Sometimes Happily Ever After Needs a little work... and strawberries.

Vikings 2
Chinese 1
By Jesse Rabbit

Kara and Mei have taken the first steps towards being together, but life is seldom that simple. Before they can have their Happily Ever After, there will be tears, there will be violence, and oh yes, there will be blood.

---

 

To quote Katie Perry and Jill Sobule, “I kissed a girl”

It was electric. It was also both the most wonderful and most horrific thing I’d ever done in my life. Look, I’m no homophobe… seriously, I’m perfectly accepting of it... homosexuality… in others. But, up until New Years Eve of my freshman year, I’d been as likely to kiss another girl as I had been to kiss a goat… i.e. give me enough tequila and dare me to do it and I’d probably do it. But I wasn’t drunk… not even a little. What I was was freaking out.

As we kissed, and this was no simple peck but a full lip lock (no tongue) that went on and on and on until the giggling and or applause of my family finally intruded, I felt flush with excitement, power, strength. It was such a rush to hold my beautiful tiny China doll in my arms and let the rest of the world just melt away. Then reality hit and our lips slipped apart and while Mei hung from my neck and several of my brothers and male cousins wolf-whistled, I felt heat rising through my body and my knees go weak. I carefully set Mei down and smiled at her, then, after several tries, managed to get out a very shaky “Happy New Year!” before slumping into the nearest chair.

My eleven year old cousin Rebecca handed me a glass of what I though was sparkling cider until I’d downed half of it and discovered it to be champaign. I coughed and she smiled. “Yer momma told me ta give ya that. Said you’d need it.” And then she leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. “I gotta go ta bed now. Night night, Kay.” And she scampered off. My mastiff, Duchess, stuck her nose into my glass and tried to lick up some of the bubbly but I managed to get it away from her just in time.

Mei came over with her own glass of bubbly and, without asking, flopped into my lap. “We should talk.” I nodded. “Soon,” she added. I nodded again. “That will require you to form words with your mouth.” I groaned and tickled her, then slumped back in my chair.

“Why didn’t you say anything… you know, before?” I asked, my arm over my eyes.

“Like what?” she asked, voice small but not timid.

“I…” I opened my mouth, no doubt to say something stupid, when I felt a shadow move across the light. I moved my arm a bit and looked up into the face of my father. He looked upset. I closed my mouth with a snap.

“Kitchen… now.”

My blood went cold. Those words were code for, “You are about to get a talking to, young lady.” I stood, taking Mei with me, then set her gently on the floor. I patted her on the head, catching a nervous expression on her face out of the corner of my eye, but I followed my dad without another word to anyone.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea out of a stoneware mug that’s been in the family for two centuries and looking just as calm as cream. She raised an eyebrow at… well, it could have been either my father or me, it was hard to tell, then took another sip before setting her mug down.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Our girl here lied to us, that’s what’s up,” my dad half thundered. Its an amazing skill that, the ability to boom and rage, but still keep your voice down so as not to let everyone in the house know someone is in trouble.

“Oh?” mom said, cool as the moon.

“That girl out there isn’t just her friend! They’re…” Dad trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Dad’s not good with the fact that any of his daughters are sexually active. I’m not kidding, I think he still is in denial that my elder sister, Linda, who’s got three kids and a fourth on the way, has ever had sex.

“And?” mom asked, still as unruffled as a newly made bed.

“And?” Dad thundered (only quietly). “AND!?”

Mom tilted her head at him and gave him one of those looks that said, “What are you going on about you great lumbering male, you?” Finally she spoke, “Your own sister is a lesbian and you have a problem with your daughter being one?”

I blushed and looked at the floor, trying desperately to figure out what to say, or if I should say anything. I still hadn’t figured out my own feelings yet and already I was being labeled. I liked, probably even loved Mei. She was wonderful, perfect, a cheerful, sensitive, caring little goof… who loved me. But was she what I wanted. Were we right for each other. Could I really forsake men (and their fun little bits and musky smell and hairy chests and strong arms) for a tiny little thing who smelled of oil paint and had more curves than me? I was pondering all that when dad said something that totally derailed my trail of thought.

