The Girls of Summer: 5

 

As Hunter, with the support of most of his family, begins to become more accepting of
his situation, his father, Bob, is having problems coming to terms with losing his son.

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Author's Note: Your support is a wonderful inspiration for me.
I look forward to any comments you might have to offer.~Clara.
 
This version of The Girls of Summer: 5 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

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Chapter 5
 

Bob held a tiny shoe in his hands. The shoe itself wasn't all that tiny, but the lack of leather that formed the top of the shoe, made it look tiny. It had a small toe box section and a raised section above the one inch, tapered heel. Other than that, there was just a thin leather strap that crossed the wearer's foot, just in front of the ankle.

He looked at his wife, a bit disgusted. "This is a shoe for my son to wear?"

Joyce rolled her eyes at her husband. "Yes, Bob, and I suggest that you get used to it. I don't know how to deal with this situation other than to encourage Hunter to embrace it and be proud of himself."

"Yeah," he said, but the shoe was such a feminine shoe! "I thought buying the pink sneakers last week was a big step," he said, shaking his head. "This isn't a step. This is a leap."

"So is the dress," Joyce pointed out, "and he needs to be prepared to wear it on Saturday. That's why I sent the girls shopping with him at Savers. From here on, at least through the end of camp, if he's not wearing his softball gear or a bathing suit, he will be in a dress or a skirt. That's the only way he'll be able to cope at these two events."

Bob glanced from his wife to Veronica who sat beside her. "What if this was your son, Ronnie? Would you go this far?"

Veronica nodded. "Well... yes. I think Joyce is right. He can't hide in his room. He needs to embrace all of this. Bob, your son is changing - maybe forever. I think it's better for everyone if he accepts that. I think it'll help if you did as well."

He turned to his wife, again. "You're enjoying having another little girl, aren't you?"

"What?" Joyce was surprised by the question.

"Come on," Bob smiled a serpent's smile, trying to coax and answer from his wife that would allow him to go on an attack. "You loved doing all this mother/daughter stuff with Mary Ellen and now you get to relive all of that with my son..."

"Our son, Bob! Our son, Goddamnit!" Joyce snapped. "How many times are we going to have this conversation!?"

"Ok... OUR son, but... can you honestly sit there and tell me that you're not enjoying dressing Hunter up like he's your little doll?"

"Are you out of your mind, Robert? Do you seriously think I want that child to suffer the way that he is? Are you accusing me of something? Because if you are, I wish to God that you would just come out and say so."

"All I am saying," Bob said, shaking his head as if Joyce was the one who was being unreasonable, "is that you seem to be enjoying introducing Hunter to the world of feminine clothes... and hair... and everything else.'

"Bob, be fair," Veronica said. "I know this is none of my business, but you're acting as if all of this was Joyce's decision. Remember, I was the one who suggested softball camp, and I mentioned it to you, not Joyce. You thought this was a great idea when it was all about your little boy getting better at playing baseball, didn't you? But once it became complicated, you suddenly became a martyr."

"You're right," Bob said, causing both women to relax a bit. But then he continued, "This is none of your business." He stood and ran his hand through his hair. "Or maybe it's none of my business." He headed towards the front door.

Joyce looked at Veronica, then at Bob. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going out" he replied without turning.

"Out where?"

He turned. "I'm going to find some other men to be with before I find myself wearing a dress, too."

"Bob, come back here!" Joyce stood and watched in disbelief as the man she thought she knew as well as herself walked out the door and slammed it shut behind him.
 

~^~
 

"Legs together." "Sit straighter." "Cross your legs at the ankles." "Smooth your dress before you sit."

It was constant and exhausting, but apparently he was supposed to master all of these small skills before the party on Saturday. He was wearing what his mother called a floral print, handkerchief hem, casual dress. It was different than anything he'd seen Mary Ellen or Wanda trying on when they'd gone shopping. The sleeveless arm holes had a ruffled fringe on them. There was a shallow, scoop neck and the hem, which at times came close to his ankles and at other times sat well up on his thighs, represented a style known as a handkerchief hem. It also fit him incredibly loosely so that once it draped over his breasts, it kind of hung down loosely in front of him in a shapeless way that everyone seemed to refer to as 'adorable,' for some reason.

He thought it made him look like a pudgy child.

"Come to dinner, kids," Joyce called them to the table as she placed a platter of corn on the cob and a bowl of mashed potatoes on the table and Veronica placed platter of chicken she'd fried next to it.

"Sit up straight, Hunny," Mary Ellen instructed her stepbrother. "Young ladies have to have nice posture, especially when wearing a dress."

Hunter sighed and sat up straighter.

"There you go!" Joyce praised. "In a few days, this will all be second nature."

Sure it would.

"So... where's dad?" Hunter asked.

"He..." Joyce thought for a second. "... had to go into work."

"Late on a Sunday afternoon?" Hunter sounded skeptical.

Joyce's smile wavered for a second. "Yes... now... dig in."

Dinner was mostly silent. Bob's absence cast a pall on the evening.

When dinner was done, Hunter and Wanda helped Mary Ellen clear the table. At one point, while Hunter was near the sink and Wanda was near the table, Mary Ellen whispered something in Wanda's ear - this maneuver was something that both mother's saw. Wanda looked at Hunter for a second, then said, "Umm... hey, mom... would it be ok if we washed the dishes later? I'd really like to throw the ball around a little before it gets dark. My arm is feeling a little tight."

