, they both helped guide my new dress over my head, careful to avoid my face so as not to muss the wonderful makeup application Ela had created. Eileen was thorough in her annotations of what she was doing with my hair, from taking out the pins, to brushing out the curlers. “I’m going to go ahead, and pin your hat on, since we’re building your hairstyle around it, today.” she explained. Once everything was in place, I was finally allowed to go to the floor mirror, and get a good look at my semi formal attire. One thing I could say for certain, was that Mrs. Barclay had excellent taste. The short sleeved, rose, gingham shirtwaist dress was absolutely gorgeous. It generously flattered my svelte figure, decorated with a simple black belt at the waist. It buttoned all the way up the front to the crew neckline just beneath my painted visage. My hair was smoothed down on top, falling to my ears with little dainty curls at the ends, and topped with a little crescent hat that perfectly matched the color and print of my dress. Humility is a virtue, and one that I was lacking in that particular moment. I thought I looked sophisticated, and radiant. It was almost time to leave, so Ela put on a pink circle hat, and slid a hat pin through its lace covered wire frame, holding it firmly in place. Eileen placed a simple undecorated white caplet on the crown of her head, and dug through a drawer, retrieving three pairs of wrist length white gloves, one for each of us. We headed to the foyer, where Ela, and I stepped into our conservative pumps while Eileen searched through a sea of shoes till she found the particular pair she was looking for. Even with the generous head start, the rest of the family was already outside waiting for us.

I was sure that when we walked in the chapel, the entire congregation was going to turn in their seats to chastise and shame me for having the audacity to show up in the house of god dressed in such a queer manner. Of course nothing of the sort happened. It was rather uneventful and reminded me a lot of our own rituals, though there was much less latin. I half expected grape juice when it came time for communion, but I can confirm, they used real wine, the same as we did. After the service, they held a spaghetti lunch in the fellowship hall for anyone who cared to join. The mood was pleasant enough, but I overheard a lot of women gossiping about what each other were wearing, and whoever’s husband had a drinking problem, confirming many of the rumors I’d heard about protestants. Whatever the case, they weren’t hurting anyone, and the food was surprisingly delicious. The comfort of the pleasant escape wouldn’t last too long, though. With every tick of the clock, I was edging closer to having to deal with the consequences of my decisions.

“Are you sure I can’t drive you girls?” Mr. Connolly asked for the thirtieth time. We had just returned to their apartment to collect our belongings, and I was finally going to go home and get back into boy clothes.

Ela reassured him, “No, we’re fine Mr Connolly. I make this walk all the time for my mom. It’ll take you longer to warm up your car than for us to get there, sir. I promise we’ll be fine.”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to twist my arm.” he said. “I’ll be picking you up tomorrow for school though. I insist. I’m taking Eileen anyway, and like you said, you’re just down the street.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir.” I said, trying to think of any excuse I could, but coming up short. Unfortunately, he just took this as me being polite.

“No dear, I insist.” He put a finger to his nose, and winked, saying, “You don’t have to tell your mothers. You girls can keep the bus fare for a treat at the soda fountain.”

I attempted another protest, but Ela interrupted, “Thank you, sir. We’ll see you then.” then whispered, “We’ll figure something out later.”

We said our goodbyes to their family before Eileen, and Archie walked us outside for a more personal farewell. Archie and Ela were busy melting into each other’s eyes, and whispering sweet nothings to each other, leaving me and Eileen to have one last private conversation. “You should try out for cheerleading tomorrow, Marion.” she suggested, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re certainly pretty enough.”

“Why would I do that, Eileen?” I couldn’t believe it. It was like every protestation I’d voiced had gone in one ear and out the other. “I’m still a boy under this getup, remember?”

“You say that, but it’s obvious to anyone with one eye and half of a brain that you’re a girl, dear. You’ll see it soon enough.” If I didn’t know better, I’d have still thought she was trying to torture me, but her expression was so loving and genuine. She’d been nothing but kind to me. Out there, absolutely, but kind nonetheless.

“Okay, sure.” I was at a loss for words. We shared a warm embrace. I finally managed to pry Ela away from her new beau. We made the short journey home, where I expected Magda to be waiting for us. I imagined scenes from some cheesy spy movie, where the sidekick distracts the enemy agent, while the hero sneaks in to get a macguffin through some clandestine means. Ela was pretty insistent that we just tell everyone the truth, and at worst we’d get a stern talking to, and our ruse would be one of those funny stories people tell years down the line. I wasn’t convinced though. I was sure Archie’s dad might very well kill me for spending the night in his daughter’s bedroom. I was also convinced I’d be the laughing stock of the entire neighborhood once word got out. One reason I didn’t want to say out loud though, was that I really didn’t want to do anything that could hurt Andy. He’d been nothing but a perfect gentleman, and he really didn’t deserve the social fallout of my decisions.

I’d resolved to run as fast as possible to my bedroom once we swung open the door to our apartment, however my worries proved unnecessary. I was just about to slam my bedroom door behind me when I realized there was no sign of Magda in the apartment. Ela called out from the kitchen, “She left a note…and money for pizza…I don’t know about you, but I’m already sick of pizza.”

I kicked off my heels, and went back to the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“Looks like Mrs. Schwartz, next door, had some kind of heart attack or something. Mom took her to the hospital.”

