A Field trip

By Lynda Shermer

Chapter 5 - Summer Break With the Past

School being out, the world should have slowed down, it seemed to me. In actual fact, of course, it did no such thing.

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The morning of my birthday dawned bright and seasonably warm. My mom wished me a happy birthday, and made waffles. I had just finished them when the doorbell rang.

To my surprise, it was Sally; I'd never had her over to my place before (after all, she was Barb's friend, and Barb didn't live here, as far as my mom was concerned), but I guess she'd gathered enough info to find it. She had a big box with her. I introduced her to my mother as a friend from school, and excused myself. I took her to my room (my mother had warned me of the dire consequences of misbehaving with girls in my room, and I'd never given her cause to carry out her threats. I was sure she'd check on me, but should be cool with Sally's presence.)

So, after being sure the door was ajar as required, I unwrapped the package; inside, on a styrofoam head, was the wig that the lady in the shop had originally recommended. Seeing that, I hastily closed the door and secured it.

Sally said, "The lady, when I showed her your picture in the yearbook, said the original wig was a product of a series of errors and irreproducible, and gave me a discount on this one, which she said she'd promised you."

I looked at the new hair with doubt. Mom was just down the hall, but she did trust my behaviour, generally. Maybe just this once?

"Well, my therapist did ask to see Barb when I go back next week..." I was tempted.

"See? There's a demand for her to return. Want to see how she's changed since you saw her last?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have to keep a close watch on teenaged girls; they can change overnight. You might not recognize her, now that she has a girlfriend to consult on her style!"

Thinking about it, I let my curiosity get the better of my judgement, but first sent Sally off to distract mom while I showered and shaved. Fortunately, not too much hair had grown since the spring dance. My chest was still hairless, my chin less so, and I did my legs and arms, for good measure.

Redressing in my regular clothes, I returned to Sally. Back in my room, she'd started to set up. I motioned her to hold off, and sure enough, Mom stuck her head in, asking if we wanted anything at the store. We said no, and she left to do her grocery shopping.

"There. Now we should have at least 45 minutes. It always takes her longer than she thinks it will," I told Sally.

"And she trusts you here, in your room, with a girl?"

"It's never happened before; she's told me how she expects me to behave and what the penalties would be if I don't, though."

So I put myself in Sally's enthusiastic hands. She'd brought a bunch of beauty products with her in her backpack, having been certain that she could beat down any resistance I might put up, and, after setting up my desk lamp and moving my monitor to make room for her supplies, went to work.

First, she cleansed and moisturized my face. "Somehow, boys never seem to get taught skin care; they just wash their faces with soap and water and rub them dry with towels. Like anyone over the age of five gets like, mud, on their face that can be dealt with like that. Your skin's worst problems come from your skin, itself; all that peeling and patches of dryness. Its second worst problem comes from the stuff you clean it with. Skin care is much more complicated than merely washing for face," she informed me.

Then we got into the artistic preparations. Here, there were tricks I'd found on the internet that were not anything she'd ever needed, so I had to show her those.

I mentioned how I used an orange lipstick to color correct my chin and mustache area, and showed it to her. She had me apply that and the glue stick I used to flatten my eyebrows myself. Both were tricks I'd gotten off YouTube and the web. Then she selected a foundation color for me (something I'd always has trouble doing myself), which I applied heavily.

Once my face was an even colored blank, Sally took over. Looking me over in the light, she applied some contour to my cheeks and my nose, did my eye makeup, and finished it off with some lip lining, lipstick, and gloss.

I was sitting there, shirtless, so she also applied some contouring to my chest. I put my bra on. She put the little silicone pads I'd used in the bra, backed up, looked me over, and (shaking her head), said "Nope. Barb has developed a little since then."

She then took what looked like the same two larger pads I'd worn to the dance out of her backpack and started to position them.

"I've been meaning to ask you, where did those come from?," I said, curious.

"Secrets of girlhood. Some of us develop later than others, and we don't like it... Let's just say I knew they'd work and say no more about it."

Then she handed me the wig. It was the same color as my hair, mostly, but did have some lighter streaks in it. I pulled it on, adjusting it by feel; a lot more hair than Barb used to have, but still familiar. Some bobby pins to secure it.

Then Sally brought me my clothes from where I'd set them out before we'd started, with the dress from the dance. I sat down to put on my pantyhose and shoes.

And when I turned back to the mirror, my jaw dropped...

There was an entirely non-gawky and non-horsefaced girl looking back at me, in shock. Oh, and Sally, too.

At that moment, I heard the front door, and my mom called out, "You and your friend come and help me put the groceries away."

My resolve was formed in an instant; enough with being depressed; I'd to go for it. I replied, "Mom, I have something to show you, and you may not like it..."

"What? I swear you get more melodramatic every month..."