Veronica looked from her daughter to Mary Ellen who gave her a nod. "Oh... I guess that'd be ok," she said, "but remember to leave enough time to do the dishes before we have to leave."

"Thanks, mom!" Wanda said, then she grabbed Hunter by the hand. "Come on, Short Stuff. Let's go play catch."

Seconds later, they were on the patio, grabbing their softball gloves and a ball before heading out into the yard.

"What's that all about?" Joyce asked her daughter.

Mary Ellen sat down. "Where's dad?"

Joyce cleared her throat. "He's at..." the look on Mary Ellen's face told her that her daughter wasn't buying the story. "... I don't know. He said he was going out. That's all I know."

"Is this because he can't deal with Hunter's issues right now?" Mary Ellen asked with a serious tone.

"You knew about that?" Joyce asked, surprised by her daughter's question.

"Mom... he's been a basket case since Hunter put on his first bra."

Joyce sighed. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that?"

Mary Ellen smiled. "Would you mind if I talked to him when he gets home?"

Joyce returned her daughter's smile. "That's very sweet of you, Mae, but I think this is something I need to deal with."

"Look, mom... the way I see it... Dad isn't seeing the big picture regarding Hunny. I've seen the way he shuts down when you talk to him. Maybe he'll listen to me, though. Please. Just let me try."

Joyce reached across the table and squeezed her daughter's hand. "I'll think about it, sweetie. Thank you, though."
 

~^~
 

Joyce woke to the sound of water running. She opened her eyes and realized it was the shower in the en suite lavatory off of their bedroom. She glanced at the clock. 4:35am? What was Bob doing up so early? She looked at his side of the bed. It hadn't been used. She shook her head and waited for him to come out of the lavatory.

When at last the door opened and he appeared, fully dressed, Joyce asked in a low voice, "Why are you up so early?"

He glanced at her as he grabbed a pair of shoes and sat in a chair to put them on. "I didn't mean to wake you."

She sat up against the headboard. "Did you even come to bed last night?"

"Nope," he said, moving to his other shoe.

"Where did you sleep, then?"

"I my car. I needed to shower, shave and get ready for work, though. Sorry I woke you."

Joyce was getting fed up with his evasive answers. "Bob... it's not even five o'clock, yet. Your office doesn't open for four hours. Why are you getting ready to leave, now?"

He stood and picked up his sports coat. "I know you need both cars today, so I'll use an Uber to get to work."

He started to head for the door, but Joyce stopped him. "So... do you just plan on avoiding your son for the rest of your life?"

He looked at her and shook his head. "I don't have a son, anymore. I will be home tonight, though. I'll see you all then."

He walked out the door and she listened as he went down the stairs.
 

~^~
 

"Yo, Short Stuff!" Ruthie called to Hunter as he climbed out of the car.

"Hi, Ruthie!" Hunter smiled and waved as the older girl approached their car. Mary Ellen was opening the trunk so Hunter and Wanda could get their gear.

"I saw a picture of you in your dress for Sarah's party," she smirked. "Our dresses look enough alike that we'll look like twins. I hope everyone can tell us apart."

Hunter put his backpack onto his back and he laughed at Ruthie's teasing. "Yeah, right! Like anyone would ever confuse someone as pretty as you with a kid like me."

"Come on. Jump up!" Ruthie instructed and Hunter climbed up onto her back, piggyback style.

"Hey, guys!" Sarah bubbled as she appeared. "It's really cool that you're coming to my party on Saturday! Im stoked."

"Me, too," Wanda said, receiving a hung from her friend.

"Well, since no one is introducing me - I'm Hunter's sister, Mary Ellen," Mae smiled at the two girls.

Ruthie looked at Mary Ellen and said, "Hey... weren't you in the district drama competition?"

"Yeah, I was. Were you?"

"I was on crew, but I remember you. You were like the ghost of the guys dead girlfriend, right?"

"Wow. Yeah. What a memory."

Ruthie, who was standing there chatting with Hunter still clinging to her back, said, "No. you were a riot. That's why I remember you. I'm Ruthie. I'm Sarah's sister."

"Nice to meet you," Mary Ellen said, with a wave. Offering her hand didn't make much sense, since Ruthie had Hunter's legs in her hands. "You know, Hunter can walk on her own. You don't have to be her personal transportation."

"Oh, Short Stuff doesn't weigh anything," Ruthie bounced up and down to prove her point. "Besides, she's good luck. We rub her head and carry her around for luck. Right, Short Stuff?"

"That's right!" Hunter grinned at his stepsister. "I'm good luck!"

"You're a brat," Mary Ellen laughed. She leaned in and gave Hunter's cheek a sisterly kiss. "Be good. I gotta go."

"Nice meeting you," Ruthie said, turning around. Mary Ellen was going to respond, but Ruthie was already running full blast towards the ball fields. The sound of Hunter's giggling on her back lingered behind them.
 

~^~
 

"Hi," Joyce said to the saleswoman working at the customer service counter. "I bought a dress for my daughter yesterday and I was told I can pick it up here. Here's my receipt."

"Just a moment," the woman said. She disappeared into a back room.