“Oh. Well, that’s…terrible…” I wanted to say it was fortunate, but realized that it was extremely selfish to be grateful for someone else’s misfortune. “I’m going to wash my face, and then head straight down to Floyd’s.”

“The barber shop is closed. It’s Sunday, remember.”

“Of course it is.” I hung my head in defeat. “I guess I’m going to jump in the shower, and wash out these curls, at least.”

“You’ve got a perm, Marion. If you wash your hair, and don’t set it right after, you’re going to be left with a wild, kinky mess, and then you really will look strange.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just wash your face, put on some comfortable clothes, and I’ll try and sort you out.” I did as instructed, and found myself sitting on the floor in my pajamas, in front of Ela, who was on the couch, setting my pin curls. On the T.V, the Dodgers were playing the Cardinals, but my thoughts were elsewhere. In the morning, Mr. Connolly would be taking the “girls” to school. I couldn’t very well go out to meet them in my slacks and button-down. Sneaking out early was an option, but playing the movie all the way through in my mind, Mr Connolly was such a sweetheart, he’d probably worry about my wellbeing, and check up on me, when he dropped off Ela, and Eileen. Imagine if he found me at school, far more masculinely attired than the last time he’d seen me. I’d not only dread that conversation, but also we’d be having it in front of my new homeroom, or worse, school administration. Of course, that all seems incredibly improbable now, but at the time, I was setting personal records for anxiety levels.

“All done.” Ela had just finished tying up my hair with a chiffon scarf. “What are you going to do about tomorrow?”

“I think the best course of action would be for me to pack a gym bag full of boy clothes, and to change once we get to school. That way, Mr. Connolly will have no idea.”

“I don’t know, Marion. What about your hair?”

“Whatever, Ela. I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

After a deep breath, she took my hands in hers, and looked me straight in the eye. “Marion, this isn’t sustainable. I think it’s time to cut our losses, and just tell the truth. It’ll be fine. The Connolly’s seem to have a sense of humor. They’ll probably find it funny, and Andy…”

“Andy can never know!” I was screaming. It came out of nowhere. For reasons I wasn’t ready to admit to myself, the idea of Andy finding out terrified me more than anything else. “We’ll stick to my plan, Ela!” I got up from the floor, and went to my bedroom, locking it behind me. I don’t know who won the ball game, and I never had dinner. I just cried under the covers until I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke to find Ela already up, and dressed, making breakfast. “Good morning.” she said quietly, when I walked into the kitchen. “Sit, and eat, please. We’ve got a busy morning.”

She made flapjacks, and syrup; my favorite. “I’m sorry about my outburst yesterday. I know you’re just trying to help.”

“I understand. It’s a lot. I do feel responsible for badgering you into doing it in the first place. I should have known better.”

“There’s not a lot we can do about it now. Let’s just get through today, and we’ll deal with the rest as it comes. I’m afraid you’re right though. Sooner or later, we are going to have to tell the truth.”

“Maybe, but you were also right. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” She hugged me tightly from behind, and kissed me on top of the head, while I sat in my chair stuffing pancakes into my face. After the delicious meal, we went to her room to get dressed for the day.

There weren’t a lot of options for girls back then, when it came to school clothes. The dress codes were pretty restrictive, leaving them all looking like young professionals until the weekend. Plaid was the print of the day. Ela was dressed in a green plaid, sleeveless, button-down dress that fit snuggly, but not suggestively, all the way to beneath her knee. Jewelry wasn’t allowed, so she accessorized with a dark green headband, and a pair of black loafers. I was wearing a calf length, red plaid, swing skirt, topped by a plain white sweater set. The knit top had short sleeves, and she’d hung its matching cardigan from my shoulders, so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting too hot during the warm, late summer day. I slipped on a pair of bobby socks, and over those, a pair of brown saddle shoes. Girls weren’t technically allowed to wear makeup, but it was an open secret that they all cheated. The real rule was don’t go overboard. We both were wearing a layer of powder foundation, and single coat of mascara. She arranged my hair back to its perfectly sculpted frozen style, and found two dainty watches, one for the both of us. Dressed, I went back to my room and stuffed a change of clothes into my gym bag.

Ela, and I barely had to wait down at the street, since Mr Connolly pulled up with Eileen right on time. I was grateful, because the fewer of my neighbors that saw me dolled up as I was, the better. Eileen was picture perfect as always, in her lettered sweater with its giant W stitched to the front. She was a varsity cheerleader this year, after all. “Got plans after school, do ye?” Mr. Connolly inquired, noting my bag as we slid into the backseat of his Ford.

“Did I convince you to try out for cheerleading, after all, Marion?” Eileen asked excitedly, her face dripping with joy.

“Yeah, something like that.” I lied, buckling my seatbelt.

The ride to school wasn’t all that far, though to me it felt like we were moving at light speed. I tried to formulate a plan for when we arrived, but I didn’t yet know the campus, so in reality, I was just guessing. “First day back, girls!” Mr. Connolly said with a smile, as we pulled up in front of the building. “Best behavior and all. Marion, and Ela, I’ll see you in the morning. Eileen, I’ll see you at home for dinner tonight. Good luck today!” As we were getting out of the car, it occurred to me that we were going to have to do this dance every morning until I put a stop to it. The idea of coming clean was looking better by the minute.

