Steps along the road.
A fantasy by Johnny Cumlately
The small chapel in the crematorium was nearly full except for the first pew which had been kept of close family. Just before 11 o’clock, Janet’s twin sister Ann came and sat in it with her husband Matthew and their two children. The coffin had already been placed on its plinth. A few moments later, the Minister entered though a side door.
“My friends, we have met here today to celebrate the life and passing of Janet, er.. Stephen. I expect that most of you will have known her as Janet, but some of you with longer memories will be remembering Stephen. Let us start with a short prayer ........”
After singing the hymn “The day thou gavest, Lord, is ended” the Minister invited Matthew to say a few words. Matthew was, thankfully, very brief and after another hymn, more prayers, the committal and blessing, the coffin slowly sank from sight and the mourners trooped across the road to the “Red Lion” where sandwiches had been arranged.
They were a very mixed lot but were soon exchanging recollections. John had been in school with Stephen and remembered him as being a bit of a loner but usually near the top of the class. He was also a very nimble fly half in the school Rugby team. Sue had been in college with Stephen and said that he got on well with all his fellow students but seemed most at ease in company with the girls. He spoke their language and they never felt that they were being chatted up.
Mark and Wendy had both helped Stephen when he gradually became Janet. Mark was a
psychologist and Wendy a nurse who helped look after Janet following her reassignment surgery.
Linda and Joyce were both more recent friends and had been very surprised by what they had just learned about Janet’s background. Neither had ever suspected that Janet was a transsexual. To them, she had just been a very good friend.
The one person who was not present was Aunt Agnes. Sadly, she had died a year previously at the ripe old age of 91.
......................................................
Well! They certainly gave me a good send-off!
The first time I could remember dressing in girl’s clothes was when we were about 12. Ann and I were very close, having lost our father some years previously in a motor accident. Mum had been left to bring us up alone which she did wonderfully until she died of cancer after a short illness. Fortunately for us, our maiden aunt, Agnes, took us both in and made a good home for us. It was inevitably a female household. In spite of her good intentions, Aunt Agnes had little idea how to care for a boy just reaching puberty.
It was Ann who first suggested that I might dress in some of her clothes when we were at home. Aunt Agnes was happy to go along with it as it would save her the embarrassment of buying boys’ things other than the bare essentials needed for school. And as for me, well, I just loved the look and feel of pretty dresses. I wore my hair as long as I could get away with at school and Ann would tie it in a short pony tail. She decided to call me Janet and said that she had always thought I should have been her twin sister. There was a lovely photograph of us two “girls” wearing identical dresses and similar hairdos. We must have been about 15 when the photograph was taken and I was very envious of Ann’s nicely developing bosom.
I did well as a boy at school but did not make friends easily. Most of the friends I had were girls from another school who were also friends of Ann and knew me at home as Janet. I was always asked to her parties and loved to wear party dresses. I managed to live two quite different lives. As I got a bit older, I wore a bra with modest false boobs, though I have no idea how I acquired them. I hadn’t really grown a beard and the few wisps of hair were easily camouflaged with foundation cream - applied under Ann’s careful supervision. When my voice broke I even managed to use a light falsetto when I was Janet.
Eventually, I (Stephen) won a scholarship to university and my time as Janet was limited to when I was at home during vacation. Most of my friends there were girls - I just seemed to have a natural empathy with them and they were happy to include me in girlie talk about boyfriends and fashions.
I got a degree in electronics and computing and then a job in a large company’s IT department where I was able to do a lot of work on program writing from home. I was still living with Aunt Agnes, so I naturally spent most of my time as Janet.
I eventually realised that I must make up my mind who I really wanted to be and the decision seemed obvious. I needed to make preparations for leaving Stephen behind. I was fortunate to find a similar job in another company which I applied for as Janet. I gave my notice to my previous employer but felt that I had to warn the personnel officer in confidence that he might receive a request for a reference for someone called Janet. I am pleased to say that he respected that confidence!