The customer service desk was right next to the shoe department. While she waited, Joyce looked at the selection of footwear. She was just browsing, but she overheard a shoe department salesperson saying to another salesperson, who, it appeared, he was training. "A lot of times, people are looking for heels for younger girls - you know, like ten or twelve year olds. Anyway, they want something comfortable, easy to walk in and fashionable. In that case, I always recommend this line. They've got up to a three inch heel, which is more than enough for anyone, they’re really well priced and I’m told that they’re easy to wear for hours on end."

Joyce took note of what style and company the salesman was talking about.

"Ma’am," the woman at the service desk said, catching Joyce’s attention. "I have your daughter’s dress for you.
 

~^~
 

"Ok, that about wraps everything up," Veronica said to her assembled colleagues. "Any questions? No? Alright. Thanks, everyone. Have a good day."

There were the usual sounds of a meeting ending – groans as people stood, the beginnings of conversations, papers being organized, things like that.

"Oh, Bob!" Veronica said as she organized her paperwork. "A word, please."

"Sure," Bob said with a smile meant for all the other people in the room, but he had a feeling this was not a conversation he wanted to have. Technically, Ronnie was his supervisor, but she had never pulled rank on him before and certainly not in front of other people.

When the room was empty except for the two of them, Veronica sat and motioned towards a chair by way of offering it to Bob.

"Thanks, but I think I’d rather stand," he said.

"Bob..." Veronica spoke slowly, choosing her words. "Last night... I stayed with Joyce until past eleven. I had to wake Wanda up to take her home. You... you didn’t call her... you didn’t check in at all. Joyce and the kids were worried sick. That’s not like you."

"Ronnie... with all due respect... this is between my wife and me and this conversation is kind of inappropriate for a supervisor to be having with her subordinate."

"That is true," Veronica nodded, "but I didn’t think I was talking to a subordinate. I thought I was talking to a friend. Someone I’ve known for decades and thought I knew."

"Well, if you knew him as well as you thought, you’d know that he likes to keep his personal life – personal."

Veronica’s eyes opened wide. "Seriously? Just a few weeks ago, I was sitting in your office making phone calls to the director of the softball camp our kids love so much. Was that because you were keeping your personal life ‘personal,’ or was that because we were friends and you had shared your family’s troubles with me?"

Bob shook his head and walked to the door. He opened it and said, "And that was the worst mistake I ever made." He left the conference room.

Veronica shook her head as she watched him walk away.

"Oh, Bob," a colleague said as she passed Bob in the hall, "there was a woman looking for you. I put her in your office."

"What?" he asked, a little befuddled. He didn’t have the kind of job that required people to come talk to him. "Who is she?"

"I dunno," his colleague laughed. "She was looking for you, so I put her in your office. That’s all I know."

As soon as he rounded the corner and could see through the windows of his office, he stopped and let out a huge sigh. Then he felt a wave of frustrated anger as he surged forward to deal with this intrusion.

"Hi, daddy." Mary Ellen smiled a friendly smile as he entered. "A lady told me I could wait in here. I hope you don’t mind."

"What are you doing here, Mae?" he asked, testily.

"I’m here to talk to you."

"We can talk at home."

"Not if you’re not there – or if Hunter might overheard."

Bob grunted, put his computer down on his desk and took out his phone. He held in a button for a few seconds, then said, "Set timer for five minutes."

"Five minutes and counting," the phone replied.

Bob sat down. "Five minutes, Mae."

"Dad... I came all the way down here to talk to you and you’re turning on your timer? That’s kind of cold."

"Mae... this is where I work. I can’t have these kinds of discussions at work, but since you came all the way down here, I’m giving you five minutes." He held up both of his palms. "The floor is yours."

Mary Ellen shook her head. "Fine... Why are you being this way?"

"What way?"

"THIS way! And the way you’re being at home. Last week, when you played ball with Hunter, you were fine – until you realized that he wasn’t as good as Wanda. In fact, my whole life, you always bent over backwards to be Hunter’s cool dad. Now... you’re acting like you’re afraid to even look at him. That’s ‘the way’ that I’m talking about."

Bob looked uncomfortable for a moment, then said, "Did your mother send you here?"

Mary Ellen laughed. "No. She definitely didn’t. In fact, she told me that this was between you and her and I shouldn’t get involved."

"That seems very sensible," Bob nodded. "Let’s take her advice, shall we?" He put his hands on his desk as if he was about to stand.

"No," Mary Ellen said flatly.

Bob relaxed his arms and crossed them across his chest. "No?" He looked at her with a look that said, ‘Remember who you’re talking to.’

"No, dad. Look... for most of my life, you have been my father. The man I looked up to more than anyone else in the world. Whenever I’d introduce you, I’d say ‘this is my dad!’" She waited a moment. "But whenever you’d introduce me... it’s always been ‘This is my stepdaughter.’"

Bob felt uncomfortable. "Well... Mae... you ARE my stepdaughter, so..."

"Really? After all these years of being my father, I’m still your stepdaughter? Huh... I guess I’ve been giving you too much credit, dad – sorry.... Stepdad. I assumed that, since I loved you, you loved me in return. My mistake." She stood and glanced at the phone on his desk. "Look at that. There’s still a minute and a half left. I’ll leave that for you to enjoy on your own."

"Mae..."

"You know, at least this thing with Hunter has helped me to realize that it’s not me that you don’t love... it’s all girls."

"Come on, now, you know that’s not true." As he finished that sentence, the alarm on his phone’s timer went off.