I quickly scurried up the stairs, before anyone could talk to me, and inside, I searched for a single occupancy bathroom, only to find that at this particular school, they didn’t exist; at least not in any area officially accessible to students. I could peer into the teacher’s lounge through a large window on the door. Inside there was a bathroom, and from what I could see, no teacher’s to stop me. I started to open the door when behind me, I heard a booming voice shout, “Can I help you, young lady!?”

“Uhhh…yes sir…umm…” This man was just plain scary. He was certainly the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen in an argyle vest, and bowtie. “I’m…umm…new…My mother got me registered, but I still haven’t been assigned a schedule, and I have no idea where to go to get it.”

“Well it’s certainly not in there. That’s the teacher’s lounge and it’s off limits. I’m Mr Williams, the vice-principal. If you’d follow me, I’ll take you to the main office. I’m not sure how you missed it though. It’s right by the entrance.”

“Sorry, sir. I’m such a ditz sometimes.” I followed the gruff bald man to the front desk.

He said his hellos to the secretary, then introduced me. “This is…What’s your name, dear?”

“Marion Ryan, sir.”

“I found Ms. Ryan lost in the halls. She needs her schedule, so she can be on her way.”

“Oh right! Ms. Ryan!” the secretary said with a flash of recognition. “You’re the one who had that horrible accident, right?”

“Yes.” I answered, nervously.

“Right. We have so many new students, but I recall yours because it was a special case. It’s not everyday a student misses freshman year in its entirety, but still manages to pass the finals. You’re pretty bright, aren’t you?” I certainly hadn’t been for the previous few days. “Anyway…” she started flipping through several sheets of paper, and found what she was looking for. “Well, this won’t do. It looks like someone checked the wrong box somewhere along the line. They’ve got you in shop class, and boys’ gym. Let me correct that error, and we’ll have you on your way.” She used a pen to cross out my third and fourth periods, and then scribbled in the room numbers for my new electives. “Home Economics for third period, and you’ll be with Ms. Kruger for gym. Do you have your uniform?”

“No, I guess I don’t.” I said, glancing down at my gym bag.

“No problem. What are you…a two?” I just nodded my head, having no idea what she was talking about. She returned with a stack of folded, bundled, cloth, and handed it to me. With a warm smile, she said, “Good luck today, honey.” and shooed me out the door.

Mr. Williams insisted on walking me to my homeroom, where everyone was already seated and the teacher was taking attendance. I quietly found an empty desk, hoping not to attract any unwanted attention, but given I was escorted to class by the VP of the school, of course all eyes were on me, some lingering longer than others. “Marion Ryan?” The question hung in the air. I was frozen. I must have thought of a hundred different plans, and none of them were useful. I almost flung myself out of the window, but I realized I’d die of shame long before the fall would have killed me, since this particular classroom was on the first floor.

“Eh…eh…ehm!” The sound of a forcefully cleared throat alerted me to the fact that Mr. Williams was still standing in the doorway, and he still had his sights set firmly on me. I raised my hand slowly, fighting back tears. This was it. If I showed up to class the next day in a pair of trousers, with my hair chopped off, I wouldn’t fool anyone. I couldn’t find a single good decision to make. Our teacher handed out locker assignments, and we were sent off to find them. After weaving through a few winding hallways, I found mine, which fortuitously just happened to be right beside Eileen’s.

“Hey Marion!” she squealed. “Looks like we’re neighbors! We can meet here during lunch period every day! Who did you get for gym?”

“Umm…” I straightened out the schedule I had unconsciously crumpled in my hand. “Ms…Kruger.”

“Oh, she’s easy! Fourth period?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Oh, me too! Get ready to do some aerobics! They’ll be great for cheerleading, actually.”

“I’m not going to do that, Eileen.” I just couldn’t believe her. There I was, a boy in a bobby socks, and a bullet bra in the middle of a New York City high school, and she was acting like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Unflapped, she replied, “Oh…well you should. You’re certainly fetching enough. Keep in mind, high school is much easier when you’re a pretty cheerleader, I assure you. If you change your mind, tryouts are in the gym after school.”

First, second, and third periods were repeats of the same humiliation. Roll was called, and again and again, I’d have to identify myself as the Marion Ryan he or she was looking for. I mean really, what difference were another thirty kids with first hand knowledge going to make. I’d dug my own grave already by that point. After a dejected trudge down to the girl’s locker room, I stood frozen outside the doorway staring at the A frame silhouette on the placard. “Hurry up, Marion.” Eileen said, while pushing me gently from behind. I was so startled, I didn’t offer much of a fight, and the next thing I knew, I was being helped to a place where no man has ever gone before…at least without getting into a heap of trouble. “Mrs. Kruger lets us get away with a lot, but tardiness isn’t on that list.” I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t fifteen girls not looking at, or talking to each other, while dressing and leaving as quickly as possible. I guess I wasn’t the only one who was fearful of my body being scrutinized by everyone else. I quickly found a locker towards the back by Eileen, and stripped down to my undergarments. I fetched the pastel pink playsuit that I was given that morning, and squirmed myself into it, buttoning the front up to the soft white lapels. The short sleeves, and legs were wide enough to allow for unrestricted motion at least, unlike pretty much everything else I’d worn since this misadventure had started. The crotch however was so tight, that if not for my panty girdle it would have left little to the imagination, and my secret would have surely been discovered.

