Epilogue

“Hello Alison.”

What was it with plump women and oversized glasses? She looked even more like a baby owl than ever, albeit a very large one.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“Carrie Leach.”

“Oh fuck!”

“Relax. I’m only here to talk.”

“Yeah, that’s all you did last time and see where that got us.”

“I guess.”

“How come you don’t look like, you know, her?”

“You mean like this?” Carrie focused and she was back in the body of the redhead with the startling green eyes. She’d had a lot of time to practice and only needed to think what she wanted now.

Alison winced and looked pointedly out the window until Carrie switched back.

“Because this is the real me,” she said, “and I’d prefer to be my true self rather than an illusion, no matter how much of teenager’s wet dream she may be.”

“Not just a teenager’s,” Alison said. “I got horny just looking at you.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a compliment.”

“Well, you don’t look so bad as you are. I mean are you really the same person as that fat, ugly fucker who was boning my husband?”

“Guilty as charged. It’s amazing what a year of diet and exercise can do for you.”

“But you don’t even look like a man.”

“No, I’m guessing that would be more to do with the hormones than anything.”

“So what, you coerced a pharmacist into giving you a fuck load of oestrogen?”

“Didn’t have to. Turns out I can persuade my body to make its own, and to stop making testosterone.”

“You can do that?”

“Apparently so, and maybe a few other things too. Some bits of me have grown,” she indicated her modest pair of breasts, “other bits have shrunk.”

“You mean you still have your...?”

“It’s probably not much bigger than your clitoris, but yes. And my balls have shrunk back into me as well. I guess I’m still technical male, but I at least look like a woman. The different mix of hormones has softened my skin, redistributed my body fat in a rather agreeable manner, changed the way my hair grows. You know, all that.”

“Well it looks really good on you.”

“Thank you. I have to say, I like this Alison a lot more than the one I met last year.”

“Yes, well, I suppose it took having someone fuck up my life to make me realise just how much of a bitch I’ve been.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Alison staring with helpless misery at the cake on the table in front of her. Just as she was about to reach for it, Carrie interrupted her.

“Why did you do it?”

“Fuck with you like that when we were kids?” Alison shrugged. By itself it would have been the most infuriating response; to discover your life had been ruined on a whim, but she wasn’t finished. “I suppose it was being the pretty, popular girl in school,” she said.

“Yeah, I can see how that would really suck.”

“Can you though? Every guy staring at you with hungry eyes, like you’re a thing to be owned? Either that or you get pathetic, doe eyed worship and an inability to strong two words together. Meanwhile every girl is either a jealous bitch or a sycophantic cow. It doesn’t take long before you start to despise every one of them.”

“Was I ever like that with you?”

“A bit of the pathetic hero worship maybe, but I’m not sure it would have mattered by the time I met you. I already had a one size fits all mentality to the way I saw other people.

“You get to a point where you think you can get away with all sorts of shit, so you give it a try. Then every time you succeed, it just makes you want to try something worse.”

“Kind of like a drug.”

“Kind of exactly like a fucking drug.

“And Harvey?”

“Harvey was my male counterpart in the school. The most popular guy to go with my most popular girl. I don’t know if we ever really cared much for each other, but we shared a common view of humanity and by being together, it each kept the rest of the school population from salivating at our feet. It didn’t take him long to pick up on what I was doing, and before long we were planning shit together.

“We messed with so many people at school. So much so they all got scared of us, and that was so much better than any of the alternatives.

“Harvey kind of lost interest after we left school, about the time he started losing his hair, and I realised I had to scale things down a bit if I didn’t want to risk pissing off the wrong person.

“I didn’t realise till after you came back that I already had.”

“So, victim of circumstance?”

“Maybe a bit. Victim of being young and stupid more like. I was a total fucking bitch to you. I deserve what you did to me.” She laughed briefly and without humour. “I could tell you I was sorry, but you’d probably think that was because of what you did to me, rather than what I did to you.”

“I guess I would at that. I mean, here you are, still sitting in the same coffee shop window. How did you manage that by the way? I thought you were banned from this place.”

She shrugged. “After I was acquitted of the charges they threw at me – justifiable assault, extreme mitigating circumstances, something like that – and they let me out with time served, things had changed around here. Turns out Arnie, the guy who used to own this place, sold it at a steal to a consortium of his waitresses before skipping town. When they saw me walking past one day, they kind of invited me back. I’m something of a feminist war hero to them, which is such a sad joke.”

“So, still trolling for spite to print in your rag?”

“Nah. They offered me my old job back, but I couldn’t do what I had before. The first thing I wrote was supposed to be a roast of the bank’s branch manager for offering Jack his job back, but I couldn’t get past how all the shit he’d pulled was mainly because of what Harvey and I did to him. The only reason he didn’t sting Harvey and me the same way as the other guys at school was we always went further afield for our loans. I ended up writing a piece applauding the manager for giving the guy a second chance.

“So I got fired from that job then rehired as the paper’s agony aunt. So yeah, I’m sitting in my usual spot staring out at the world, but right now I’m trying to think of a positive answer to BS who is struggling with post natal depression after her seventh pregnancy.”

“Brenda?”

“It’s hardly spy grade crypto, is it? I’m also staring at this fucking thing,” she indicated the éclair sitting in front of her, “but like you told me once, they are sooo addictive.” There was a bitter irony in her tone; an awareness of exactly where the addiction had come from.

“You cannot believe how much I hate them, but I can’t help myself. Every time I come in here, I order one. Then I stare at it for half an hour before sticking it in my fucking mouth. It’s the nearest thing I get to sex these days, and when I bite down on it, my mind fills with what I did to Harvey. I feel my teeth biting through him, I taste his blood, all hot and metallic, I hear him screaming...” A tear trickled down her rounded cheek.

Carrie marshalled her will. “You have the willpower to resist,” she said quietly. “That sense of loathing you feel extends to anything with too much sugar or too many calories. You prefer your coffee black and you’re going to wake up tomorrow morning feeling the desire to exercise. Nothing too strenuous till you’re feeling fitter, but you have the self-control to beat this.”

“Thank fucking fuck,” she said dropping the cake back down on the plate. “But why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That punishment was for the old Alison. I don’t see her here, do you?”

“Oh, she’s here. Just a bit older and a fuck-load wiser. I think I needed something really shitty to happen to me before I could see how shitty I was being to everyone else I knew. I don’t think I’m ready to thank you for it, but... I think it’s good that it happened.”

“You see Harvey much?”

“As little as possible. We catch sight of each other from time to time, but he doesn’t want to talk to the bitch who bit his dick off any more than I want to talk to the bitch who begged some fat fucker to screw him on our wedding bed, while he was wearing my fucking nightdress.”

“We already established that fat fucker was me?”

“Yeah, and I’m still a bit pissed at you for doing him like that, but I guess I understand why you did. Besides, I don’t see him here either, do you?”

Carrie shrugged and shook her head slightly, smiling.

“Harvey and I divorced nine months ago. Uncontested, assets split down the middle. Sold the house since neither of us could afford to keep it on our own. I have a small apartment that suits me, Harvey bought a trailer and turned it into a kind of mobile sex den parked in the back of his car lot. Not sure how legal it is, but I don’t really care. If I was still writing spite for the local rag, what I hear about what goes on in that thing would fill most of my columns.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“Whatever he’s become now, we had some good years.”