“I’m not mad about that. I’m mad about being lied to! These last few, what is it days? Weeks? Months? Its all been, “My friend Mei this, and My roommate Mei that. No, Mom, Dad, this is Mei. We’re together and I love her.” I looked up at Dad, who stood there, fists clenched, back bowed with some nameless emotion. He looked at me, eyes full of what I suddenly realized was shame and guilt. “Why didn’t you tell us, punkin?”

I didn’t say anything for what seemed like forever, then suddenly I was across the room and hugging him. He felt somehow small, like he’d folded in on himself and I realized that he’d thought that I’d been keeping it a secret because I was afraid to tell him. I kissed him on the cheek and then swatted him gently upside the head. “You aren’t Grandpa… I know you aren’t Grandpa. You are an idiot. But you aren’t a hateful old man who’d disown his own daughter for being in love.”

If you’ve ever seen footage of an iceberg crumbling into the sea, that was what it was like watching my dad… in a good way. All the tension went out of him and he seemed to swell before my eyes, taking on more substance and unfolding as he relaxed. He slumped against the counter and drained a glass of champaign in one gulp. “Then why?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t know until just now. We-“ but before I could explain, I was cut off by a snort from my mother. I glanced over at her.

“Pull the other one,” she said with a knowing smirk.

“No, really! I didn’t even know Mei was…” I paused, thinking about how to say what I wanted to say without saying things I wasn’t sure were true… at least not yet. “I didn’t even know Mei had feelings for me until a couple of hours ago… and I didn’t know I had feelings for her until about twenty minutes ago.”

If you had hit my mother with a taser I doubt she could have looked more stunned. “You didn’t? But honey…” she trailed off, clearly not wanting to pry.

“Go on mom, spit it out.”

“But honey, the way you spoke of her on the phone… and the way you dote on her… I was pretty sure even before you showed up… and you two have slept together every-“ Dad cleared his throat loudly, cutting her off. I was grateful, since if my blush had gotten any deeper my head would have exploded. She looked up at me, eyes full of concern. “You really didn’t know?” I shook my head. “Oh. Are you okay with it?”

I nodded. It wasn’t even a lie. I was okay, confused, nervous, freaking out, totally out of my depth and area of comfort, but okay. Its like when you’re loosing in volley ball and you fall down. The coach asks if you’re okay and you say, “Yeah coach, lets get em!” and hop back into the game. You mean, “Yeah I’m alright” even though really you are also totally upset and trying to figure out how to get back on track. Life, I’ve learned, is funny that way.

***

The party wrapped up not long after that and we all headed off to our various rooms for the night. Mom announced that anyone who woke up before she did could grab a light breakfast, but not to eat too much since lunch was going to be one last blow out before people started heading out to get home. I held my tongue, carefully not commenting on the inadvisability of giving people a huge meal before sending them out onto iced over roads where they would no doubt have their heaters running. Food + heat = drowsy driver may be basic math, but so is annoying smartass daughter + foot + mouth = mean mom glare + dish washing duty.

Mei was practically giddy as she bounced up the stairs and flopped onto my… our bed. She kicked her feet and smiled, almost shyly at me. I shut the door, just in time as Mutton, our largest and by far stupidest mastiff, tried to come in. He scratched at the door for a few seconds before snuffling off down the hallway towards one of my brother’s rooms.

I leaned back against the door and, smiling a somewhat sardonic smile, regarded Mei… who could, and no doubt would be delighted to be my Mei. I chuckled at that thought and she grinned, then grabbed one of my pillows and hugged it, looking small and defenseless but not particularly worried.

“You aren’t gay,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

I said and did nothing.