Once class started, Mrs Kruger had us pair off, so of course Eileen insisted that we be partners. We started our warm ups by stretching each other out. I was pretty sure that I was about to embarrass myself, but all of the physical therapy had kept me limber, despite being trapped in bed all that time. The whole routine seemed pretty light to me, but when I looked around the gym, many of the girls seemed to be struggling. This one girl, Constance, couldn’t even bend down to touch her toes, meanwhile, Eileen, and I were pulling each other into splits with barely a few inches between our nethers. Some girls were already out of breath before we even began the actual exercises. The routine started with us on our backs on the floor, lifting our legs, holding them upright in various positions, while counting along to the beat of some classical record playing in the background. When we found ourselves on our feet, the exercises became more of a dance. It was fun. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard, and definitely the most I’d exerted myself since the previous year, but it was a far cry from trying to lift a dumbbell I was never going to be able to lift while an angry old man screamed and blew his whistle at me. Thirty minutes later we were doing our cooldown stretches, and I’d nearly forgotten my predicament for the first time all day. Mrs. Kruger approached Eileen, and me, squatting down next to us.

“You girls did great today. As per usual, Eileen. Ms. Ryan, I’m counting on you to be an example for the other girls as well. I assume you’re going out of cheerleading, yes?”

“I’ve been trying to get her to, Mrs. Kruger, but she says she can’t.” Eileen added, piling on the guilt.

“Oh, why not?” Mrs. Kruger asked inquisitively.

“Umm…well…my mother is out of town until the weekend, and I really think I should ask her first. Also, I have to get home today straight away after school, so I won’t be able to try out anyway.”

“I’m not sure why your mother would have an issue with a red blooded American girl such as yourself trying out for the cheerleading squad, but it is admirable to have such reverence for your parents. It’s more than I can say for a lot of young ladies today. I’ll tell you what…Don’t worry about the tryouts. I’m the faculty supervisor so you can consider that a formality. Monday is our first practice. When your mother gets back, talk to her, and if she says it’s fine, be here after school, and there will be a spot for you.”

“Thank you ma’am.” I quietly replied, while Eileen sat across from me beaming.

History was next. The only thing I remember about that class to this day, is that he was a stodgy old man who lectured verbosely, with little else in the way of instruction. He was so very boring. If not for the textbook, I think I would have failed every exam. Next was home economics. In previous years, I’d written it off as a substanceless class full of girly nonsense, but boy was I about to find out just how wrong I was. Instead of desks there were several workspaces with two seats behind each. Right in the front row as soon as I entered the room, there sat Ela, who upon seeing me dressed just as prettily as when we’d arrived, shook her head and covered her eyes before taking a deep breath. I took the seat next to her, and got out my notebook. “Hi Marion.” she said, dryly. “I see this morning didn’t go according to plan.”

Before I could respond, the teacher, Ms. Curtly, blew in like a storm, and started passing out syllabi while nearly shouting, “Give me your attention girls because I’m only going to say this once. The first couple of weeks we’re focusing on budgeting for your household, and meal planning, but you’re going to need your own aprons by the time we start on practical skills. Also, make sure to get your own sewing kit by next month, or you will fail that section. Observation is not participation. Please understand that is not a joke.” I’ve never met another person so aptly named. The rest of the class went by without incident, and when the bell rang, I was finally free to worry about something else. What was going to happen when I got home?

I skipped the bus and chose to walk in silence. Ela followed closely behind but didn’t say anything, other than to shoo off some boys in a convertible who stopped to offer her a ride. When we got back to the apartment, I tried to think of some way to stave off discovery, but decided it was time to rip off the bandaid. After ascending the steps, I opened the door and crossed the threshold, where Magda was sitting on the sofa. She stood to greet us. “Kochanie, who is your…” she started before looking me in the eyes, and froze momentarily. “...Oh my lord…” She took a few steps back, and fell back onto the couch, then, after getting her bearings, laid into me. “Serduszko!” she shouted, standing back up. She’d called me that hundreds of times, but I don’t think I’d ever heard it with such ferocity. “Would you care to explain why you’re going about town, looking like…that!? I don’t care what you do at home, but out there, someone could hurt you.” she said through sobs.

“It’s not his fault Mom.” Ela said, rushing to my defense. She explained how this all started, trying to put the blame on herself, but I wouldn’t let her take all the heat. For the first time in a few days, I told an adult the entire truth. My thoughts, my motivations, my actions, all of it. Even the kiss. “So you see, Mom, it’s just the circumstances that got us here.” Ela said, wrapping up our story.

“Circumstances? I don’t see any circumstances. Where is the gun to your head? Where is the coercion? Every decision you’ve made, Marion, has been your own. You thought every option you chose was the best. That’s why you chose it. Now you have to live with that. As much as I can feel like it, I’m not your mother. You’re going to have to live with those decisions, at least until Nancy gets back. Then, she can decide what’s best for you. At least I can take solace that you’re pretty. It will definitely make it easier for you. I love you, and I just want you to be happy with who you are, but I can’t say I’m not worried. The Nazis rounded up people like you first, and they were never heard from again. People here like to act like that could never happen again, but I’ve seen it. I know that all it takes is a few evil men, and a city of fearful people.” She placed her hand on my cheek and said, “Just be careful, Serduszko. If this is who you are, then I’d suggest that from here on out you conduct yourself as nothing less than a proper young lady. We don’t want some little boy discovering anything he shouldn’t find. I couldn’t imagine losing you.” Magda started to tear up again, and then rushed to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. I quickly followed suit, and went to my room crying, slamming the door behind me, leaving Ela standing dumbfounded. For the second night in a row, I went without dinner. At least my waist cincher wasn’t as tight.