“If I fixed him?”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate it, but if you’re asking would I consider getting back together with him, the answer’s no. To much bad blood going both ways. To little good over the years to make it worth saving.”

“Anyone else in your life?”

She laughed, again with that hint of hysteria. “You think anyone would want to date a pre-diabetic fat fuck like me? Even if I did have my figure back, no man’s going to want to come close to the bitch who bit her husband’s cock off, are they?”

“You could always move somewhere no-one’s heard of you.”

“That work for you?”

“I can’t begin to tell you how well.”

“I’m... Actually yeah, I’m glad for you. You deserve a break after the shit you’ve had to deal with in your life. Not for me though. This place is kind of my penance, trying to do some good for the people I’ve screwed over.”

Carrie stood up. “It’s been good catching up Alison. Be kind to yourself.”

“Is that one of your mind-fuck commands?”

“I could make it one of you like, but I think you’d be better off finding your own way with that one.”

“Am I likely to see you again?”

“After today? Most likely not.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but good.”

“Only one way to take it, Alison. Have a better life.”

“You too.”

~oOo~

“Hi Harvey. You look better without the hair .”

He looked up from his computer and put on a weary plastic smile. “A lot of people say the same. Can I help you?”

“I have a sixty-five Corvette I’m looking to sell. I wondered if you might be in the market.”

“A bit rich for my means, I’m afraid. I buy and sell budget cars. Meagre profits.”

“Which I hear you fritter away on local hookers.”

“I don’t know who you are, but what I do with my personal life is my business.”

“I guess so. I did wonder if you might be interested in a free ride.” She held up a strap on of heroic proportions.

Harvey looked at it with longing and despair. Getting up from his desk, he flipped the sign in the door and said, “Follow me.”

“Don’t you want to do it right here and now on your desk?” Carrie said breathlessly. “Or maybe outside on the hood of my Corvette?”

He shook his head. “The police keep an eye on this neighbourhood. Something to do with all the town hookers moving in around here. They think I’m responsible somehow, so I have to keep a low profile.”

“Are you responsible Harvey? Because I heard bad things happened to the last pimp in this town.”

Harvey narrowed his eyes. “Only in as much as I’m a regular customer. As I understand it, they’re all freelance. Hire their own protection and everything. Come on, I have a den out back.”

Carrie followed him through a new door in the rear of the office to the spot where she’d given him his first blow job. All the crap was gone and a high-end Airstream filled most of the space with a neatly maintained garden in front of it.

“I remember this place,” she said. “It’s a bit tidier than the first time you brought me here.”

He rounded in her. “Who the fuck are you?”

Carrie let her appearance shift briefly into her old redheaded self, complete with the impressive rack Harvey had admire so much on their first meeting.

“Oh fuck,” he said, paling visibly. “No. No, no, no, no, no, fucking no. Not you.”

“Afraid so, Harvey. Why don’t we go inside and talk? Or fuck if you like, or maybe fuck and talk at the same time or do one then the other. Like I said, this one’s a freebie, and you have to admit, I am the best you’ve ever had.”

“I don’t want nothing from you.”

“That’s a double negative, Harvey. It means you really do, and I can see that you do.

“I’ll tell you what though, why don’t we just talk first? You can make me a cup of coffee, and we can just chew the fat for a while. I’m assuming you still have some fat wants chewing?”

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that.”

“Actually, Harvey, I thought we’d established you were the fucking bitch. Didn’t we decide that last year?”

He didn’t reply, just climbed the steps into the Airstream, leaving the door ajar in invitation. Carrie followed.

He disappeared into the bedroom at the far end. The rest of the space pretty standard for an Airstream – kitchen, diner, sofa, stupidly large TV. She looked around her, wiped thick layers of dust off various surfaces with her finger.

The door behind her opened. She turned...

“Oh, Harvey!” she exclaimed sadly.

“I’m your fucking fuck bitch,” Harvey said miserably, resplendent in a bubble-gum pink, satin baby doll nightie, complete with ruffled, crotchless satin panties. Harvey’s dick hung lifeless through the gap. “I’m begging you to come fuck my brains out.” There was a tiredness and despair in the way he said it, along with a deep desperate longing.

“Harvey, you don’t want this. Having someone fuck you up the ass is so demeaning. You get no pleasure from it, so stop asking for it.” She put a lot of her will behind the words.

“Oh, thank God!” He fell to his knees, sobbing deeply. “Thank fucking G...”

“I don’t know that he had so much to do with it, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate that sort of language.”

“Why? I mean why did you do this to me?”

“Oh come on Harvey. Someone must have visited you in the hospital. I mean you do know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Deputy Mills dropped by, making weird animal noises. What the fuck was that about?”

“Better than the alternative. Does he still bleat at all?”

“Not so much these days. Only when he gets angry. You have to know it was Alison’s idea back at the junior prom. I never did anything more than go along with her.”

“You think that gets you off the hook, Harvey? I mean, would Jack have agreed to take me to the dance if you hadn’t talked him into it? That must have been quite the sales job too. I mean, ‘Hey Jack, I know he’s a dude, but he won’t look like one, and a blow job’s a blow job no matter who gives it to you. Trust me, by the time Ali’s done with him, you won’t even believe he’s a guy.’ Was it something like that?”

“Yeah, maybe. It was only in fun though.”

“Did it look like fun?” Carrie’s playful mood evaporated like a damp patch in the sun, leaving a cold anger behind. “When I was sitting in the mud covered in all that crap, screaming my fucking head off, did that look like fucking fun?”

“No. No, it didn’t. Fuck man...”

“Do you see a fucking man here, Harvey?”

“No. No I don’t. I’m messing this up. Carrie, I am so fucking sorry. I get that it was terrible for you, and if what I’ve been through this year was even half as bad, I can’t imagine how you survived. But...”

“If you’re going to try and persuade me Alison deserves punishing more than you, can I suggest you just don’t. You both fucking screwed with me, and when they dragged me away to that fucking asylum, you just went back to your lives, both of you. Neither one caring what you’d done to me. Neither one caring enough to even find out what happened to me, where I disappeared to. You just carried on living your lives and fucking ruining other people’s.”

“I know. You’re right. I’m just begging you to make it stop.”

“You think it hasn’t? Harvey, lay on your bed and beg me to butt fuck you.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want the pleasure it’ll bring.”

“There is no fucking pleasure in this, you fucking bitch!”

“I thought there was. I thought that’s why you kitted out this kinky shrine and bought yourself all these nice things to wear.”

“I don’t fucking want any of this!”

“Then don’t have it. Take off that ridiculous costume and put your clothes back on.”

“Really?”

“Either that or aske me to strap this fucker on and ram it up your ass so far it comes out your nose.”

“No.”

“Good. So get changed. Actually, before you do, stand up.”

He did so warily. She took his flaccid penis in her hands. It didn’t even twitch.

“Does this work at all?”

“I can pee through it, but I don’t feel anything when anyone touches it. The doctor made it so I can inflate it and use it to have sex, but I never feel anything and I never, you know...”

“Climax?”

“Right. And the irony’s not lost on me you know?”

“Sorry?”

“Alison must have told you how I only rarely finished her off. I mean she fucking complained to me about it enough times. Now I’ve got the capacity to keep going till I get friction burns, but I’m never going to get my rocks off again. Ever.”