“Its okay. That’s why I didn’t say anything. I knew. I mean, I’d been attracted to you from the start, but I always thought me and Lin-dai-yu would get back together, after college. I knew I was fooling myself. She…” she swallowed, a tear coming to her eye, and I ached to go to her and to wipe it away, maybe to kiss it away, to keep her safe from the pain… but I couldn’t move. It wasn’t my place, not right now. This was her time, her story, I couldn’t take that away from her.

“We were friends in… I think you call it middle-school… six, maybe seven years ago. And her father got transferred to Hong Kong. We cried when she left and we promised to write all the time… and we did, for five years. Then her father got transferred back and we were even better friends. We would stay up late talking about everything. One night we kissed.” Another tear joined the first and she closed her eyes in memoriam. “We were together for a year, almost, and we’d talked about going to school in California, far away from our parents and their traditionalist ways. I have an Aunt who lives in San Francisco. Then her neighbor saw us holding hands at a café and told her father… who told my father. There was…” she swallowed. “There was a lot of screaming. We had dishonored them, dishonored our families, dishonored our ancestors, dishonored China and the Gods and Buddha and ourselves. Her father hit her. He…” She hugged the pillow and wept, hunched over, back shaking, and my fingers dug into my palms as I held myself rigidly against the door. Everything was out of focus except her and my body, my heart, my soul all screamed for me to go to her. But I wouldn’t. It wasn’t the right time, because… I couldn’t say why, but something told me it wasn’t. Something was missing, some key which would free me to act.

Finally she raised her head, grabbed a tissue from my nightstand, and blew her nose. In a calmer but more ragged voice she continued. “He beat her so bad that even my father felt moved to step in. The police came and arrested him. The ambulance came and took her to the hospital. I… I never saw her again. Never heard from her again. The hospital had orders not to let me see her and when she got out she was sent to… to another hospital. In the country, for those who have mental problems.” She hugged herself, “And my parents sent me to the States, where I would not embarrass them. Taiwain is… well, its more liberal that most of Asian… more liberal even than most of America in many ways… but those parts of our country who are conservative are very, very conservative. My parents are among them.” She smiled, although it was not a happy smile. “They are so conservative that they don’t hate the Communists because they are anti-democratic. They hate the Communists because they want the Emperor back.”

She sighed, then continued, voice lighter. “Then my mom came, and it was bad, and she tried, for three days, to talk me out of being a lesbian, tried to convince me that if I married a nice boy, one of my father’s employee’s sons, that I would see that it was just a phase, and then I could come home and we’d be a family again. I told her, as you Americans say, where to stick it. She wasn’t amused. So she got ready to go, assured me that my father would continue to pay for my schooling, and for an apartment over the summer and that when I graduated they wanted me to disappear and never bother them again… unless I repented and married a nice Chinese boy. But until then I wasn’t to embarrass them any more with my perversions. And then, just before she left, she told me Lin had killed herself. That was all.”

I ground my teeth together, wanting in that moment to fly to Taiwan and rip out Mei’s mother’s throat with my bared teeth and then spit in her face as she slowly asphyxiated on her own blood. As I struggled through the red rage, Mei continued.

“I’d been attracted to you from the start, and loved you at that moment when you carried my mother out of the room. Then you comforted me and I needed you, but told myself it was just a rebound, just desperation, so I kept quiet. But you were so wonderful, and I found myself wanting to be with you more and more. I was happy, and scared. What if I scared you off, if you left me, if you wanted nothing to do with the little Chinese pervert. So I was happy just to be with you for as long as I could… then you invited me to your wonderful… and frigid home… and your Aunt’s lover talked to me… I’d never talked to another… an older… I’d never admitted… it was as if she could see into my soul, into my heart, and she helped me. She said… well, a lot of things, but mostly she said that you’d never run from me. That running wasn’t in the Kant gene-pool. That your parents had raised you to be a good, and decent, and wonderful person. She said that I should tell you. She said, maybe you’d return my feelings, that most likely you wouldn’t, but that you’d never stop being my friend, not because of this… probably not for any reason. She said you had a good heart and a good head, and not a hateful bone in your body.” I winced at that, cause I really, really hated her parents right at that moment, but I still said nothing.