The next morning, guilt-ridden, I was sitting at Ela’s Vanity, while she performed her magic, covering the under-eye bags that come from a night of weeping. Always the miracle worker, she hid my exhaustion well, and I was back to my pretty, polished self. After getting dressed, I opted to skip breakfast, bogged down by the weight of everything. However, just as we were gathering our purses and school bags, I noticed a small sewing kit set on top of a neatly folded apron, with a note pinned to it. It read, “You’ll need this for Home Ec.” with a little heart at the bottom. The relief I felt was indescribable. I still didn’t know how things were going to shake out, but at that point I at least knew that Magda wasn’t going to be mad at me forever.

Over the next couple of days, school went by without anything of note. One thing I did notice was how much nicer people treated me. It turns out Eileen was right. Being attractive gets you a lot further socially than I’d ever been, and I wasn’t even trying. The attention was actually pretty nice. One problem though, was that I didn’t know how to dissuade any unwanted male attention, but fortunately for me, I had Ela. She was downright ferocious when it came to protecting my “virtue” which seemed to be her euphemism of choice. Each night that week dinner was a little closer to something resembling normal. That second night back from school, I was about to change back into my boy clothes, when Magda insisted I wear what I was wearing until after we finished eating, as there was no point in creating more laundry. From then on, my skirts became just another standard part of the scenery.

Thursday evening, the phone rang during our meal. Tensions might have calmed down, but I still knew better than to get up to answer it while we were eating. Magda left the table, to answer the call. I could only hear half of the conversation.

“Hello…No she can’t. We’re sitting down for dinner right now…I see…yes…Well, thank you for asking me first. That’s very respectful…That’s fine with me, as long as you have her back by curfew, and you leave me your parent’s telephone number…Okay dear…I’ll have her call you after. Goodbye.”

“Does Ela have a date?” I asked, smirking across the table.

“No, you do…if you call him back and accept anyway.” Magda said, nonchalantly.

I nearly spit my drink out. “Wait…was that Andy?”

“Yes it was. He was very polite. I approve for now…Just make sure you’re home on time, or I’ll make sure your mother grounds you until you’re thirty.”

I was floored. A week ago I was living my life as any other American boy, but somehow, in the blink of an eye. I was a sweet young girl being courted by the rich boy from across the tracks. I returned Andy’s call after dinner, only agreeing to the date, after making him beg, just a little. I figured, at the very least, I might as well get one more wonderful night on the town before everything came crashing down around me.

Saturday night, I was dressed in a simple blue sheath over a white blouse with a jabot collar. I was stepping into my black court shoes, when there was a knock at the door. I was about to answer it when Ela stopped me, saying, “Mom’s gotta give him her spiel, plus it’s a chance for you to learn how to make an entrance.” While I eavesdropped she added one final touch to my look, a little blue bow, pinned to the side of my bouffant hairdo.

Through the door, I could hear a muffled lecture, with a few key words like “gentleman” and “intentions” standing out. It was hard for me to make out everything through Magda’s accent though. When there was what I could best approximate as an optimal silence, I seized the opportunity. I stood up, smoothed my skirt, and stepped through the door.

Andy greeted me warmly. “Hey there, Marion. You look lovely this evening.” He was quite handsome in his tie and sport coat. I could tell he was definitely wound a little tighter than usual on account of Magda’s extreme scrutiny. After gathering my belongings, and suffering through one more long winded reminder about curfew, we stepped out to the street, where parked on the side of the road was his dad’s red Chevy. He opened the door for me, just like a gentleman, and held it until I swung my feet into the vehicle. We wound up spending the entire night in that thing.

Our first stop was a drive-in restaurant, where I was far too nervous to really eat much anyway. I really only ate my fries. Kids back then were all motor culture, and this place was particularly noisy, so we didn’t really get to talk too much. Andy had to pull out extremely slowly just to avoid hitting one of the dozen car hops zipping around on their roller skates. It was a relief when we finally made it about the parking lot. The rest of the night was to be spent at the drive-in theater down by the water. We arrived about thirty minutes early, so after we found our space, and hooked up our speaker box, we had nothing to do but talk until the movie started. Back then, the front seat was just that, one seat. There was nothing between me and him. I think he could tell I was nervous, and he really didn’t want to come off as fresh. The tension was palpable, so I took it upon myself to break the silence.

“Thanks so much for taking me out tonight, Andy. I hope Magda wasn’t too much. She means well.”

“No no no.” he replied, waving his hands. “She was fine. It must be crazy for you, and Ela though; having two moms in the house and all.”

“It can be a bit much sometimes, but the laundry is always done, and we always eat our vegetables.” I joked, taking the opportunity to scoot a little closer to him. “What’s this flick anyway?”