“I could always put you back the way you were. At least that way you’d still have the pleasure of an orgasm to look forward to.”

“No fucking thanks. I don’t want to be nobody’s bitch.”

“Double negatives again. Even if it means no more pleasure from sex?”

“Even if. Can I get changed now?”

“Hey, this is your home. Nobody’s forcing you too do anything you don’t want, at least not any more. Just, before you go, where d’you keep the coffee?”

It was instant and not even particularly good, but it had caffeine in it. Carrie had two mugs made by the time Harvey re-emerged wearing his suit.

“So what now?” he asked adding cream and sugar to his drink.

“That’s kind of up to you,” she replied. “Like I said, I have a sixty-five Corvette I’m looking to sell. I’ve put a few miles on it, but I’ve looked after it pretty well.”

“This can’t just be about the fucking car. Besides, like I said, I don’t have a lot of spare cash.”

“Not even twenty grand?”

He glowered at her across the lounge area. “Not even twenty grand.”

“How about a trade in? I liked the look of that Chevy station wagon. Could you do twelve and that?”

“Ticket price on the Chevy is ten.”

“Okay, so meet halfway. Eleven and the Chevy.”

“It’s not stick.”

“The Chevy? Of course not. I’m getting tired of all the manual shifting.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Probably because I was so nasty before. Call it an olive branch.”

“You expect me to say thank you?”

“No. You fucked up my life, I fucked up yours. Nothing you can do will give me back the twelve years I lost in that asylum. Nothing I can do will give you back what you lost.

“I don’t need you to fucking thank me. Just learn from this, okay? They may have been Alison’s ideas, but you were a little too keen to go along with them. I came here hoping to find that being on the receiving end has changed your mind about being an asshole.”

“Fucking yeah.”

“Great. See that it stays that way, and pray you never see me again. There’s worse I can do to you, and next time I probably won’t come back to fix you.

“Now, do you want to make a deal on the car or not?

~oOo~

“Hi Jack.”

Jack Sanders looked up from his work and cocked his head to one side thoughtfully.

“Carrie?”

“Now see, that I really don’t get. How you can be the only person to recognise me looking like this and yet you had no idea that people were taking the piss out of you when we were kids, by calling you Primo Jack.”

He stood and quickly closed the door to his office.

“If I don’t mind, you’ve done quite enough for my reputation at this bank.”

“I’ve done enough? As I recall, it was you went and confessed to your boss, not me.”

“Yes, but... well, everyone’s been talking about your mind control abilities.”

“You mean when they weren’t making sheep noises?”

“My point exactly.”

“I guess guilty as charged. Are you saying I did wrong?”

“No, I deserved what I got, then got better than I deserved after. I’m guessing that was your doing as well, having a word with the branch manager?”

“Also true. You always were brighter than most of our friends.”

“So, did you come back expecting me to say thank you?”

“No, I was just in the neighbourhood and thought I’d check in. This office is cosy, isn’t it? A lot more snug than your last one.”

“You’ll not get a rise out of me. I’m just grateful to have a job.”

“Then how about maybe giving something back?”

“You want something from me? I already gave you twenty thousand dollars as I recall.”

“Ah yes, but that was extortion for keeping quiet about your nefarious activity.”

“Which you then went and made me admit to.”

“Well, you seemed so sure there was nothing wrong with what you were doing, I simply suggested, since that was the case, that you wouldn’t have any worries about telling your boss.

“This is different. This is about paying forward the good things that happen to you.”

“What’s that?”

“You know, when something good comes your way, as a way of showing your gratitude, you pass on something good to someone else who needs it. What goes around comes around, don’t you know?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Offer Harvey Lewis a business loan.”

“Not a chance.”

“Oh Jack, and we were doing so well.”

“Even if I wanted to, the bank would never sanction it. Everybody knows what he does with his money these days.”

“Yes, but does everybody know why he does what he does with his money? You know yourself how hard it is to resist certain impulses. What if I were to tell you he no longer has them?”

“You know what he did to me.”

“Yes, and what he did to me. Our lives didn’t turn out that bad though, did they? I mean, how’s the little one? Littlest one I should say?”

His expression softened.

“Better given you have the job, I imagine.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No? Someone had to overlook your fuckups and give you a second chance.”

“How do you propose I sell it to my boss?”

“Go talk to Harvey. Give him a day or two to get his act together, then go see if he’s changed. If you think he deserves a second chance, go tell your boss what you think. If he gives you shit, remind him what he said when he sacked you. You know, about the bank being there to support the community rather than taking advantage of it?”

“I’ll try, but I make no promises.”

“That’s all anyone can ask, Jack.”

“Yeah. Well, if it’s all the same to you, would you leave me alone now? I have a ton of work to do.”

“Sure. Bye Jack. Take care of that family of yours.”

She walked out of the bank to find the branch manager standing outside, breathing in the air. He looked happier and healthier than the last time they’d meet.

“Hi,” Carrie said to him.

He turned a vaguely puzzled frown in her direction. “Do I know you?” he asked.

“Not really. You helped me out once in the bank. I suppose it’s unlikely you’d remember. Lovely day though, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is.”

“When Jack Sanders comes to you with a loan proposal later, hear him out. Then when he’s done talking, think about whether he’s changed enough to be offered his old job back.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything, but remember what I suggested.” She influenced her words only a little, not enough to force the decision, but enough to hint at the idea. She’d learnt over the previous year that other people’s free will wasn’t something to toyed with, not if she wanted to hold onto her own humanity.

She gave him a friendly smile and headed over to the Corvette, where a patrol car had pulled up next to it and a uniformed officer stood nearby looking it over.

“Deputy Mills, can I help you?”

“Is this, er, your... I’m sorry ma’am, do I know you?”

“I’d say we’ve both changed since our last encounter, deputy. You don’t look quite so woolly headed for one thing.”

He stiffened and gave her a searching look. She rewarded him with the briefest flash of her previous appearance.

“I thought I recognised the car. You’re not back to cause more trouble, are you?”

“I don’t know. Do you have any trouble needs causing?”

“I think we can manage without, thank you.”

“Glad to hear it. Any sheeple left among your circle of friends?”

“One or two. We’re working on helping them though, same as we did for the rest of us.”

“Sounds like you came up with the right sort of pro-active response. Maybe you could suggest reaching out to Jack and Brenda.”

“You trying to influence me?”

“No need to with you, deputy. I was thinking of the folks you’re still trying to help though. I know Jack shat his own bed when he turned on you guys, but he and Brenda could still do with some friends, and it’s not as if you lot are totally without blame in the whole thing.”

“Some of the folks from our class are still struggling to get by, thanks to what he did. Meeh.”

“Sounds like you’re not quite there either, deputy. We all need a second chance. Pro-active means giving people that second chance even when you don’t want to.”

“You told that to Alison and Harvey lately?”

“Yes actually. They’re my bête noire and I’m dealing with them in my way. Jack Sanders is yours.”

“You’re up there on the shit-list too, Carrie. Most folks could really have used those pay-outs from the bank.”

“Yeah, well we talked about that last year. Would it make things easier if I told you I persuaded Jack to give me twenty grand when I was here last year?”

“Not much... but maybe a little. Still doesn’t change any of our minds about you.”

“No, but that’s okay. I’ve no great fondness for this place, so I don’t plan to stay long.”