"Yeah, sure," the teenager said sadly. "You know, dad... this isn’t the conversation I wanted to have. I know my time is up, but before I leave, just let me point out that, even though you seem repelled by Hunter’s new attributes, he still loves you and needs you, and having you behaving the way you are is only going to drive him away. Maybe he’s not the rough and tumble son you dreamed of having, but he’s a really good kid, dad... and you’re throwing him aside because he’s not as cool as other guys’ sons. Well... I think that stinks. That’s... not what I wanted to say, either, but I think it probably needed to be said."

She left him in his office looking stunned.

He stared at his desk calendar for thirty seconds or more before his brain began working again. "Fuck," he whispered. Then, as he spoke the next series of words, they rose in volume like a musical crescendo. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Fuck, Fuck, FUCK, FUCK, FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

He slammed his hand on his desk as he rose and ran to the door. He turned into the hallway and he could see his stepdaughter... FUCK... his daughter... at the elevators in the lobby. He ran full throttle down the hall and through the glass doors, arriving as the doors to the elevator were closing with Mae on the inside of the elevator car. At the very last second, he threw his hand into the narrowing opening, forcing the doors to open, again.

Mary Ellen looked angry and miserable standing alone, surrounded by the shining, polished metal walls of the elevator.

"Mae..." he said, but then couldn’t think of what to say next. So he just stared at her for a few seconds. "Christ, Mae... have I always been this big an asshole?"

Mary Ellen looked around the narrow car. "No... but you have been lately."

He nodded, resigned to the truth.

"Mae... sweetheart... come on back to my office... please."

"Are you going to set another timer?"

"No..." he said, embarrassed. What a jackass-move that had been. "Come on... please... come back."

Mary Ellen wiped her eyes and nodded. She stepped out of the elevator and turned towards the office entrance.

"Mae..." Bob said, his eyes a bit watery, too. "Mae... I’m so sorry. Honest to God, sweetheart, you are the best daughter I could ever have dreamed of having. I’m so sorry that I never told you that."

Mae looked around at the carpeting and nodded.

"Come here, please," Bob asked, his arms open.

It took a few seconds for Mary Ellen to move forward, but eventually Bob was embracing her.

"Mae... I really do love you," Bob said, his voice cracking a bit. "I truly do. I am so, so sorry."

"It’s ok," Mary Ellen said into his chest, but Bob could feel her trembling. "It doesn’t matter, though. Right now, we need to focus on Hunter."
 

~^~
 

Joyce arrived home just after one in the afternoon. She walked around to the trunk of her car and pushed the button on her fob for the lid to open. She had the purple dress over her arm, the new shoes she’d just gotten (and hoped that they’d fit Hunter comfortably). Her purse was over her shoulder and the key to the front door was in her hand as she closed the lid down with a firm thud.

She was walking up the front path when a truck with the name of a local florist and the letters ‘FTD’ emblazoned on the side. Must be for a neighbor.

The truck driver got out of the truck and grabbed a tall vase of deep red roses. "Excuse me!" He shouted to stop her from closing the door behind her. "Is this 183 Maple?"

"Yes," Joyce nodded.

"Then these are for you," the driver said, holding out the tall, crystal vase.

"What?" Joyce blinked at the driver. "Just... give me a second to put this stuff down." She stepped into the house and put everything down, then returned to the door.

"Are you sure it’s for me?" She had been married to Bob for over a decade and he’d never once sent her flowers.

"Number 183," the driver smiled.

"Ok," Joyce smiled back. "Thanks."

She took the vase with the two dozen long stemmed roses and looked for the card.

She found it and opened the little envelope. "Joyce, Please forgive me. I love you and the kids with all my heart. I’ve been an ass. I know that. I’m sorry. Bob."
 

~^~
 

On Thursday at camp, they had softball games competing between the groups. They drew lots to see which team would play which. When the captain from group B drew group C as their opponent, all the girls in group D began whooping and hollering and applauding because they, the biggest girls, knew that they would be playing against group A, the youngest girls.

Sarah took the lead of the group A girls. "You think you’re going to walk all over us, don’t you? Well, you’re not. We’re going to win this game."

"Not likely," Ruthie shouted back, enjoying teasing her little sister. "You’ll be lucky to get a girl on base... and that’ll probably be because you were walked." She high fived her friends.

"Alright, Group D," Coach Skylar said. "Remember, you’re supposed to be the more mature girls here. Now, I don’t expect you to take it easy on the Group A girls, but I do expect you to be respectful of the younger campers. Understood?"

"Yes, coach!" The oldest girls shouted in reply.

"And you, group A girls." Coach Skylar turned to face the youngest girls. "I expect you to play fairly and try your hardest." Then she knelt down and called the little girls into a tight huddle. Then she whispered, "And I expect you to work as a team and kick their butts!"

"Yes, Coach!" all the Group A girls, including Hunter, shouted.

"Alright, ladies!" Coach Skylar shouted to everyone. "Let’s play ball!"

The game between groups B and C moved along quickly. The group C girls were older and a little stronger than the other team, but Group B held their own until the last inning when Group C surged ahead, winning by a score nine to six.

There was something a little comical in the appearance of the Group A team challenging the Group D girls. The seventeen and eighteen year old girls dwarfed their opponents. The most startling dichotomy being when a Group D girl stood near the tiny Group A third base player named Hunter.