“It’s called Creature with an Atom Brain. I know you like science fiction so this seemed like the obvious choice.” It sounded interesting enough. It’d been over a year since I’d been to the pictures, so this was a milestone for me. Now, I’ll admit that by today’s standards that film would be considered pretty corny, but in the opening scene, when that robot zombie shows up at the mansion and kills that man, I nearly peed my panties. Just as the zombie was about to grab him, I jumped and covered my hands with my eyes. That’s when I noticed Andy had wrapped his arm around me, and was pulling me closer to the “safety” of his chest. He was a huge nerd, but he could be pretty smooth when he tried. That’s as far as he went, remaining the picture of a gentleman. As I grew more comfortable, my attention was less on the movie, and more on the young man to my left. I let my head rest on his shoulder, and let my mind wander. How far could this actually go? It had to end eventually, I thought, but I didn’t want it to.

At ten fifteen sharp we were parked on the curb outside my apartment. Andy had already zipped around the car, and opened my door. I took his hand, welcoming the help to step up onto the elevated sidewalk. There we locked eyes, and for the two of us, the world stopped turning. He was so nervous a little sweat had collected on his brow. “Marion, I gotta say, I just think you’re the keenest. I want you to be my girl. Will you wear my ring?” He fumbled through his pockets and pulled out his class ring, with a thin pretty chain looped through.

“You want me to be your steady?” I asked, swept up in the moment. He just nodded his head hopefully. A few days prior, I had thought that I wanted this all to be over, but in that exact moment, none of that mattered anymore. I had made a full one eighty and now, I never wanted it to end. This boy made me happy. In a way that had been drilled into my head that he wasn’t supposed to, but he did, and I didn’t care. I gushed, “Yes!” and took the ring from him, looping the chain around my neck and wrapping my arms around his. I planted a big wet one, half on his lips, and half on his cheek, leaving a big red print.

“That’s just swell, Marion.” he beamed, pulling me in tightly. We kissed full on the mouth one more time before he shooed me off, trying to stay in Magda’s good graces. I hurried up the stairs, and opened the door to the dark apartment, swooning over the hunky dreamboat who I could now officially call my boyfriend. For a brief moment I didn’t have a care in the world. I went to set my purse on the table, but completely missed, dumping it, and its contents all over my living room floor because as soon as I turned my head, there was my mother sitting on the couch, quietly waiting for me.

"You really do look lovely, honey." She said, as though everything was normal, though I could sense her anxiety in her voice.

"Th…thanks…Mom…" I sputtered. "You're back early."

"I am. We have a lot to discuss."

"I know, Mom. I'm so sorry about all of this." I cried, as tears welled up in my eyes.

"It's okay, baby. You don't have anything to be sorry for." she said, beginning to cry herself. She rushed from her seat and pulled me deep into the kind of comforting hug that only your mother can give. Then she placed her hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. "Magda told me what you’ve been up to when I called earlier this week. This is how it's going to be from now on, I take it?"

"I don't know, Mom. I don't really see a way out of this without switching schools." I mumbled through deep sobbing breaths.

"I see. Is that what you want to do?" she asked, fingering the little trinket now wrapped around my neck. "It looks to me like someone besides the school is expecting to see my daughter again sometime soon. I hope he's a good boy."

Then and there I truly hit my breaking point. Bawling, I wailed, "I'm so disgusting! I don't want to be like this, but it's now more apparent than ever that I'll only ever be a fairy! Dad was so repulsed by me that he killed himself, and he tried to take me with him! Seriously Mom, he crashed the car on purpose!" Just then, I collapsed on the floor in front of my mom. I could see she was just as torn up as I was. She kneeled down, and pulled me tight into her bosom, and stroked my hair, while my tears stained the bodice of her dress.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marion?”

“I dropped the furniture we were supposed to be delivering, because I’m such a weak sissy. Dad was going to get fired because of me. Seriously, he said, fuck it all, and then flipped his truck on purpose.”

My mother gently placed her hands on my cheeks, and forced me to look into her eyes. “Oh you poor thing. I’m so so very sorry I haven’t done a great job protecting you from him. Calm down, baby. I need you to take a few deep breaths, and listen to me.” I rubbed the snot from my nose onto my crisp white blouse sleeve, and tried my best to pull myself together. She continued, “You didn’t make him do that. Do you understand? I need you to understand. You did not make him do that. Your father killed himself because he was an angry, miserable, little man who couldn’t take responsibility for his own failures, and he tried to kill you to punish me. He didn’t care about anybody but himself.”

At this point, I’d managed to stop sobbing. I tried to regain my composure, “I don’t understand. Why did he want to punish you?”

Mom took a deep breath, and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, sorting out what she wanted to say. “Honey, look…It’s time I was honest with you…I never loved your father…When we met, I was young. There are a lot of expectations on us girls when it comes to our desires. I was supposed to meet a boy, and fall in love, then get married and make babies, like any other good Catholic girl. The thing is…um…I’ve never really been attracted to a man. I’ve definitely never loved one. I had been spending a lot of time with one of my schoolmates. They called it a romantic friendship at the time. Nobody really paid us any mind, but once I was grown, there were expectations, so I decided that one man was probably just as good as the next.”

“Okay…” I was puzzled. “I still don’t understand.”