“Good, ‘cos I don’t want to see you or your damned car anywhere around here. Meeehh.”

“Careful deputy, you’re falling back into old ways of thinking.”

“You’re doing this to me, meheheh.”

“You’re doing it to yourself, though I guess I’m not helping. Relax though, I’ll be out of here before sundown. Not the car though. I left Harvey sorting out some paperwork. As soon as we’ve done our trade, I’ll be outta here.

“Don’t lose what you’ve gained though, deputy. You still need to put yourself in my shoes, which’d look kinda cute on you don’t you think?”

“Don’t start that mind-fuck shit again.”

“Not planning to, but spend a while thinking on what you and your friends did to me and see how well things balance out then. I’d hate for you to go back to the way you were last year.

“Or if that’s too hard, maybe you should think a little on making up with Jack. I mean, I’ll be gone soon with no plans to come back, and you may find it easier to forgive Jack than me.”

She climbed into the Corvette and gunned it into life. Her last time having to deal with a manual transmission, for which she was grateful.

“Take care now deputy,” she said. “Have a great life and focus on the good more than the bad.”

“Is that what you did last year?”

“No, but I was wrong. I learned and I’m trying to do better.”

“Giving that money back would be a start. Removing this stupid thing you’ve pushed on us would be another.”

“Except then how would you and the others learn that what you did was wrong? You’re well on the way to fixing the stupid thing, but you have to accept the money is gone. Whether you wanted to pay it or no, it’s what you owed me for your part in what happened to me.

“See what Jack has to say. He might have some notion on how to fix things for you all.”

“By loaning us more money?”

“Maybe. I’m no banker, deputy. He knows the best way to make money work for you, and he might have some way to do it at a fairer rate than he offered you before.

“You know, that was meant to be a farewell. Now I’m just going to have to drive away. I do hope you find peace, you and all the rest, and it sure looksà you’re well on the way. You just have to learn to see things from the other person’s point of view, like I have.”

“Yeah, well... Maybe you’re right. It don’t mean any of us gotta like it.”

“Can’t argue with that. See you around deputy.”

She drove off before he could say anything else, in the direction of Harvey’s place of business.

~oOo~

The Chevy was a smoother, quieter ride than the Corvette. Driving it suited her mood. After Harvey, the last of the burden she’d been carrying for a year was gone, and she felt completely at peace.

It pleased her to know that most of the assholes from the reunion had made the effort to improve themselves, and the few who hadn’t were getting help. There wasn’t much else she could do for them. Reverse the impulse, maybe, but then they’d go back to being assholes. At least this way they had a chance of improving themselves. And if they chose not to, then at least they’d be too busy chewing on grass stems and staring into space to be assholes to anyone else.

You had to leave people some capacity for choice, and if they chose not to make something more of themselves, who was she to force them to be something they weren’t?

She had a lot of miles to cover before she made it back to the sleepy town in the mountains she’d made her home. It was so different from where she’d grown up, which made it easier to leave the misery of her past behind her.

Now that she’d dealt with the last of her unresolved issues, she could give her mind over to building a future at last.

There was this guy, Josh. He ran the local hardware store, and had been calling on her regularly for some weeks now, always when her place was close to empty. He’d order a coffee and nursed it for half an hour before heading back out, usually without saying a word.

She’d done nothing to encourage him so far, preferring to resolve her issues with Alison and Harvey before doing anything to move ahead with her own life. Now that was dealt with and the weight of guilt eased from her shoulders, she was looking forward to the next time he came around.

It was the way he looked at her – the real her that is. It wasn’t the hungry looks people always gave her strawberry blonde knockout illusion – she could appreciate Alison’s point of view on that – but rather a softer, gentler kind of longing. She could see the way he wanted to be with her as well as the uncertainty over whether his advances would be appreciated. It made her feel soft and gooey inside.

The weather was just about right for a picnic. Next time he was in, she planned to mention her intention of going on one and asking if he might like to join her.

There was that big field down the hill from her place. It had such a great view of the valley below them and would be a perfect spot. Apart from anything else, it would give her the opportunity to pick up some details from the real estate developer’s sign that had appeared there in recent weeks.

It was a prime location for development with the one major downside being that any property built there would ruin the view from anywhere in the town.

Well, it would ruin the view from her home at least. Whether anyone else felt the same remained to be seen. More homes meant more people which meant more commerce, so there’d be some people in the town more likely to welcome the development.

Which meant she shouldn’t react unilaterally.

There was a town meeting planned for next Thursday, ideal for figuring out who cared most about what. Chances were the whole thing was down to some underhand agreement between the mayor’s office and the developer, and if that turned out to be true it might be necessary to encourage a few people to change their minds over what they were doing.

Then again, there was also the possibility that the whole thing was above board and more of her neighbours were in favour of the development than against. In which case she’d have to swallow her own objections and let the majority have their way.

There had been no such thing as democracy in the asylum, and she wasn’t sure she liked it much. Except, like that British guy had said, it was the worst way of doing things apart from all the others. It was a tough lesson to learn and had taken most of the past year for her to get anywhere near. As far as she could see, American democracy seemed to consist of letting everyone have a vote and then letting the guys with all the money and power do whatever they wanted anyway, and that didn’t sit well with her. It seemed like a system rigged to benefit those few who made the rules and she was determined to stand against that sort of crap.

Except she still wasn’t sure that letting everyone have a say was that great an idea either. She thought of the orange buffoon currently inhabiting the Oval Office along with his robot sidekick and wondered if one man one vote was such a great idea if it could put someone like him in power for a second term, especially after all the crap he’d pulled in his first.

But what did that leave? Democracy had started off with only an educated and privileged few having the right to vote – what the ancient Greeks called an oligarchy. It seemed to make sense keeping it so that only people who understood the issues should get to decide what was best, but it fell apart when human nature factored in and the few with the power chose to vote to serve their own greed rather than the common good.

It was kind of how things worked these days, only without those with the power having the honesty to admit it. The rich and powerful kept hidden and ensured their influence remained regardless of who was in power.

Some semblance of democracy still existed in that the general population got to decide who would be the next president, then he would engage in a never-ending power struggle with Congress to have his policies enacted. Checks and balances that hobbled any president in power, while the people with the real power quietly got on with their lives.

Then there was the issue that had overshadowed recent elections. Analysis of illegally acquired data to find out what would appeal to different demographics voters, influencing how a candidate’s advertising campaign should be conducted. It was like a subtler version of her own superpower, influencing people’s choices so they became anything but.

She didn’t use her ability much these days for that very reason. Twelve years locked in a mad house had taught her to value freedom of choice. Then there had been the events from a year ago, when she’d taken that same thing away from so many people. It had left her feeling twisted inside. It had felt right and just to start with, but then she’d noticed the danger and felt the temptation that came with it. Why stop at revenge? Why not just do anything she wanted with anyone she wanted? It would have turned her into a selfish child with potentially a world full of toys. Where would it end? Tell an airline pilot to fly his plane into the centre of Tehran or Baghdad. No need for terrorists to take over the plane, and why should she care about the few hundred lives that would be lost? Visit the Kremlin and tell the guards next time they saw the president, to take out their guns and shoot him. Tell the entire inhabitants of Mauritius or Barbados to pack up and leave the island, except for maybe a few hundred who would live in some secluded ghetto and serve her every whim. She could have everything she wanted in life, and all it would cost was her soul and possibly the future of the entire human race.