Sally looked like she wanted to hide under the furniture, seeing the gleam in my eye, and clearly not sure this move was the best idea.

But I was certain it was, and with that, I grabbed Sally's resistant hand, and dragged her down the hall with me to the entry way.

"Mom, my name is Barb and this is my girlfriend, Sally..." I introduced myself to my mother.

Mom looked me over, and then dropped into a handy armchair. "Well, that certainly explains the girls uniform and jacket in your closet and the odd note I got from Mrs. Phelps. So this is what you've been up to; Oh, honey, I've been so worried about you."

"I think things will get better from here. Wait; you found the uniform?"

"Yes, dear; the day after you brought it home from the resale shop, I think. You aren't nearly as good at hiding things as you think you are. Sally, I'm glad to meet you; I think I may have met your mother at PTA."

And with that, she stood up and hugged me, tears on her face. I found I was crying, too, for some reason.

"I'll miss my son, but I'll always love my child, and I'm very relieved to finally have some idea what's going on," she told me.

With that, she got a mischievous look in her eyes, "You know, you are my child, and I named you at birth. I wouldn't have called you Barbara, though," she said to me.

"Well, it started out as the first thing I could come up with, thinking about the texture of my wig. I suppose it's no longer appropriate, though. What would you name me?"

"Margaret. It has a lot of nicknames you can use, but the one with the most history in our family is Peggy."

I considered it; I'd be going back to the end of the alphabet where I'd started, anyway; a new first name didn't make that much difference...

"Peggy Walsh; Cool; I can live with that," I said.

And then mom said, "Sally, please look after my daughter; she's brilliant but a bit naive, not nearly as sneaky or clever as she thinks she is, and has much to learn."

And with that, I changed into my casual Saturday outfit. Assuring mom we'd be careful, Sally and I left to go clothes shopping. Mom gave me careful once over and pronounced her satisfied with my outfit, and gave us a few strictures on what to buy. Then reluctantly she let us go off in public.

We caught the bus; out of a sense of loyalty, we decided to start in back in Andersonville.

On the way, We discussed the minimum that Peggy needed for the summer, above what Barb had provided her with when she'd departed.

The bus made its familiar way through the city until, quickly enough, we found ourselves there soon enough. Getting off the bus, ahead lay the same wig salon that been so important in forming Barb's look (as well as, now, Peggy's). And in front of the shop, holding a package and looking nervous, was a familiar face.

"Hello, Doug, how's your vacation starting?" Sally asked.

Doug started, looked mildly embarrassed. Then he looked again, at me.

"Barb, is that you? You look fantastic!" he exclaimed.

"Thanks, Doug. It's Peggy, now. But it's all thanks to these shops and Sally here." And then, under my normal tone, I continued, "And with their help, you should be fine, too."

He colored. Sally picked up the conversational slack, "Want to get lunch? There must be someplace reasonable around here. Meet us here once you are done in there?"

We hit the lingerie shop first. I needed more underwear, so I picked up packs of plain panties, and sports bras. They did seem a little...mundane, to me. Almost boring.

But then we got to more traditional bras. The band size, ok, that's just a tape measure, but the cup size... How to estimate something that doesn't exist? Time to consult an expert. We did give some guidance: "She's a late bloomer. For next year in school, she should be the same size as me."

"Judging by those shoulders, may I suggest she should be a little larger? Nothing extreme," The clerk hastened to add, "But she will be more balanced that way." Clearly, the lady had done this sort of thing before.

Going into the fitting booth, she handed me another hanger, "And if I may suggest THIS under your panties may help them fit better?"

A lightly padded gaff. Under my panties, it helped my hips and rump curve more naturalistically, and took the place of the maxi-pad I wore to smooth things out in front. Perfect. And then I donned the bra.

She came back to show me how to adjust the straps. Finally, I put my jeans and shirt back on. There, in the mirror, was a perfectly healthy high school girl. Sally came up behind me, and I couldn't help but feel I'd arrived at last. Craning her neck to reach the side of my face from behind, she kissed me on the cheek.

I turned, and with her in front of me, bussed her properly, dead on the lips...

"Oh, my," she exclaimed.

Pausing to recover her breath, Sally then turned and whispered something to the clerk, who nodded and pointed off to one side. Sally went off, while I looked at sleepshirts, wanting something that expressed my personality.

When Sally came back, she held something behind her back. "You know, we took care of Dave's birthday earlier, but it's Peggy's birthday, too. I guess the two of you are twins, huh? I'd like to also give her a present, if I may."

"Actually, I might consider the date of the field trip as my birthday... Besides, you did give me a present; it's an integral part of what differentiates me from Dave," I said, pointing at my hair.

"Shut up and take your present," Sally said.

And with that she pulled out a lacy black bra and panty set, complete with garter belt.

"Wow. And you want to see me wearing them?," I asked, eagerly.

"Yes," she said "And eventually, not wearing them," she added quietly.