“I love you,” she said, in English, then in Chinese. “With all of my heart, I love you, Kara Kant, my Supergirl, my Viking Warrior.” She paused, swallowed hard, then continued. “And I don’t mind if you don’t love me back.”

I knew she was lying, that she was being brave. It didn’t take a mind reader. Hell, it would have taken a moron not to know. I also knew that this was the moment, the moment of decision. Maybe not a for the rest of my life would be shaped by kind of moment, but the moment the rest of my life could be shaped by. I could tell her I loved her and everything would change, in the blink of an eye. I could tell her I wanted us to be friends but nothing more, and less would change. In time we would be just that, and I’d find a boy and she’d find a girl and we’d be BFF. But was that what I wanted. If I loved her, it didn’t have to be forever. Only a fool thinks love always lasts. If I didn’t love her… that was forever. That door, a possible future with Mei, with my Mei, would be gone, closed, never to reopen.

Slowly, I moved towards the bed. I brushed the hair back from her eyes, those grey eyes that held so much joy and so much pain and so much hope. I didn’t want to shut that door. I didn’t know if I could be the woman… the person… Mei needed me to be. I didn’t know if I’d be happy, giving up men. Sure, any relationship meant giving up the chance to have sex with most of the rest of the population… but this… Could I be happy? Was an emotional connection, even one this overwhelmingly wonderful, was it enough to make up for the lack of a sexual connection? Was I being shallow? I shook my head, trying to clear it, but a flash of pain crossed Mei’s expression as she took it for rejection.

In that moment I knew. I wanted to be with Mei. I wanted her to be mine. Maybe it would last, maybe it wouldn’t, but I’d never forgive myself for not taking this chance, for being too afraid to change, for taking the safe way out. I leaned forward, slowly pressing Mei back on the bed, and for the second time, I kissed her.

It was wonderful… no shame, no embarrassment, no fear. I gathered her in my arms and held her for several endless minutes. Then I kissed her again and rose from the bed. I looked down at her tiny, breathless form and smiled. “You need to wash your face, its all icky and streaky.” She laughed, tried to kick me in the leg, then threw the pillow at me.

We slept in each others arms that night, and that was wonderful too. I’d never been the pillow, well, I had been but never while cuddling, and it gave me a sense of completion like none I’d ever known. I felt strong, like my arms were walls to keep Mei safe, to protect everything that mattered most to me. I felt like a warrior, one who’d battled long and come home to the woman who loved him. I felt like a man… and it was good.

***

Things changed slowly after that. We touched a little more, we slept in the same bed even once we got back to school, and our time together became dates. My schedule was open a great deal more, since the Volley Ball season was over. We still had practices and scheduled workout times, since the coaches didn’t want us loosing our edge with all those months between games, but it wasn’t the same. So Mei and I were together more often. Of course, I had a heavier course load in the winter semester, but even then we had two classes together. And I’d signed up for Professor Norn’s Gender Studies 201… and Professor Malus’s European History: The Dark Ages. Last, I decided to take Chinese, since I had to have a language anyway, and the school didn’t offer Hebrew or Norwegian, both of which I speak fluently and I’d had enough Spanish in high school, thank you very much.

Mei’s friends accepted me into their circle like a group of poodle fanciers welcomes a mastiff. Sure, it’s a dog, and the owner says it won’t bite, but you never can be completely certain, now can you. My teammates were more than welcoming to Mei, but if I felt like a giant among her friends, the tallest of whom was 5’7”, it was even worse for Mei, since I was tied for the tallest girl on the team while Mei was the undisputed shortest of her group. That, and my teammates persisted in calling Mei “Cute” which is, apparently, a four letter word in any language.

Still, as I said, Mei’s friends welcomed me in, with, if not good grace, then not too much fuss. I don’t know if they were more annoyed because I was too tall or too white, or maybe that I spoke only about three dozen words of broken Chinese… at least at first. Still, none of them seemed to have a problem with our relationship. They simply accepted that we were together and that was that.