She’d been studying hard over the previous year, attempting to make up for the lack of education in the asylum. Ethics, philosophy and politics were her subjects of choice, because they went right to the heart of her dilemma. They’d taught her to value freedom – not just hers, but everyone’s. She would probably have returned to undo all that she’d done anyway, but she had a clearer understanding of the issues now and had probably dealt with the issues better as a result of her studies. Even her parents recognised her again. They didn’t understand her – it would have been too difficult to replace all their memories of her as their son with fresh ones as their daughter. It meant they had to live with their disappointment in having a transgendered child, which would be as much punishment as their prejudice would inflict on them, and at least might offer them a way out if they chose to take it. She’d turn up at family events and twist the knife a little, otherwise she was happy enough to have nothing to do with them until one or both of them choose to try and bridge the gap.

Back to politics though, and what should she do? What could she do? Directly influencing the leader of the free world would be setting herself up as a dictator, and what did she know about fair government? Maybe convince him to be honest about his past. Stand up in public and tell everyone about his finances, his encounters with members of the opposite sex, the things he’d done to ensure he was elected both times. See how long he lasted after that.

But then what? Go back to the way things had been with presidents hiding enough of their true nature to make it look like democracy existed after all?

There had been honest presidents in the past though. Great statesmen who genuinely spent their lives making America great. Perhaps what was needed was a return to that sort of honesty. Perhaps she should spend a bit more time in the capital. She’d miss the mountains and Josh of course, but there would be other Josh’s and the mountains were always there to be visited.

There was that Spiderman quote about great power and great responsibility. She’d been given an ability and she had the obligation to use it properly. She began to imagine a future where the president’s inaugural speech would result in him – or her; no female presidents yet, but they weren’t far away – unable to stop themselves declaring exactly what sort of a person they were. A future where congressmen and women, senators and high court judges would randomly feel the need to speak in public about their past misdeeds.

It wouldn’t be long before people with something to hide would get very worried about what was happening and try and figure out what, which meant she’d have to be very careful. Find some lowly job that gave her a reason to be there. Then whenever she acted, make use of illusions to hide who she was and stay away from the cameras that could see through her all the time.

If she was successful, the dishonest and power hungry would start avoiding politics leaving room for people who cared about the future of the country and the world.

Then maybe she could start looking into the wealthy power mongers who plagued their world. Being female afforded her a degree of anonymity giving her an advantage when it came to looking into different companies, then she’d only need a minute or two with each of the miserable bastards to give them a taste of their own medicine and redistribute their wealth a little more fairly.

There was that temptation raising its ugly head again. She knew she needed a moral compass. Someone other than herself. Someone without any special powers other than a clear ability to see when she was taking hers too far, and the courage to confront her. She envisaged Josh in the role and decided he might be a decent fit. She felt an abrupt need to be home among friendly faces, perhaps one in particular.

“You’re not tired,” she told herself, bringing her will to bear. “You’re alert enough to drive through the night and most of tomorrow if necessary.” She felt fresh energy suffuse her and drove on into the dusk.

Twenty two hours and more than a thousand miles later, she pulled up into her driveway. Numerous stops for gas, coffee and the restroom, but overall an easy run and she still felt remarkably fresh. She lifted her small valise out of the back and stepped up to her front door, fumbling in her handbag for her keys.

“You’re back sooner than you said.”

She turned to find Josh leaning on the back of her car, an unreadable smile on his face.

“I finished my business sooner than expected, and I just had a hankering to be home again, so I drove straight.”

“From...? How long did it take you?’

“Best part of a day and a night. Which means I’m about done in. Can we pick this up tomorrow?”

“Sure, only I thought you wanted to be at the town meeting.”

“That’s next week, isn’t it?”

“It was, but then the mayor decided to bring it forward. Posted the reminder late this morning. Some excuse about an arrangement come up he can’t cancel next week.”

“Those golf games if his are so important.”

“I hear yah. Anyway, there’s a bunch of us figured we can afford to shut up shop for a few hours, Better use of our time making the rounds just in case folks have been too busy to check the bulletin.”

“He didn’t email everyone?”

“I’m guessing he will, or his PA will, but I’m also guessing they’ll wait till the last minute to do so.”

“You think he’s trying to sneak this one through.”

“Has all the signs of it. By next meeting it’ll be too late to do anything about the real estate deal. As it is we’re likely to be down on numbers with a change this late in the day. Too late to make child care arrangements, that sort of thing.”

“Could you have a word with Marjory? See if she can open her day-care for the evening. I’d be willing to pay her if it meant we could get a few more folks down there.”

“I’m heading over there in a while, so I’ll ask her. How about you? You coming?”

“Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away. But exhaustion might. Could you call back around six thirty and bang on my door till I answer?”

“Sure thing. I’ll walk you down there if you don’t mind.”

“I’d like that Josh, thank you.”

Josh waved and headed off down the road leaving her to fight her way into her house. Unpacking could wait as could just about everything else. She told herself to wake up at five and collapsed on the sofa where she was asleep within minutes.

One of the occasional downsides of being a woman was the amount of time it took to get ready. Normally she enjoyed the process of making herself presentable, each step adding a layer of self validation over the last until what she wore was as much confidence as it was clothing and makeup.

Only it all took time. She’d woken herself at five after far too little sleep and set about showering and washing her hair. It was dry at last and she had only half an hour before Josh would be here in order to do her makeup, dress, accessorise and take care of any of a number of other small but essential tasks. On days like this when there wasn’t a lot of time, she struggled to fit it all in.

Fortunately Josh was a few minutes late which meant she was just attaching her second earring as the last thing to do when he knocked on the door.

“Coming,” she called and made her way to the door while still fiddling with her jewellery. She opened the door.

He whistled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were going on a date.”

“Maybe you should try asking me out sometime and see what you get then.” She bit her lip, cursing herself silently. This was a part of being a girl she still struggled with. Keeping quiet and letting the guy take the lead.

“Maybe I will,” he said, but didn’t say anything further. He did offer her his elbow, which she took contentedly enough. They walked towards the town hall together, her drinking in the delight of simply being herself, him drinking in the delight of being with her, apparently.

Numbers were definitely down. The town wasn’t immense but it generally managed between one and two hundred citizens at a meeting; closer to the upper end for important meetings like this one. This evening there were fewer than fifty.

“Couldn’t Marjory help?” Carrie asked.

“Sure. She even offered to do it for free, but last minute notice evidently didn’t get around to everyone, or they already had plans they couldn’t break.”

He couldn’t say more. The mayor’s assistant had just banged the table with his gavel, officially opening the meeting.

The mayor stood and, with something of a self-satisfied smile, spoke to them about the new development and what had been agreed. Being public land, there would have been an opportunity to challenge it being sold off, but with so few people present, and a large proportion of them pro development even if it meant losing their view, the likelihood of it being overturned was low.

He finished talking and opened the floor for questions.

Josh leaned in. “Looks like he won this one.”

“I don’t hear no fat lady singing just yet,” Carrie responded and stood up.

“Miss Leach,” the Mayor said. “One of our newer inhabitants. Please, what would you like to say.”

“I want you to answer me truthfully,” she replied, bringing her will to bear. She hadn’t tried it from this distance before, but she was getting better at focusing it.

The mayor smiled. “I’d like to say I’m always truthful, but I am only human.” His smile wavered a little.