“I married your father to check a box. A lot of folks from the stage share my proclivities. It’s common for people like us to marry for safety, and to have our true life on the side. My mistake was deciding Micky Ryan was the best I could do. It was a mistake, but a mistake I’d make all over again, because it gave me my two beautiful children. There’s nothing wrong with you honey…you’re beautiful…you’re just..like me…sort of…Marion, the day before the wreck, your father saw me kissing another woman…Magda…He was irate. We got into a horrible fight. He hit me again. That was enough for me though. I told him I wanted a divorce. He said he’d have me locked up in the asylum so I told him I’d let every two-bit thug who he owed anything to just exactly where to find him. He stormed out in a rage, and that was the last time we spoke.”

I could tell it was almost impossible for her to get those words out, but once she did, there was a peace in her expression that I’m not sure if I’d ever seen before. “Wow.” I whispered, more to myself than her. I guess that story about her grandpa’s hair was true. “That’s a lot, Mom.”

“I know. If there’s anybody left to blame, it’s me. I’m so sorry.” Now she was crying, and it was my turn to comfort her.

“It’s not your fault, Mom. You were trying to make the best of a bad situation.”

“You’re so sweet, Dear, but the one person I’m completely sure is innocent in all of this, is you. Your father was too stupid of a man to ever really understand just how beautiful and special you are. I’m so happy that you’re my child. I’d give up the whole world for you.” After all that, we held ourselves in each other’s arms for a while.

Once the tears stopped, we pulled ourselves together, and I asked, “So…Magda, huh?” I didn’t see it coming, but suddenly so many things made sense.

“We’ve been secretly together since not too long after they moved here. Girls like us, don’t really advertise for obvious reasons, but still, we just know somehow. At least sometimes. I love her very much.”

“Does Ela know?”

“She might have already. I’m not sure to be honest.She and Magda went out for a walk to give us some privacy. They are probably having a very similar talk as we speak, so she’ll definitely know before they get back. You are both old enough now, and we didn’t want to lie to you anymore…especially given your new circumstances. If you’re a girl, then that’s fine by me. If not, that’s okay too. I just need you to know I’m going to love you no matter what. So…is this who you are?”

I took a minute to think about my response, and after careful consideration, I said, “If you’d have asked me yesterday, I would have denied it until I was blue in the face, but after my date, I can’t pretend this isn’t me anymore. It’s the most comfortable I’ve ever felt in my own skin. Being a girl comes so naturally to me. On top of all that, Andy is stirring up feelings in me that I didn’t know I could have. He makes me feel pretty, and I like that.”

“I understand that. Magda makes me feel pretty. I’ve known some girls like you in my day. It’s not as strange as you’d think.”

“Really?!” I couldn’t believe it. I was positive there was some special circle of hell that was being carved out just for me, but here was my mother, telling me she’d personally known that there were at least a few others like myself out there somewhere.

“Absolutely. There are places people like us go to meet up all over the city. It’s a little dangerous on account of the police raids, but some people think taking the risk is better than being alone. Girls like you would often come. A lot of them could only be themselves on the weekend when the city is dark, but there’s a select few who get to be themselves all the time. The pretty ones. It’s a privilege I thank god you have. You know, Magda even dated a boy like you back in Poland. He was raised to be a seamstress, and from what I understand, when she last saw him, he was one of the best tailors in Warsaw. You could live like that too, but you have to be very careful. If that’s the life you want, I’ll support you. There’s a lot to discuss. We can talk about it later. Right now, I’m just so happy to see you.”

“You’re right. We’ve so much to catch up on. How was your trip? Tell me everything.”

“Funny you should mention that. I’ve got great news…”

Epilogue

That following Monday, I was back at school with a brand new pep in my step. I was one of the new cheerleaders after all. There wasn’t really a higher rung on the social ladder in high school, so for a girl my age, I was on top of the world. Still, I was playfully chastised as a traitor for carrying around the class ring of a boy from a rival school. It would have been hard to find a better boyfriend than Andy. He respected me, and never had a cross word to say. On top of all that, he was pure enough to never go pawing around and accidentally discover my little secret.

I was fortunate enough to go to game seven of the world series with the Barclay family in Yankee Stadium. If it were any other game, it wouldn’t have been as exciting, but the Dodgers had never beaten the Yankees in a world series before. Even though no runs were scored after the fourth, the tension in the air was palpable through all nine innings. Our boys brought it home though. I don’t think there was ever a more joyous occasion back in Williamsburg. The streets were flooded with the pious and the profane, hoodlums and lawmen, the wealthy and the poor. It didn’t matter. On that day we were all proud to be from Brooklyn.

My brother Marvin came home for Thanksgiving. I assume he and Mom had discussed the change because he didn’t seem too surprised when I welcomed him at the door. He just smiled, said he liked my dress, and gave me a big bear hug, and a peck on the cheek. Later that week, when he met Andy, I thought he was going to break his hand, he shook it so hard. I guess he figured he had to play the dad, since ours was gone. He didn’t realize that poor Andy had already been adequately terrified by Magda.

My mother’s good news turned out to be a job offer from the Walt Disney Company. They wanted her to move to Anaheim and work full time at the new park. After discussing it with Magda, they decided to take the offer. It was an opportunity for a fresh start. We’d be moving after the school year finished so Mom could wrap up her run with Peter Pan. That Christmas, they flew the four of us out for an all expenses paid trip to Disneyland, as promised. It was magical from the moment we got to the airport. Ela and I felt so grown up in our suits, and smart little hats. Four days of fun, then we had to head back for what would sadly be my last five months in Brooklyn.