Once a week, we went out for Chinese, and I know all Jews are supposed to love Chinese, but I’d never been a big fan of stir fry or noodles. Mei just laughed when I told her that, then smiled and said, “That’s not Chinese food. Most of that was invented in America. Come on, you’ll like it.”

I grumbled, sounding very much, I realized, like my dad when my mom tries anything experimental in the kitchen, but let my diminutive girlfriend drag me off to my doom. That night I discovered the joy of Dim Sum. If you’ve never had it, its like an endless stream of appetizers, some of them familiar (like potstickers and barbeque spareribs) and others totally new (like curried squid, chicken feet, and pork buns). It was surprisingly good, even though Mei’s friends, especially this one boy named Gui who was extremely and flamboyantly… lets say happy… kept trying to convince to eat some of the whole (as in with heads and shells still on) shrimp. Now, I might not keep kosher, except at home, but no way am I going to eat seafood shell and all… urg.

Most of the conversation that evening was in Chinese, and I caught Mei glowering at one of the others more than once, leading me to suspect that some whitegirl bashing was going on, but Mei just smiled when I asked and I didn’t push her. On the way home, she pretended to have eaten too much and demanded a piggyback ride. I shook my head, but acquiesced.

She scrambled up me like a squirrel going after the last acorn of summer, then wrapped her arms round my neck and shouted “Ridem Cowgirl!”

I threatened to drop her in the nearest body of water if she yelled like that again, so she nibbled my ear and said “Sowwwweeeeee.” I shook my head again, firmed my grip on her thighs, and headed off across campus.

“Mei?” I asked as we passed the library.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay that we don’t… you know…” I felt heat rising in my face as I waited for her answer.

“Speak the same language?”

“Nooo… that we never-“

“Go shopping in NYC?”

I growled at her. “Look you little goof, I’m trying to be serious here!” but I was smiling nonetheless.

“I am serious. I’d love to go to New York. Or Paris. Museums, fashion, snooty people with accents too thick to be understood.” I squeezed her thighs and she squeaked, then leaned in and nuzzled my neck. “I’m patient. I don’t want… or need… to rush you Kay. We’ll… you know… when you’re ready. And if we don’t, we don’t. As long as I get to play with your titties, I’m good.”

I flushed crimson, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard, but the nearest other person was sixty feet away and talking into a cellphone. “You… you’ve never… I…”

“Can I?” she asked in a slightly weedling voice, her breath shivering across my ear. I almost dropped her, my skin breaking into goosebumps and tingles racing up my spine. My mouth was suddenly very dry. I think I managed to wheeze out something, but at that moment I was saved by the appearance of one of UH’s finest, in the form of Officer Pohaku.

“Aloha girls, out late I see?” he said in that oh-so-sexy way that native Hawai’ians say everything. That he was in his mid-to-late twenties, built like a swimmer, and had overly large hands was all gravy on the side of that gorgeous face. Every girl in my dorm… except Mei and this girl Meredith (who wasn’t gay but rather too feminist to actually like men… or, as she put it, the Oppressors of Eve’s Daughters and Despoilers of Nature) had a little crush on Officer Tom Pohaku… including me.

I tried to answer, but Mei, who’s throat was not Saharan, peeked over my shoulder and waved, her other arm choking me slightly. “Hiheeee!” she squealed as I half dropped her. She slid to the ground, then bounced around me. She slammed her heels together and stood ramrod straight, then saluted. “Just getting back from supper, Skipper. All’s quiet on the northern front.”

What can I say, I noogied her and she squealed, then ran off towards the door, going “Help, help! I’s bein’ chased… oh lawdy!” but not very loudly or very fast.

I favored the officer a smile and he smiled back, shrugged, and said, “Well, night tall girl, better go catch your friend.”

I didn’t hurry, but still managed to catch up with Mei before she’d managed to get half-way to the dorm. Then again, her legs are like three inches long or something.