“But on an important issue like this you will tell us the whole truth as you know it.” More will. More reinforcement.

“Er, yes. Yes, of course.”

“So tell us the reason for this development, sir.” Easy question. Lull him into a false sense of security.

The smile was back. He spoke of necessary expansion in the town. More homes would mean more jobs and more business.

“But why that particular field, sir? There are a lot of others, closer to the town, nearer to existing utilities, larger plots.”

“Well, the realtors specifically asked for that field.”

“For the view? They’d be able to sell at a higher price because of the location?”

“If y... Yes. That’s what they told me.”

“You know that if houses are built there it would ruin the view for those of us who already live here? Also lower the value of all our properties?”

“Er...” he was sweating now. “Yes. Yes I do know that.”

“So why would you allow a bunch of outsiders to come in and develop the best piece of land we have?”

“Because...” He was struggling to keep from speaking, but he couldn’t. “Because they paid me a hundred thousand dollars to let them build there.”

“You meaning the town funds, or you personally?”

“Me personally. They also promised me membership to the golf club down by the lake.”

“Quite an exclusive place then?”

“Oh yes. You don’t get in without a recommendation.”

“So what you’re telling us is you abused your position to screw us all over for the price of a new Mercedes and a letter of recommendation?”

“A BMW, but essentially yes.”

“Ladies and gents, we’re too low in numbers to do anything but vote for all the mayor’s activities be suspended pending a full town meeting.”

“If they’d cared, they’d have been here tonight,” the PA shouted.

“Mr Mayor, did you deliberately bring the timing of this meeting forward and send out notifications as late as you could in an effort to reduce numbers here tonight?”

He looked at his PA helplessly. “Mr Sanders sends out the emails...”

“So Mr Sanders is complicit in this too?”

“Yes.”

“I call for a vote of no confidence in the mayor and his staff, and a cessation of all current projects until we can vote on it.”

“I second the motion,” Josh said. “All in favour raise your hands.”

Everyone was that shocked by the mayor’s confession they all raised their hands.

“Against?”

No hands.

“Abstaining?”

Again no hands.

“Mrs Berry, would you take over recording the minutes from Mr Sanders and check that what he’s written down is a fair record of what we’ve heard tonight? I’m also proposing we hold next week’s meeting as planned to discuss this matter. Whether or not the mayor thinks it worth cancelling his plans to be there is his affair.”

There was no shortage of seconders and again a unanimous vote in favour.

The meeting descended into chaos and the mayor and his staff made a quiet exit. Not quiet enough though. Josh noticed and called a few neighbours to head down to the offices to make sure nobody did anything else illegal.

Carrie walked home alone. Hers was a quiet neighbourhood and she felt safe enough. Besides if anyone did try to mug her, they’d likely find themselves turning their weapons on themselves. She felt justified in what she’d done. It felt right that anyone in public office should be held accountable for their actions and, since she had the ability, that they should be made to tell the truth. Maybe that way they’d not have quite so many self-serving charlatans in office.

Back home she went through an abbreviated night-time routine and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

She allowed herself a lie in the following morning, rousing at nine then showered, dressed and breakfasted by ten thirty. The weather was pleasantly warm which meant a light cotton summer dress in bright floral colours. She stepped out her front door, preparing to walk up to her coffee shop, only to find Josh waiting for her.

“Have you been waiting out here all morning?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“You could have knocked.”

“I remembered what you said about your drive the other day. I figured you needed a bit of rest.”

“I was heading up to the shop. Would you care to accompany me?”

“Am I safe?”

It took Carrie a moment to understand what he meant, then she wanted to object, but found she had no grounds.

“What could I say,” she asked, ”that would convince you that you were?”

“You make a fair point, though not a very reassuring one.”

“Would you permit me to influence you? So you can understand what it feels like?”

“You didn’t seem to need the mayor’s permission.”

“I didn’t. I don’t. But I’m asking you, and I won’t do anything unless you say it’s okay.”

“You’ll undo it when I ask?”

“Of course.”

She focused. “Tell me the truth. How do you feel about me right now?”

“More than a little scared, but I still find you attractive... Okay, you can turn it off now.”

She focused again. “Only tell me the truth if you want to. You have the ability to recognise when I’m trying to influence you and more than that, you have the necessary willpower to resist.”

“Will that work?”

“I don’t know. Are you up for another experiment?”

“Sure.”

She focused again. “Take your shoes off.”

He reached for a shoe then stopped halfway. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“I seriously doubt that; you’re too good a man. Feeling any safer?”

“I guess. Why would you do that though? Give away your advantage I mean?”

They set off up the hill towards the town’s main street. “I’d rather you weren’t afraid of me, or worrying all the time whether or not you were only doing a thing because I told you to. It would put a lot of strain on our relationship.”

“Oh, we’re in a relationship now, are we?”

“Well, yeah. I mean a friendship’s a relationship, isn’t it? Whether we take it any deeper is up to you. I mean, I didn’t intend for you to admit that about being attracted to me just now, not to force it out of you when you weren’t ready. To balance things out between us, I find you attractive too. So now it’s down to you. If you were to ask me out some time, it’s likely I’d say yes.”

“Now that’s just taking all the excitement out of asking.”

“And the fear of rejection. If you like, I could flip a coin. Heads I say yes, tails I say no.”

“As long as you keep flipping till it comes up heads.”

“Naturally.”

“Would you like to go out with me this evening?”

“No.”

He missed a step.

“There, excitement and uncertainty restored. Ask again whenever you like.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about your, you know, thing.”

“I figured. Go ahead.”

“How long...”

“I don’t know. I put a few people from my home town under a year ago, and they were still doing what I told them when I went back there earlier this week.”

“I was actually asking how long have you been able to do this, but alright. Is that what you went away for?”

She nodded.

“What was it you did to them?”

“Some pretty nasty things. You may have a very different opinion of me by the time I’m done telling. I’m not going to justify myself. I was very angry at the time and probably a little heady with having just discovered this ability and what I could do with it, and I rather massively overreacted. I’m just hoping that, if I tell you everything in context, you’ll be able to understand it better from my point of view and won’t utterly hate me by the end.”

“I don’t see that happening.”

“Please. Wait until the end before deciding exactly what you think. It’s going to take some telling, so how do you fancy doing it over coffee before I open up?” They’d reached her place – Carrie’s Coffee – and she was fishing in her handbag for her keys.

“I’m guessing you’ll have them lot banging on the door half a minute after we walk through the door.” He nodded at a group of mainly women gathered around the grocer’s display. “Everyone’s going to want to know what happened last night. Why don’t you deal with them first and I’ll wait for things to quiet down?”

“Well, if you’ve nothing better to do.”

“Can’t think of anything better than waiting for you, ‘cept maybe waiting with you.”

Stupid sentiment, but Carrie felt herself go soft inside.

Josh was right. She’d barely turned the coffee machine on before the door opened and what seemed like half the town’s young women came bustling in. A couple of them had been present at the meeting the previous evening so Carrie let them have their moment in the spotlight while she filled everyone’s orders. Josh’s first since he’d been first to arrive.

There was a lot of wild speculation over why the mayor had admitted to all his underhand dealings, and even a few cautious glances directed her way.

She shrugged them off. “So I told him to tell the truth. Are you seriously suggesting that’s why he did it?”