The rest of the school year was a lot of fun though. Eileen and I became even closer, spending much of our time together as cheerleaders. We still keep in touch today. She’s still a bit crazy. Funny enough, Archie and Ela broke up almost as soon as they got together. He was a sweet guy, but he definitely wasn’t quick enough on the draw for her. They remained cordial whenever we’d spend time with his sister. He wasn’t a bad guy. Last I’d heard, he’s been married a while, and has already started his own litter.

Ela; my best friend, my teacher, my sister. Without her, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today, and for that alone, I’ll love her till the day I die. I’ll never be blessed with children like she is, but I’m perfectly content being fun Aunt Marion. After all, I get to spoil them rotten, and I never have to deal with the consequences.

I had become very attached to Andy; puppy love as they call it. He was the first person to truly make me feel beautiful; inside and out. I adored his family. His mother was always a fun mischievous coconspirator to me. She’d get me to chastise him into cleaning his room, and the like. I know she was fond of me as well. She alone was responsible for at least half the new wardrobe I took with me to California.

On that last day in the city, with my belongings strapped into the back of a moving truck, I stood on the sidewalk, looking deep into Andy’s big brown eyes, tears pooling in mine. I’d never had to say goodbye like that before. I tried to give back his ring, but he told me to keep it. He said, “You’re always going to be my high school sweetheart. That will never change.” We wrote to each other for a few months after, but when he left for college, that was that. We lost touch. In my many years since then, I’ve learned that kind of thing happens a lot.

In LA, I could begin again. For the first time, In the borough, I couldn’t walk around without the lingering fear in the back of my mind that someone was going to recognize me as the lithe effeminate boy who had lived there years before. That wasn’t a problem anymore. Mom and Magda had a fresh start as well. I know they were excited to finally get rid of those twin beds. LA wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely ahead of the curve for the time, when it came to people like us. Most folks were content to just not ask questions. Plus, there was a community to be found, and find them, we did. The sheer volume of queer folk in California was mind boggling to me, but I quickly acclimated, and then one day, it wasn’t that strange at all anymore. It was just life.

Through the community, I learned how to find men who appreciated girls like me. As I got older, it was harder and harder to date without my suitor expecting it to go further than I could allow. As gorgeous as I was, people found it strange that I never settled down. Mom, in her infinite support, spent a lot of money on me. Pills, and surgeries kept me from never tipping over into the overtly masculine, but there was little to be done about my privates. It’d be a few decades before that was a realistic option for me. Fortunately, that was never something I had to worry about. I met Roger in 1966; ten years, almost to the day since I left Brooklyn. I’d seen him around the club many an evening, never overtly leering, but his attention was definitely mine and mine alone. One night, he finally got up the courage to buy me a drink, and we’ve pretty much been together since. I just had to learn to live with the fact that he’s a California Angels fan. Fortunately, my Dodgers had followed me out west in fifty-eight so I had backup.

In my recent years, I’ve learned to forgive my father, more for me than for him. It’s not an excuse, but I know the man was in a lot of pain. I was too. Those days are long gone though. I’ve been blessed with about as good of a life as a girl like me could expect in those days. Through my journey, I’ve connected with so many wonderful people, and they’ve each helped me find a little piece of myself, but it all started with the love of sweet Andy Barclay. Don’t get me wrong. I’m lucky to have Roger, but I’ll always be grateful to my high school sweetheart.

The End

Author’s notes:

Thanks for making it to the end of my story. My goal was to write a piece of transgender fiction free of any anachronisms. As a transgender, hipster-trash, millennial, theater kid raised on Nick at Nite, and TV Land, I was pretty familiar with the fashions, and lingo of the time period, but I definitely underestimated the amount of research I was going to have to do for this little project. Vintage beauty routines, the history of NYC public transportation, cultural demographics for Brooklyn in the 1950s, and the history of various queer communities throughout the last 100 years, just to name a few of the topics I dug into. The thing that was definitely the toughest was all the baseball stuff. I’m the opposite of a sports person. Let me just say, I have a new respect for the folks who catalog all of those statistics. I can officially say that I know more about the sport now than I ever thought I could. I’m surprised it all didn’t just pour out of my ear once I finished. It did inspire me to want to go to a minor league game this summer. It looks fun, even if I don’t really care about the game itself. Maybe I’ll get swept up in it. From all I’ve read, people seem to.

This story is loosely based on my time spent trapped in bed after I was hit by a car back before my transition, and what I’d wish would have happened. That said, I’m grateful I’m a woman today, and not one back then. I like having my own bank account after all. Marion isn’t a self insert character though. Maybe in physical proportions, but I’m not at all Irish, and she’s so much sweeter. If anything, I think I’m more of an Eileen. I grew up Anglican, and I’m definitely a little nuts, and I’m extremely bossy. Just dark haired. This has been a lot of fun. I’m glad to be writing again. Expect some rereleases of my old stuff soon, as well as a premium project coming down the pipeline. I write pretty slowly, but be looking for something new from me in a few months. Again, thanks for reading my story. All the positive comments have warmed my heart.

Best wishes

-Lauren Bliss