“You are a goof,” I said as I caught up to her. She was walking tightrope along the edge of a low stone wall, which made her just slightly taller than me. It was a novel sensation, but somehow made me uneasy. I reached out, tugged her off the wall, and caught her in my arms as she fell, squeaking in surprise.

“That wasn’t nice!” she pouted.

“Neither was trying to choke me,” I said without rancor. I set her down and shoved my hands into my pockets. “Come on, lets get back, its late.”

Later, as we snuggled in what had once been the bed on my side of the room (her bed had been disassembled, the mattress shoved under our bed, and the frame carried down to storage, thus freeing up the other side of the room for an easel, a tv, and a mini-fridge.) I held her spooned against me, my nose in her hair. “Were you serious?”

“Mmmm?” she groaned, obviously almost asleep.

“About… about waiting.”

“Oh,” she said in that tiny, almost not there way she sometimes has. “Well… yeah. Of course.”

“Why?”

“Uh…” she squirmed around until she could face me, our noses almost touching on the pillow. “Why am I willing to wait?” She sounded slightly incredulous. I nodded dumbly and she kissed the tip of my nose. “Because I love you.”

“Well duh!” I said, trying to hide my confusion and unease behind sarcasm, which, you know, always works… not!

“I’m serious. I’m not in lust with you, you big galoop!”

“Its galoot,” I said, smirking in the gloom.

“Whatever!” I could tell she was pouting again, so I tickled her sides just a little.

“I’m serious Mei. This is serious. I mean, we sleep together, we make out all the time… well, we kiss a lot.”

“And sometimes you fondle my butt,” she said cheekily.

“And sometimes I fondle your butt,” I acceded. “But we’ve never gone any farther. Its… Look, I’m not complaining. To be honest, taking the next step, let alone the steps that come after… it scares the crap out of me. But I hear all the time about couples breaking up ‘cause one or the other partner doesn’t… you know… put out.”

Mei snuggled against me, pressing her nose into my neck, and sighed. “Well, I’m not them.” And then she said something so quietly that I could only tell she was talking from the feel of her words against my throat.

“What?”

I’m pretty sure she repeated herself, but I still couldn’t hear her.

“Mei? What’s wrong?”

She sniffled and hugged me tighter and, after a moment, I sighed and hugged her back. I was used to this by now. Something would make her think of her old girlfriend and she’d cry for a little and I’d hold her. I… I think I sound a little callous there, but nothing could be further from the truth. She was sad, and had a right to be, and someday, soon god willing, she would be able to think about the girl who had been and not remember the way it had ended. Until then I was there to hold her. It was as it should be.

Eventually, Mei stopped crying and drifted off to sleep… or so I thought. I was almost in la-la land myself when she pulled back from me, grabbed a tissue, and dabbed at my neck, then blew her nose and snuggled back against me. I couldn’t see her face clearly, but I could tell she was smiling. It was a rueful, almost regretful, smile, but no longer sad.

“We never… we hadn’t… Lin and I never got further than fondling… under the clothes but over the bra fondling.”

“Oh. OH!” I sounded like an idiot. “So…”

“Yup.”

“You’ve never…”

“Not ever. Not even one little finger.”

“Right… I’m such a slut.”

“Yup!” she agreed, far too cheerfully. I was forced to tickle her into submission.

***

“How many of you,” Professor Norn asked, “Have ever heard of Polygamy?” Most of the class raised their hands. “How many have ever heard of Polyandry?” Most of the hands went down. “Did you know,” she continued, “That in ancient Mesopotamia, the men felt themselves so oppressed by the women, that they made a law stating that any woman who had more than one husband could have her teeth smashed out with a brick?” There were many gasps and a few chuckles. It was a balmy 88 degrees that day in early February, which might explain why I was wearing a swimsuit in class… what it did not explain was why I was wearing a mens swimsuit, one of those long, almost cargopants looking things with the mesh inner lining and the drawstring.