“Was it?”

“Okay Sandra, I want you to tell the truth about where all your gossip comes from.” She didn’t put any will behind her words.

“Yeah, as if,” the woman named Sandra snorted. Then, “Oh, I see.”

“What do you see?”

“Well, if she could get anyone to tell the truth, I’d be revealing all my secrets about now, wouldn’t I?”

“Maybe she has to really mean it.”

“Well, Caroline, I really do want to know where Sandra get’s her gossip. So come on Sandra, spill.”

“You know I won’t. Come on girls, it wasn’t her. Maybe someone slipped him a Mickey. You know, truth serum. What’s it called”

“Sodium pentathlon?” Carrie chipped in.

“That’s the stuff. Only who’d do it and why?”

Carrie put her hands up. “Don’t look at me. I just got in from out of state. Didn’t even know the meeting was last night till Josh came calling. You can ask him if you doubt me.”

He raised his mug of coffee in agreement. “She arrived back yesterday afternoon. I saw her pull up.”

The speculations drifted in different directions and Carrie slipped into the background, refilling drinks orders and generally keeping to herself. Overall what came across was a sense of excited optimism now that it looked like local officialdom wasn’t going to get away with wrecking the town.

They kept on chatting for another three quarters of an hour, filling Carrie’s cash register nicely before drifting off in twos and threes. By eleven thirty the place was empty again except for the two of them.

Carrie filled a couple of fresh mugs and carried them across with a chocolate éclair.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s a cream cake obviously. You know you want it, and they are sooo addictive.” She pushed gently with her mind.

“Are you trying to influence me?”

“Mhm. The difference is you can tell when I’m doing it and you don’t have to give in. When I met Alison this time last year for the first time in twelve years, she had no defence. I’d changed my appearance.” Carrie focused on herself and brought up the illusory red headed knockout. “I’m not sure how well this will work now that I’ve given you the ability to resist my abilities. I mean, I push this on myself so maybe it’ll get past you.”

“I can feel that you’re doing something, but damn, I’m darn sure I don’t want to fight it.”

Carrie smiled. “The thing is, at the time I actually looked more like this.” She imagined her actual body shape and overlaid it.”

“Well shit!” Spoken after a short stunned pause.

“Yeah, pretty gross. You see my mum was a Cary Grant fan, which probably means she married my dad for his surname.”

“Archibald Leach, yeah?”

Carrie nodded. “She christened me Cary with one R and a Y, and for pretty much as far back as I can remember, I’ve wished it was the other spelling; the spelling I use now.”

She went through the whole story, pausing after retelling her experiences at the junior prom around the time the lunch crowd turned up. She gave him a fresh coffee and a sandwich to chew on while she served everyone, then when things quietened down, she went into some detail of her experiences in the mental hospital. There were a few interruptions during the afternoon, but for the most part business was slow. By mid afternoon she had reached the point in the story where her ability had manifested. She described how she’d lashes out mentally at her doctor and the profound effect it had had on him, how she’d taken a while to explore what she could do before escaping. She’d just finished describing her first brief visit home and the retribution she’d meted out on her parents around the end of the working day when customers started turning up again.

“A bit harsh as judgements go,” Josh said. His first comment since lunch.

“You don’t think what I did to my doctor was worse?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“I was angry, Josh. It’s hard to describe just how angry. What I did to my parents was nothing compared to what I did next.”

“Getting some woman addicted to cream cakes?”

“That was just the beginning. Another coffee?”

“No, I think I’ve had about as much as I can take for one day.”

“Of me talking, or...?”

“Of the coffee. I still want to hear the rest of your story.”

“A glass of water then?”

“That’d be appreciated, then maybe we could take this down to Riley’s. I have a feeling I’m going to need something a little stronger for what’s coming next.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She served the end of the day crowd then hung the closed sign across the door. They walked down the street to Riley’s bar in silence and found a quiet booth at the back. Josh bought the drinks – double bourbon for him wine spritzer for her.

She spared no details talking about her revenge on Harvey and Alison in all its gory, sordid horror. She even included the way she’d dealt with the pimp as well as her original plans for her classmates.

She ran out of words about the time she’d left the reunion and driven away. Her throat was raw and tears streamed freely down her face.

Josh waited a while then coughed gently. She looked up, finding more concern and compassion in his expression than disgust.

“This isn’t the person I’ve come to know over the past year, so I have to wonder what changed.”

“I’m sure I don’t know. Although there was a time towards the end I started speculating about whether I could convince my body to produce more oestrogen and less testosterone, and I remember there being a softening in my feelings about them.”

“I don’t believe that’s it. Some of the most vicious, vindictive people I’ve known have been women. Natural born women with nothing but girl juice inside of them.”

She shrugged. “I’ve nothing else.”

“You sure? Or are you so intent on thinking yourself to be so evil?”

“But I am evil. I turned one person into a human blimp and persuaded her to bite off her husband’s...”

“Evil acts out of self-interest. Sometimes good people can be driven to do evil things but, apart from what you’ve told me, I’ve seen none of that in you.”

“But...”

“Why did you go back to your home town last week? I mean, after what you said I’d have thought you had nothing to take you back.”

“Well, I visited my parents “

“And do they still believe they’re unworthy to be parents?”

“No... They are a little upset with me though.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. There wasn’t much I could do to change all the photo albums and old things of mine that they had, so I told them I had a sex change. Persuaded a visiting psychiatrist that I was transgender and had myself transferred out of the hell hole they’d put me in. I visited the asylum too, and that’s how their records read now, so no one’s looking for me any more.”

He laughed. “Is that all you did? I mean what about the sheeple?”

“Mostly sorting themselves out.”

“And Harvey and Alison?”

“Repentant, and now no longer under any compulsion. Harvey’s equipment will never work properly again and Alison’s going to have to work hard to get anything of her figure back, but...”

“So you forgave them?”

“It’s hard to keep hating people once they’ve stopped being arseholes.”

“An evil person might not agree.”

“You’re telling me you’re okay with all this?”

“No, not at all, but after what they did to you I can understand why you reacted as you did. We all have some shit in our past we’re not proud of, and I suppose I wouldn’t understand about your ability so well if you hadn’t shared your experiences. I can see it was hard for you to do.”

“So, where does this leave us?”

“I’m not sure. You’re going to have to give me some time to process all this. I mean, before today I would never have suspected you had been born male.”

“That bothers you?”

“Sure. I mean you were a guy, so you should be able to see it from my point of view.”

“Well, kind of debatable whether or not I was ever a guy. I mean, sure I have the Y chromosome and everything that goes with it, and I guess I remember enough about living as a boy to understand how my having been one might make you feel, but up here,” Carrie tapped the side of her head, “I’ve always been a girl. My parents didn’t want to believe that, which was why they sent me to that outdated quack who tried to convince me I wasn’t. I did mention how miserably he failed, and what I did to him, didn’tI?”

“Yes. I’m surprised you didn’t make things right with him.”

“Oh, but I did. As much as I could, anyway. It wasn’t easy because they’ve upped their security and I can’t hide from cameras, I may have said.”

“You did mention it, yeah. What did you do.”

“What any woman would under the circumstances. I made myself look like someone else. Temporary hair dye, a little makeup, a little padding, then a bit of a metal push with the staff to get them to accept my fake ID.”

“Fake ID?”