Buying the pills was the least of my problems. There were a number of shops on the web offering them - and many other related items - at exorbitant prices. I assumed the supply of pills was legal but they weren’t the sort you could just walk into a chemist to buy. Much more of a problem was that I actually funked swallowing one for quite a time. After all, it would lead to the most profound change that I could imagine. However, once I had popped the first pill I quickly became addicted - not in the purely physical sense but I was impatient to see results.
Eventually, after several months, I noticed that my nipples had become much more sensitive and had increased in size, but it was much longer until I had even a faint swelling of my breasts.
By now, I had been living as Janet for over 6 months and knew that I would need to see a psychiatrist and win his approval if I was to go further. That was when I first met Mark who was very friendly and helpful. He regarded me as a slightly unusual case in that I had never doubted my original gender. It was only when I went to live with Aunt Agnes that I pretended to be a girl and that was more for convenience than necessity. Obviously, being a twin had something to do with it and I had been greatly influenced by Ann. Few youngsters have the opportunity to try out both sexes and then later choose which they want to be!
After two meetings, Mark said he would be happy to recommend that I should eventually have reassignment surgery. In the meantime, I should consider being castrated. Loss of my balls would help with my hormonal balance and in due course my penis would shrink to resemble that of a young boy. I could then finally decide if I wanted the major surgery.
He arranged a visit to a local clinic for day surgery under a local anaesthetic and I watched fascinated as the doctor slit open my sack, removed my testicles and tied off the cords. Apart from soreness for a few days, there were no immediate after effects.
As my female characteristics continued to develop, I soon realised that I would not feel completely changed without the rest of the surgery which was, of course, a major operation and I was given an appointment in a hospital which had a specialist department dealing with gender problems.
Wendy was the first person I saw when I came round. “Hello, Janet, it’s all over now. Welcome to the sisterhood!” Post operative pain was considerable but Wendy helped me cope and in a short time I was up and about really enjoying my new status. She became a close friend. Friends who also knew Ann said that we were almost identical twins. Ann knew me as the sister she might never have had and regarded my sex change operation as just correcting a minor deformity.
Now I could wear a bikini without any unseemly bulge!
My social life as Janet was busy but I never developed any romantic attachments. I was completely happy with female company but was never tempted into a lesbian relationship. After Ann got married, I continued to live with Aunt Agnes and Linda and Joyce lived just around the corner. They became very close friends and we had several holidays together.
I led a full and happy life. I was good at my job and never short of funds. As Aunt Agnes grew old, I took my share of looking after her and when she died she left all her modest possessions to Ann and me. I was able to go on living in her house until I, too, was struck down by cancer and died after a mercifully short illness when I was 58. Too bad that I had been looking forward to a long retirement as a contented spinster.
Looking back, I had absolutely no regrets.
....................................................
I had one final problem with St Peter at the Pearly Gates.
“Name?”
“Janet”
“Just a minute. I was expecting Stephen. We seem to have an error in our system. It says you have been trying to outwit nature with the wrong gender. I’ll go and investigate.”
He left me waiting and wondering if I would be allowed in but soon returned.
“I’ve just called ‘The Other Place’ and they have no record of either Janet or Stephen so you must have a reasonably clean record and have not committed too many sins. We take a fairly strict view of entrants not being who they should be. But you were good to your aunt and I guess you didn’t harm anyone so I will open the gates for you. By the way, you’ll find Aunt Agnes on cloud 59.”
Fiction by Johnny Cumlately.
January 2009
Comments
Along the way
Cute story, JC, nicely written. Keep up the good work.
Nice little story
Kindly of St.Peter to let you in. We can all hope for the same.
Good writing.
Wendy Marie
Wendy Marie
Just one word -- Cool.
Just one word -- Cool. J-Lynn
Short and sweet, an infield
Short and sweet, an infield home run. Looking forward to your next "batter up."