I blushed and, for a change, my makeup wasn't so heavy as to render it invisible...

While they were boxing everything up, the door opened, and in came a girl with her brown hair in a shoulder length pageboy, wearing cute round glasses. Admittedly, the effect was ruined by the clothes Doug hadn't had a chance to replace yet, but I have to say, she was cute.

"And you would be?," Sally asked.

"Denise, I think," she replied.

"Not bad, but not many nickname possibilities. Maybe Dee, though..," she said thoughtfully.

Denise had to consult with the clerk about sizes. We decided she should be the same cup size as me, though, to cut down on envy.

A side trip to another store to get her outfitted for a summer outfit later, we consulted our phones for a place to eat.

We settled on a nearby Subway franchise; I was skirting the edge of my mother's "No fast food" policy, there, but thought it was worth it this once. I could at least have them make my sandwich with spinach.

Sitting down, I took out my phone and sent a selfie, labelled "Peggy, Sally, and Denise at lunch" to Mrs. Phelps.

My phone dinged a reply almost immediately, "Peggy, it is good to meet you, you look very nice and together, dear. I must say, Denise comes as a bit of a surprise; I thought it would be a bit longer before we saw her; you've done a good deed, there. Dare I hope to see all three of you working on the fall play next year? We might be doing "Twelfth night"; meanwhile, enjoy your summer."

"Oh, what was in the parcel, by the way," Sally asked Denise.

"Actually, Barb's old wig," was her reply.

"Can I borrow that? My therapist asked to see Barb next session," I asked, immediately thinking of something amusing I could do with that wig.

"Oh, are you seeing Dr. Wilson, too? I have my first session next week," Denise told me.

Perfect; "Yes, I started just before the end of the school year," and I left it at that.

---

 

So, for might be the last time, I donned my Barb disguise, but I packed Peggy's outfit in my backpack. Seeing Barb for the first time, my mother hugged me again. So this is Barb? I'm glad you've outgrown your awkward phase so quickly, Peggy!"

At Dr. Wilson's, I signed in as Barb, giving the time of my appointment, so there would be no confusion.

The receptionist must have had this experience before; she was careful to use the name I signed in under when my time came, instead of "Dave Walsh", which the appointment was under.

When the name was called, I picked up my backpack and went into the office, choosing the same armchair as last session so as not to play with Dr. Wilson's head more than necessary.

As she entered, she stopped, and I caught her looking me over with a critical eye. "Wow. That's something! You weren't kidding when you said you were aggressively going for being not noticed. Are those braces you're wearing?"

"As I told you, made from paperclips and miscellaneous hardware, to distract attention. And they worked, too. Only three people ever paid particular attention to me this way."

"Three?" she asked.

"Sally, Mrs. Phelps, and Denise. You'll meet Denise later today," I told her.

"I will? I don't recall anyone on today's schedule by that name, and you didn't mention them last time... Mrs. Phelps warned me about you, and I can see she was right."

"Oh?"

"Yes; that you were clever, and developing quickly."

"Oh. Ask Denise about the theatre; you'll like it," I told her.

And then we discussed Barb's limited personal history; it was the same things I'd told her last time, just from a different perspective, apart from details like where I'd changed and where I'd shopped, which somehow seemed more relevant this time around. I kept one eye on my watch, though. When we were down to 10 minutes, I asked her if she minded me changing in her washroom. She looked understanding, and said it was fine.

I ducked in there, and quickly changed from Barb in my school uniform into Peggy in her casual clothes. Exiting, I told the doc, "See you in two weeks; I shouldn't have to change then, so we'll have more time."

Looking at me, she said, "Wait a second, I thought you meant change back to Dave; Barb?"

"Actually, my mother named me 'Margaret', but most people call me Peggy."

"Oh, dear; I'm not licensed for serious illness like dissociative personality disorder, you know," she said. I was pretty sure she was kidding, but thought best to explicitly make things clear.

"Don't worry about that; Barb was making a special encore appearance; I'm who you'll have to deal with from now on," I told her.

"I can see you're going to be challenging to keep up with. Already, I'll have to change your records; It's nice to meet you, Peggy. I'll look forward to our next session."

So I exited the office through the waiting room. Along the way, I saw Denise, who had the next appointment. "Hi, Denise. We still on for the Art Institute Van Gogh exhibit this weekend?"

"Yes. You'll remind Sally, won't you?"

"Certainly, when I see her later; I think she's got the tickets already. She wants to hear how it went with the doctor anyway."

"Ah; And how did it go, for you?"

"Very nicely; she's seems like a good person. You can give me your review on the weekend. Oh, and she's probably going to ask you about the night of the dance."

"Of course; it's sort of the center piece of my tale, when you left me for another girl."

"I'm so glad you seem fine with that. Ok, see you on Saturday," and I hugged her goodnight, and left.