By the top of the fourth inning, Group D was leading four to one and the older girls couldn’t help but rub it in a little. When a Group D girl named Addy made it to third base ahead of the throw to Hunter, she smiled down at him and said, "Enjoying yourself, Short Stuff?" Then she pulled off Hunter’s hat and rubbed his hair for good luck.

"Hey!" Hunter protested, all business during a game.

She winked at him. "Oh, don’t be a spoil sport. I need a little luck."

Until that moment all of the ‘Short Stuff’ and ‘rub her for luck’ stuff had been funny, but now it felt like it had when the boys at school treated him differently because he was small. Now, he was determined to teach these girls in Group D a lesson. He didn’t think Group A could win, but they had to make sure this game didn’t end up in a runaway thrashing by the older girls.

Then it happened. The Groups D girl at bat hit a high pop fly towards the third base line. Hunter moved into the grassy area and spread his arms.

"I got it!" he shouted.

The ball seemed to hang in the air forever, and when it finally came down, he caught it handily.

"She’s running!" Coach Marie yelled.

Addy, who was probably the fastest girl at camp, had waited until the ball was caught, then tagged up and ran for home plate. Hunter saw what was happening and fired the ball to the catcher, who caught it and turned to tag Addy. Addy saw that the catcher had the ball and there was no way around her, so she turned and headed back to third base. The catcher fired the ball back to Hunter, who caught it and ran down the baseline towards Addy. Addy took advantage of her height and turned to run back to home plate, assuming Hunter couldn’t even see the catcher over her head. Hunter stepped off the baseline and fired the ball back to the catcher. Addy saw the ball again and turned once more, running full tilt back to third base.

At this point, Hunter reached to his left and caught the catcher’s throw. He had Addy dead to rights and he knew it.

He stepped forward to tag Addy, but she was moving too fast to stop. She didn’t mean to plow into the little third base player, but she was focused on getting back to the bag safely and didn’t even know Hunter had stepped in front of her until she felt the impact of the smaller player bouncing off her body.

"Damn," Addy muttered, knowing she’d been tagged out, so her side was going to have to move to the field. It was just about that time that she noticed everyone running onto the field. She turned and saw little Hunter sprawled unconscious on the grass.

"What the..." Addy said, more to herself than anyone else. It took a moment, but then she realized what must have happened and she ran to the little third base player in three long strides, while muttering, "Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Don’t be hurt!" The whole way.

There were already a few girls around Hunter by the time Addy got there. Wanda was kneeling, tapping her friends face and screaming, "Hunter! Hunter!"

Addy was about to kneel down, too, but Sarah appeared, running from her position in at first base, and pushed the bigger girl away with a shocking amount of force. "Don’t touch her!" she screamed.

"Im sorry," Addy said, a bit befuddled, sprawled on the ground herself, now. "I didn’t mean to hurt her." She sat up and tried to move closer to Hunter.

"Let me in to see her," Coach Marie demanded as she arrived. She bent down and took control of the situation. "Get a hand towel and a bottle of water from the cooler, she instructed one girl who ran as fast as she could to retrieve the items and returned.

The Coach poured some water onto the towel and began dabbing the wet cloth on Hunter’s forehead. "Hey... Hunter," she said, gently. "Hunter? Come on, Short Stuff. Don’t just lay there. Come on sweetie. Come on. Open your eyes."

The nurse and Coach Skylar arrived next.

"Alright, girls," Coach Skylar instructed, "step back. Everyone take two steps back and let her breathe."

The nurse knelt and pulled something out of her bag. She touched Wanda’s shoulder. "Let me work on her, honey," the nurse said.

"But..." Wanda looked at the nurse and it was clear to the nurse that this child was scared to death. "She’s going to be ok, right?"

"I’ll take good care of her. I promise," the nurse said with a gentle smile that failed to put Wanda at ease.

The nurse cracked a vial of smelling salts and ran it under Hunter’s nose. The reaction was immediate.

He sprung up from a lifeless form on the ground and sat up wide eyed and looking around. "Did I tag her out!?" he nearly shouted with excitement.

Wanda didn’t give anyone a chance to answer. She reached in and hugged him harder than he could ever remember being hugged.

"Oh, thank God!" she said excitedly. "Are you ok?"

"I think so," he said, confused as to how everyone had gotten so close to him so quickly. "What’s going on?"

That made everyone laugh.

"Can you stand?" the nurse asked.

"I guess." He shrugged and stood. There were a couple of seconds of unsteadiness, but then he felt fine.

Coach Skylar nodded, happy he wasn’t badly hurt. She put her arm around his shoulders. "Alright, Short Stuff. Come on inside with me and sit for the rest of the day."

Hunter stopped and looked at the Coach. "No, Coach, please. I want to keep playing."

"Hunter," she chuckled, "you were just hit so hard that you flew five feet through the air and ended up unconscious. You’re done for today."

Hunter looked from the Coach to all the other players. "Coach... please..." he whispered. "I’m ok. I swear. Please. Don’t make me quit. I don’t want them to think I’m a sissy."

"Sweetheart, no one is going to think..."

"Yes, they will, coach. Until today, everyone has liked me. If I don’t get back on the field and play, then I’m just going to be the littlest person in camp. The fragile little one that everyone has to be careful of." He glanced at all the other girls who were all still looking in their direction. "Please, coach. Let me play. I just want to be like everyone else. Not the frail little toy that everyone has to look out for. Please."