After our return from the frozen north, my wardrobe had continued its slow, almost languid slide into the unfashionable realm of men’s clothing. Sure, no one really looked twice at me, but like they would if I were a guy wearing a frock. These days women can pretty much wear anything they want without alarms going off and people pointing and staring. Still, I’d taken to shopping exclusively in the men’s departments… except for underwear. Smallchested I might be, but flat I am not… but there too my choice of support helped make me more masculine, not less. Rather than looking for the augmentation of Victoria’s Secret, I stocked up on sports bras and plain jane white cotton panties… not grannies, but certainly closer to tidy-whities than a thong.

I bought new sunglasses, a new watch, new running shoes (although rather than buy men’s shoes I found a pair in the women’s section that looked almost identical to one in the men’s… foot care is serious shit.) and even started wearing my hair in a low ponytail, the kind that bikers and cowboys sometimes have. I’d briefly flirted with the idea of cutting it, but it fit my Viking demeanor to have long hair, and if they could do it, so could I. As I settled more and more into this strange new me, I found myself buying shampoos that smelled less fruity, body washes that smelled spicier rather than feminine, and switching over to odorless deodorant.

Mei watched my slow transformation with a mixture of pride and barely contained glee, and she used every opportunity to remind me, in as light and perky a fashion as possible, that I was still female… even as I tried to become a Man. She’d pick up cute plushies (awww). or puppy calendars (awww), or floral print sheets (yerg), and offer them up to me, a bright, half crazed smile on her face. I bought some of them, but insisted that plain blue or green or grey (not pink) cotton sheets would be fine… although we did splurge and get some really nice Egyptian stuff that felt smooth as a baby’s butt.

“That concludes our lecture for the day, ladies and gentlemen,” the Professor said. “If you would be so kind as to remember to bring your money for the tickets on Wednesday, I’d appreciate it. And remember, the movie starts at midnight, so everyone be there on time. Those of you who’ve seen it before, feel free to dress up and or sing along. Boys if you are dressing as Frank, do wear something over your outfit, at least in public.” And with that she strode into her office and out of sight.

I waited as the room emptied, steeling myself. I had questions that needed answering, questions I’d begun asking myself and Mei. She’d suggested the Internet, but I was leery of such an impersonal (and fallible) tool, at least in this regard. I wanted a more personal approach, I’d told Mei. If I was going to figure out my own sense of identity, I really needed to talk to someone about me, not about some abstract other. And it needed to be with someone I knew, someone I trusted. So Mei’d suggested Professor Norn. I’d almost smacked myself for not thinking of it, but then I had to be honest with myself. I’d discounted her because she was old, because she was a teacher not a peer. But still, she was the obvious choice. If she couldn’t help me, maybe she could put me on the right track.

As the last of the class filed out, I squared my shoulders, firmed my jaw, and marched down the risers to the Professor’s office, heart pounding as if I were single handedly invading Scottland. I hardened my resolve as I neared the door, unwilling to allow even a trace of hesitation in my actions. Vikings didn’t hesitate, they were bold, fierce, mighty. They didn’t pause in front of wooden doors afraid to knock.

I knocked.

“Come in,” the professor’s voice chimed.

I opened the door. “Can I have a word, Professor?”

“Office hours aren’t until 5… and I have another class in 45 minutes…” she paused, tilted her head and looked at me for a very, very, very long moment. “Yeeees,” she almost sighed, “Why don’t you come in and have a seat, Miss Kant.”

“Umm, thanks,” I said, then flopped onto the half buried sofa. “I… Look, I’ve…” I fumbled for the words. I’d no idea how to start, what to say, or how to even phrase my plee. “I need some advice,” I finally managed

“I gathered,” the Professor said, voice calm but kind. “Those are men’s clothes.”

“Yes.”

“I thought I’d noticed you’d changed your… look. Are you a transvestite or a transsexual?”

I blinked at her. “A what… or a… you mean a drag queen?”