“Visiting psychiatrist specialising in rapid onset psychosis. They took me to see him straight away.

“As soon as we were alone, I projected an appearance of myself as I’d been the last time he’d seen me.”

“And?”

“And he smoothed out his little girl dress and sat on one side of the table, indicating that I should sit opposite him. Then he went into a repeat of every once of our sessions over the twelve years I was under his treatment. He told me I was deluding myself, that I wasn’t a woman and that I should use my evidently powerful will to convince myself I was a man.”

“I’m guessing that upset you.”

“Saddened me more like. It meant he wasn’t willing to change. I did ask if he wanted me to take away his need to wear little girl dresses and he said he liked wearing dresses. I told him I could make it so that he would like wearing suits again and he repeated that he liked to wear dresses. I said the only reason he did was because I had pushed the compulsion onto him and that if he let me take it away, he could go back to being a psychiatrist. A lousy one, though I didn’t tell him that. He started to cry and begged for me not to take away his love of pretty things.”

“So?”

“So I didn’t. I left him as he was. He was utterly content, even if it did mean he remained a patient rather than a doctor. That turns out to be a bonus as it keeps him from ruining anyone else’s life with his outdated ideas.

“I apologised to the doctor on duty, said something about not being able to do much for someone who didn’t want to change, spent a little time with the records updating my own, then left.”

“So back to you and being a girl. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that sort of thing you know? Man on the outside, girl on the inside. It’s become something of a cliché.”

“Yeah. Anything will if it’s repeat often enough, and it’s real enough to a lot of people, so it’s being repeated a lot these days.”

“The current administration doesn’t seem to believe it’s real.”

“The current administration doesn’t believe in global warming or evolution. They probably wouldn’t believe the world was round if they didn’t have that fascist rocket man telling them otherwise.”

“You know, if you were going to go around forcing people to believe things they didn’t want to, that would be a great place to start.”

“Is that what you think I should do? Force people to believe something they don’t want to? I mean, I could. The real question is should I?”

“Why’re you asking me?”

“Because I’m worried having the power to do stuff like that will end up distorting my judgement. You know that saying, ‘power corrupts’?”

“’And absolute power corrupts absolutely.’ We were just talking about the current administration, weren’t we?”

“Yeah, only I’m more concerned about me. Just because I have the ability to change the way someone thinks and behaves doesn’t give me the right do so. I’ve already been tempted to mess a few people up just because they were acting like dicks. How long’s it going to be before I start doing things just for fun?”

“How bad would that be?”

“I don’t know, let’s say, instead of just getting him to tell the truth, I’d made our mayor break wind every time he told a lie, or maybe shit himself? Or – you know that saying about being able to tell when a politician is lying because his lips are moving? So why not make it so he shits himself every time he opens his mouth? Or maybe I could make it so that he only ever spoke through his ass. I don’t know if that’s possible, but it might be fun to see someone try. Or maybe every time he takes a golf swing he ends up throwing his club at the nearest person, or pisses himself every time he puts a ball in a hole. Pisses and shits himself if he gets a birdie, throws up as well if he manages an eagle. Do you see how easily it escalates if I have nothing to hold me back?”

“It sounds like you’re saying you want me to act as your conscience?”

“I’m saying I need someone to do just that, Josh. Someone whose judgement I trust. I can see you doing a great job.”

“You hardly know me.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, surprise me.”

“Things like how hard you worked yesterday to get people to come to the meeting. Like how gentle and generous you are with the other folks in the town. Like how you hold back and wait for an explanation rather than thinking the worst of someone when they act like a total ass.”

“I didn’t with the mayor.”

“The mayor has given us all enough reason to doubt him. I remember you defending him the first couple of times he tried screwing us.

“Then there’s the way you are around me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His face reddened a little.

“No need to pretend otherwise Josh. I kind of squeezed it out of you by mistake earlier. The thing is you seem so unsure, like you don’t believe you deserve someone like me.”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m not the sort of person you’d wish on your worst enemy.”

“Not what I meant. All those kind things you said about me, I could just as easily say about you.”

“So maybe we’re not such a bad fit for each other after all?”

“What if I were to give you advice you don’t like?”

“It’s not so much about whether or not I like it, rather whether or not it’s right.”

“So what if I gave you advice that fed your megalomania?”

“Well, I guess that would be on you as much as on me if I took it.”

“And what if we got together then broke up, and you went after someone or if spite?”

“My super ex-girlfriend sort of thing?”

“Yeah, kinda?”

“Well, you’d be safe from me.”

“Not much of a consolation if my new girlfriend started behaving like a chicken.”

“I guess there’s no way I could protect you against that. I don’t see you cheating on me though?”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I might still break up with you though. People fall out of love as often as into it.”

“I always thought they were the ones who didn’t commit to the relationship. If all you’re interested in is what you can get out of a relationship, then you’re going to grow tired of it. If you’re all about what you can put into it, then that’s never going to happen.”

“I guess there’s that. Okay, enough. I need to think things through, and that’ll be easier on a clear head. Can I walk you home?”

“That would be kind of you.”

Carrie slipped her arm through the crook of his elbow and allowed herself to be led. She’d talked herself out and he rarely had much to say, so they walked back to her place in silence, at which point he kissed her on the cheek, doffed his hat and walked off into the evening.

The next morning she woke with the dawn and went through her usual routine. It started off with standing naked in front of the mirror and willing all the improvements she still wanted. Chief among these was a uterus, but she’s been working on that for nearly a year so far with no apparent effect. It seemed she was going to have to book a holiday in Thailand after all. She’d kept enough of the sheeple money in reserve against the eventuality, but it still came as a disappointment that she couldn’t find a way to grow her own, as it were.

The rest looked pretty amazing. Her breasts looked natural, even to the extent of having larger areolae. Her penis and testicles had completely withdrawn back into her body leaving just an empty scrotal sac. Unsightly for now, but easily hidden and of potential use to the surgeon in creating a faux vagina.

She washed and dressed, did a few vaguely magical things with hairspray and makeup and smiled at the very real reflection looking back at her.

She wondered how long it would take Josh to make up his mind. She knew better than to push him for an answer and resolved to be patient.

She locked the door and turned to find him standing there.

“So,” he said, “I understand there’s a dance this weekend at the town hall. I wondered if you might care to accompany me.”

“I’d be delighted. You’ve decided you’re okay with everything I told you yesterday?”

“Not all the way, not yet, but I figure I have to start somewhere, and this seems like as good a place as any. I don’t suppose you could convince me you always were a woman?”

“I’ve been a girl for as long as I can remember Josh.”

“No, I mean use your magical super powers or something.”

She smiled. “You’d know if I tried to get you to believe something, and you’d be able to undo it. It would be better if I convinced you the normal way.”

“Yeah, it’s just...”

“You have a strong mind, Josh. You can overcome your prejudices if you choose to.” She gave him the gentlest of pushes.

He felt it – she knew he would – but he’d heard her words and decided there was nothing but good behind them. He let her will give her a nudge in a direction he already wanted to go.

“You know, I guess it doesn’t matter. I only see a beautiful woman, and I’m pretty sure everyone else does too. Can I walk you up to the café?”

She linked arms with him by way of an answer, and they walked up the hill in companionable silence. At least until they were most of the way there.

“So,” Josh said while Carrie dug in her handbag for her keys, “when should we plan our trip to the White House?”