Coach Skylar knew the rules – She’d written them, after all – but she also knew that young athletes weren’t really as fragile as the rules indicated. The rules were there to insure safety and protect the camp from litigation, not to support a young athlete who was determined to be better a better athlete than she was when she arrived at camp. This little girl – no – this tiny, feminine boy – was one of those young athletes. He... no... she... definitely she... wanted to be better. To be the best she could be. To make those big girls in Group D respect her. If the rules couldn’t be bent or broken for this child, then there was no point in having someone making decisions about implementing those rules.

The head coach nodded and smiled at the littlest camper. "Ok. Alright. Now listen... I’ll make a deal with you. I will let you back on the field, but I am calling your mom to let her know what happened. Now, if she says you’re benched for the rest of the day, then that’s that – you’re benched for the day. Ok?"

"Ok, coach," he nodded, feeling relieved. He knew his mother well enough to know that she’d be hesitant to bench him if she knew that he felt ok. "Thank you, coach."

He turned and jogged back to the field to the sound of all the girls applauding his return. Wow! He’d been knocked down dozens of times playing baseball, but the boys always viewed his injuries, no matter how minor or severe, as an inconvenience. They were usually happier if he just left.

Addy met him as he ran. "Hey... umm... Short Stuff... look... I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m really, really sorry. Honest. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I’m fine!" he said, dismissing what he’d just experienced as no big deal.

Addy gave him a gentle hug. "Good. Are you ready to play?"

"You bet your ass, I am," he said, causing Addy to laugh out loud.

It was Group A’s turn at bat. Hunter wouldn’t bat until the fourth slot, and with Group D’s pitching being as good as it had been that day, he didn’t know if he’d get up to the plate that inning.

Before the first batter was up, though, Coach Maria called the team into a huddle. She knelt in the center and looked each of them in the eye as she spoke.

"Alright, listen-up. I don’t care that you’re the youngest girls in this camp. I know you. Each and every one of you. And I know that you can beat those girls IF you play like a team. So, our first three batters are Julie, Wanda and Colleen. Now, you three. What is your goal?"

"To get on base, coach," all three said in unison.

"That’s right. To get on base. Not to swing for the bleachers. Not to be a hero. Just to get on base. Now, if you see that sweet, perfect pitch coming your way, don’t hesitate to send it all the way to Canada, but the GOAL is to get on base. We need to get as many batters up to the plate as possible and to do the work that needs to get done. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, coach!" they all said in unison.

"Whose the number four batter?" Coach Marie asked.

"I am coach," Hunter said.

She smiled at him. "What’s your goal, Short Stuff?"

"To get on base, coach."

"That’s my girl," she smiled and rubbed his shoulder. Hunter could tell that she was proud of him for not leaving the field after being plowed over by Addy. Then she looked around at all their little faces. "You are little, but mighty ladies. Am I right!?"

"YES, COACH!"

"Well, alright, then! Let’s stick to the plan, load those bases and score some runs. Now, let’s go!" The girls dispersed and went to their places. Julie to the batter’s box, Wanda to the on deck circle, ready to go to the batter’s box, Colleen to the opening of the team area, ready to move to on deck.

Julie watched a strike go past her on the first pitch, a ball on the second, but then, when the third pitch came along, she shoot it back as a line drive, dead center between the first and second base players. She made it to first easily.

Then Wanda stepped into the batter’s box and let the first ball whizz past her as a strike as well. The second one was a little to the outside of the plate, but she managed to get a piece of it and send a low pop to right field, just shy of the foul line. It was close enough to the infield that the right fielder couldn’t get under it. She fired the ball to first base, but Wanda was too fast and arrived safely. As the the ball was headed to first, Julie rounded second and headed to third. The first base player threw the ball as hard as she could, but Julie arrived at third without too much trouble.

That put Colleen at bat and Hunter on deck.

Colleen was probably the biggest girl in Group A. She was nearly fourteen and she was a very muscular for a girl her age. Hunter had seen her climb a rope in the gym with no problem whatsoever. It had taken Hunter like six minutes to reach the top.

Colleen’s stance was perfect. It was exactly what Wanda and the coaches had taught Hunter. She looked serious and powerful as the first pitch was thrown. It was a fastball – a very fastball – and when Colleen’s bat connected with the sphere, it went soaring into the air, straight past the outfield and into the no-man’s land beyond. It was a three run, home run and Hunter felt a surge of relief pass through him. The idea of stepping up to bat with the bases loaded scared the bejeezus out of him.

Hunter high-fived each base runner as they passed. Colleen was the last to pass and Hunter heard her speak to the coach. "Sorry, coach. I saw a big hit and I took it."

"Oh, shut up," Coach Marie laughed as she patted the girl on her back. ‘Come on, now, Short Stuff," she said, clapping her hands encouragingly as only an athletic coach can

Hunter stepped up to the plate and stood as tall and as powerfully as he could. The ball came in and it was thrown slow and wide."

"Ball!" the umpire called.

Hunter stepped out of the box and looked at the catcher. "Can you tell her not to walk me?" He asked.

The catcher laughed and shrugged. "I’ll ask for a real pitch, Short Stuff, but she’ll do what she wants."

The next pitch was just like the first.

"Ball 2!"