She chuckled. “Well, yes and no. Drag Queens are usually Transvestites, although some are pre-op transsexuals, but the terms are not fully congruous. But lets not get into male Transgender issues, shall we?” I nodded, serious confused.

“Alright. Hmm… Do you think of yourself as Male or Female?”

My kneejerk reaction was to blurt out that ‘of course’ I was female, but I paused, giving the matter a serious amount of thought. “Female… I don’t want a penis and I’m perfectly happy with my sex… I mean my biological… I mean, I’m perfectly happy with what I’ve got and don’t want to change that.”

“So… why do you dress as a Man? Are you afraid of your sexuality?”

“No! I mean… Well, the thing is I’m in a… a relationship with another woman. She’s great, a girl but not too girly. I still like guys too, so I guess I’m bi… or whatever… even though I haven’t been with one since Mei and I… I mean since we… started being together… well, and for a bit before that. I’m… I’m rambling.”

“Yes, you were. So why do you do it?”

“I like the way it makes me feel.”

“That is both true and an evasion.”

“I…”

“How does it make you feel?”

“Like…” my throat was suddenly dry and I had to whisper, “Excited… powerful… Man… Manly I guess.”

“Is it important to you to feel ‘Manly’?”

I nodded.

“Why?”

“I…”

“Yes?”

“I want to…”

“To…? To do or to be?” She tilted her head at me, eyes slightly narrowed. I felt as if she were looking through me.

“To be.”

“You want to be a Viking? To be a Warrior? A fighter slash protector slash provider?”

I nodded, stunned. “How…”

“Your project.”

“Right. Heh, silly me.”

“Indeed.”

“So?”

“You are not crazy, or mentally unbalanced, or any other diagnostic term… if that was your worry.”

“It wasn’t, but thanks… its just…” I paused, frowned, then grumbled, “I just don’t know why I couldn’t be happy being, you know, normal.”

She laughed. “There is no such thing. Look Miss Kant… Kara… I’m certain you’ve been told this before, but you can be anything you want to be… but what I’m also certain no one has ever told you before is that you never have to justify wanting to be it.” She stood, waving towards the door. “Now if you will excuse me, I really must get ready for my next class.”

I rose and moved towards the door as she turned back to her desk. I was just opening it when her hand grabbed my wrist. She was much stronger than she looked. “Remember, You should never apologize for being yourself. Its like the sky apologizing for rain or the sea for being stormy. You are what you are. But if you need help understanding that, here’s a number for a group that might be able to… anyway, off you go.” And off I went.

***

I did look at the card. It was for a support group. I thought about it… thought about calling… then shrugged and threw it away. If I really needed support, I had Mei. I had friends, and I had my parents and Aunt Maggie and Sandy. If I was really so weak that I needed to hide from my family and seek help from a bunch of strangers, then I was no Viking. I’d work my way through this until I found a me that I liked and understood.

I shared my decision and the details of the meeting with Mei and she shrugged, then snuggled into my lap and said, “Let me paint you.”

“Why?”

“Cause I want to look at you all nekkid and sexy.”

“Umm.” I thought about it, then shrugged. “Are you serious, or are you just being… well, you?”

“Well, both. I want to paint you, and I want to see you naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked loads of times. We change in front of each other pretty much every day… we’ve even showered together.”

“S’diff’rent.” She was blushing.

“How so?”

“Cause I never really looked. I mean sure, I looked. I peeked, I even ogled once or twice way back at the beginning of the year. But I’ve never really looked.”

It was my turn to blush. “All… alright. When do you want to do this?”

She thought about that for a long time, then squirm free of my arms and hopped up. “After we go shopping!” she crowed.

“Shopping?”

“Shopping!”

“Stop repeating the word. What are we shopping for?”

“A lamp, a red silk scarf, some whipped cream, some strawberries, and some chocolate syrup.”

“Dare I ask why?”

“Nope, you just get to carry the bags.”

I had a bad feeling about this… but my curiousity, as it so often does, got the better of me… Besides, who ever heard of a Viking who was afraid of strawberries…