Games without Frontiers - Preview Part 3

Once we were tired of the horses, the girls wanted to cool off in the ranch’s pool.

At first, I was reluctant to join them, but Andrea said my mother had prepared for this possibility, and had packed me a girl’s swimsuit that had been modified for my special circumstances.

Once I tried it on, I had the confidence to join the girls in the pool, a confidence I managed to retain even when the boys joined us.

I just kept swimming, as the cartoon says.

Eventually, we were tired, and all of us decided to go to the cafeteria and have supper together.

Once supper was over, Andrea offered to set up a campfire outside, where we could relax and roast marshmallows.

We all thought that was a good idea, and we sat around the fire, roasting marshmallows until the sun went down.

Finally, we started to go to our separate cabins, but a couple of the girls asked if they could sleep together in the main building, since they both struggled with nightmares.

Knowing my own tendency to have nightmares of my own, I asked to join them, and so Andrea helped us turn an area into a large communal bed, with sheets, pillows, and best of all, a stuffed animal for each of us.

Mine was a bear, dressed in pink armor, with a shield and a sword.

I decided to name her Pali - short for Paladin.

With my new friend in my arms, and the other girls laying next to me on either side, I managed to sleep without any bad dreams.

In the morning, we quickly got dressed and helped clean up our improvised “blanket fort” before everyone else came into the main building for breakfast.

Once breakfast was over, I decided to go to the library, and work on some stories I had started at home.

I was soon joined by one of the boys, whose name was Peter.

He grabbed a bunch of art supplies and began drawing.

After a while, he paused, and asked me what I was writing.

I said, “Well, have you heard of Shazam?”

“Sure.” He replied.

“Well, what if, when Billy Batson said his magic word, he became Mary Marvel instead?”

“He’d freak out. I know I would.” Peter said.

“I think so too.” I told him.

“So what happens next?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’m kind of stuck.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks. What are you working on?”

“Have you ever seen a flip book?”

“Sure. Can I see?”

He passed over the pages, and I saw that the first image was of a small boy being attacked by a giant tentacle monster. I went through the images, and the last one was of the boy, covered in sucker marks, crying.

“Whoa,” I said, “I think I can guess what this story represents.”

“Yeah, all us campers have that in common.” He replied, “But like you, I’m stuck on what happens next.”

“Well, like you just told me, you’ll figure it out.” I said.

He gave me a half-smile, and we went back to work.

Eventually, it was time for lunch, and Peter helped me put away my stuff and walked with me back to the cafeteria.

I smiled as we walked, and thought to myself that if we were warriors in training, I had found a comrade in arms.

And better yet, a friend.

That night, after Andrea had gotten the fire pit going, she pointed to a pile of sticks beside it, and said, “these you can call talking sticks. Basically, if anybody has anything they want to share, they can take one of these sticks, stand beside me, and tell their story. Once they are done, they can put the stick into the fire. I must remind you to respect each other, and what people say here should remain private unless the person wants it to be made public.”

I got up to speak, and thanked all the kids for accepting my transition, giving me hope for a future where I was a healed woman.

After a few of the others spoke, Peter got up, and talked about the frustrations of being a boy who had been abused. He said he had been envious of us girls for our being able to comfort each other, while boys like him were expected to just man up.

He paused, and then added he was also jealous of girls getting the choice to wear jeans or skirts as they wish, but if a boy like him wanted to wear a skirt, people would freak out.

I asked him, “Do you want to be a girl, like me?”

He shook his head, and said, “No, I just want to be able to be . . . delicate, sometimes. Maybe even pretty sometimes.”

Andrea went over and put her arm around Peter, and said, “I can promise you nobody will freak out at you. You’re safe here, to be whatever you want to be.”

All of us other kids got up, and we all agreed that we would keep Peter safe, no matter what he chose to wear.

I had never been so proud to be part of a group before.