Hunter stepped out of the box. He shook his head and looked at the catcher again. "Beth," he said quietly. "Please... tell her not to treat me like a baby. If she does, then everyone else will, too."

The catcher thought for a moment, then looked at the umpire. "Time."

"Time!" the umpire called.

Beth ran out to the pitchers mound and spoke to the pitcher. The pitcher looked past Beth at Hunter and nodded.

Beth ran back and squatted behind the plate. "I hope you’re happy, Short Stuff. She’s not going to hold back. I think you might have hurt her feelings a little."

Hunter took his place in the batter’s box and tried to make all four foot one of himself look powerful. The pitcher wound up and fired a fastball in that came very close to hitting Hunter, causing him to jump backwards.

"Strike!" the umpire called.

That’s when Hunter heard the shouts from his teammates. "What’s wrong with you!?" "Are you nuts!?" "You almost killed her!" "You think that’s funny!?"

"Time!" Coach Skylar called and she headed to the mound, signaling for the Group D coach to join her.

"How old are you?" the camp director asked the pitcher when they were all assembled.

"Eighteen," the pitcher replied.

"How old is she?" Coach Skylar indicated Hunter.

The pitcher shrugged. "Thirteen?"

"Twelve," Skylar said, angrily. "She’s twelve and you know it. You also know that when we scrimmage between groups, the older girls need to be cautious of the younger. Damnit, Betsy, you’re a smart girl and you know better than to throw that kind of heat at a twelve year old."

The girl nodded, contrite.

"Now, look," Skylar continued, "I’ve already had to call that child’s mother once today and I’m not going to do it again. For Christ’s sake, Betsy, if you hit someone that small with a pitch that fast, you could kill her. Use some common sense."

"Coach, she asked for me to not walk her. She wanted real pitches. I gave her a real pitch."

"For another eighteen year old. Were you trying to scare her because she didn’t want your charity walk? Now, this conversation is ending. You can either throw to her the way you have been throwing to every other member of her team since this game began, or you can sit on the bench and watch someone else pitch the rest of this game."

The pitcher looked to her team coach. "Don’t look at me. Coach Skylar is being a lot nicer about this than I planned on being. I was just going to pull you without a discussion."

The girl let out an exasperated sigh and nodded. "Ok. I’ll slow down the fastballs. Can I pitch the rest of my stuff to her?"

"You can, but you know the rules about pitching inside to a batter, right?" her own coach asked.

"Yes, Coach."

"Good," Coach Skylar nodded. She turned and walked away. The other coach gave the pitcher a very authoritative look that said, ‘Watch it,’ and then walked away as well.

The game resumed.

The pitcher threw again. It was fast, but nothing like the last pitch. It seemed to be a perfect pitch and Hunter took his swing, but at the last second, the ball suddenly sunk lower than his bat and hunter’s bat swished across the plate without making any contact.

"Strike two!" the umpire shouted.

The catcher tossed the ball back to the pitcher and the pitcher smirked at Hunter.

"Maybe you should have taken the walk," the catcher said.

Hunter shook his head and prepared for the next pitch. It came in just a bit too wide for Hunter’s reach, but it looked kind of close to the plate. He held his bat in place cringed as he waited for the umpire’s decision on the pitch.

"Ball 3!"

Hunter let out a breath. He wasn’t out, yet.

"This is it, Short Stuff," the catcher said. "The three-two pitch."

Hunter knew she was right. Barring a foul ball, this was it.

The pitcher wound up and sent in the same sinking pitch he’d fallen for before, but this time Hunter was ready. The hours upon hours of learning to hit Wanda’s crazy pitches paid off, and he connected in a big way. It wasn’t a home run or anything like that, but it shot out of the infield at a height just above the reach of the shortstop and landed in left field far enough in front of the fielder to give Hunter time to reach first base easily.

The first base player stayed serious until the ball was out of play. Then she turned to Hunter and said, "Nice hit, Short Stuff." She held out a fist for Hunter to bump with his. "You ok? From before, I mean."

Hunter couldn’t believe that an opponent was asking him this. "Yeah. I’m good."

The girl smiled down on him. "Tough little tomboy, huh?"

Hunter just shrugged.

The next grounded out, but Hunter made it to second base.

The next sent a line drive into center field giving Hunter the opportunity to make it to third.

The next hitter hit a high pop fly that just barely went into the outfield. The second base player, short stop and center fielder all converged on where it was about to land. When at last it came down, the second base player caught it, but it turned her around with her back to the plate for just a couple of seconds. Hunter saw his opportunity and he tagged up and ran for home. The harried throw from the second base player was just to the first base side of home plate and allowed Hunter just enough time to cross the plate before the catcher could tag him.

"Safe!" the umpire shouted.

Beth, the catcher took just a second or two to be ticked off at herself for not making the play, but then she called to Hunter, who was headed to his bench. "Hey, Short Stuff!"

Hunter turned and looked at the catcher.

The catcher stepped towards Hunter and offered a high five, that Hunter happily responded to. When their hands made contact, though, Beth gripped his for a moment and smiled down at him. "You’ve got balls for a little girl, Short Stuff. I’ll give you that. Way to play!"

Hunter was suddenly much more proud of his run than before. "Yeah. You too, Beth. Way to play." He started to go, but stopped and said, "Oh, and you play like you go balls, too."

The phrase that the older girls said to each other almost without thinking seemed so odd coming out of the mouth of this child that it made Beth guffaw. "Thanks, Short Stuff." She winked at him and walked back to her position behind the plate.

The score was Group A: Five. Group D: 4

As it turned out, Group A didn’t score any more runs that day, but they came together as a team after Hunter had been knocked down and their game improved a great deal. Defensively, they rallied their skills and worked as a tightly woven unit to prevent Group D from scoring another run. At first, Hunter and the other girls thought that Group D was actually backing off a bit – maybe not letting Group A win, but taking it a little easy on them. But then they started to see the frustration on the faces of the Group D girls and the younger team knew that they were winning for real and that pushed them to play even harder.

At the end of the seventh, and last, inning, it turned out that Group A’s one run lead was enough to win. So, even though he did not know it at the time, Hunter had scored the decisive, winning run. The youngest girls were thrilled with their victory, but they did feel just a little bad that the older girls were given a stern tongue lashing by their coach after their defeat.

Whatever embarrassment the Group D girls felt though was washed away quickly, and when Coach Skylar called for everyone to sit on the hillside that lined one side of the field so that she could speak to them all, the Group D girls grabbed hold of the Group A girls and had them sit with them. Hunter found himself sitting between the spread legs of Addy, the girl who’d knocked him down, and leaning back against her as Coach Skylar spoke.

"Alright, girls, listen up!" Coach Skylar shouted in her slightly hoarse coach’s voice. "One week from today is our last day on this field. It’s also the day of our ‘Daughter’ dance. So – if you’ve actually read your camp daily agenda, which I know you haven’t - you’d know that it’s a half day of camp. You’ll be dismissed from camp BEFORE LUNCH, so we won’t be eating together. That will give you time to go home, shower all of that nasty sweat off of your filthy bodies, spend some time getting ready and then re-emerge as beautiful young ladies in the grand ballroom at the Marriott with your adult date for the night. Now, that date can be a father, a mother, an aunt or an uncle, a mentor, a role model – anyone you chose, but you can only bring one date and you really should let that person know TODAY so that they have a chance to prepare for the evening. Right?"

"Right, coach!" the mass of girls shouted in military unison.

Skylar smiled. "Excellent. Now, on Friday of next week, we will be competing against the girls from the Longview Softball Camp at the Triple A League ball park in the city. All the information about that day is also in the information packet that you all received on day one. You can invite as many people to that as you’d like. There is a tendollar fee to enter the park. That’s pretty cheap. Our Group D girls will meet their Group D girls, Group C against Group C, etc. Now, we’ve never played Longview before, but they have a reputation for being tough players. So we need to be pumped and ready for those games. Any questions about that event? "

There weren’t.

"Alright. Then, tomorrow we are holding our clinic with a batting coach from the Boston Red Sox. So – come ready to swing those bats!"

"Yes, Coach!" the girls shouted and clapped and hooted and howled.

When the din had died down, the head coach said, "Now, get out of here. Get some rest and we’ll meet back here in the morning."

The girls all cheered and clapped.

Addy put her arms around the littlest camper and asked, "You’re really ok, right?"

"Yeah, I’m fine," Hunter laughed. "You’re not as strong as you think."

"Well, that’s a good thing, I guess." She swung Hunter from side to side before she pushed him into a seated position beside her and she stood up, then offered Hunter a hand standing, too.

She put her arm around his shoulders as they headed up the hill. "So, do you have your dress for next week?"

Hunter shook his head. "No. We went shopping, but I hated everything my mom picked out.’

"Why?’

He shrugged again. "I dunno. Everything she wanted me to wear was all... lacy and... girly."

"So what!?" Addy laughed. "That’s the point of a semi-formal dance. After three weeks of seeing each other as sweaty athletes, we get to dress up and enjoy being girls."

He looked up at the bigger girl. She was one of the toughest, most accomplished athletes at the camp and everyone looked up to her. She pushed herself hard and she expected everyone around her to do the same. Hunter had to ask – "Do you enjoy being a girl?"

"What? Are you kidding? Of course I do! I mean, I love hauling ass around the bases and lifting weights and running track and all of that, but the biggest benefit to all of that is that it makes my body hard and fit. I love getting dressed up and being a girl!" She smiled a goofy smile and tickled Hunter as she said, "And I love how I make boys drool when I put on a dress that shows all of this off." She strutted a little in a mocking impression of a fashion model. "So... you don’t want to be a girl? Is that it? Would you rather be a boy?"

Those were bigger questions than she knew. Hunter didn’t really WANT to be anything except normal. Why was that such a hard thing for him to be. Having said that, if the truth be told, he’d hung out with guys for eleven years and always felt like an outsider – and if the guys knew that he’d grown breasts, then they’d rip him to shreds. He’d only been a girl for a couple of weeks and he really liked being with these girls a lot. They were serious athletes, more serious than a lot of the boys he’d been to camp with the previous year, and more importantly – they were nice to him. He suspected, although he had no desire to confirm it, that if he were to tell them that he was really a boy who had just sprouted these boobies without wanting them, they’d be fine with it and just keep on being nice to him.

"I don’t know," Hunter shrugged. "I just don’t wear dresses. My mom is making me wear skirts at home all week so I’ll be ready to wear a dress for this party I’m going to on Saturday night, but... I don’t really hate them or anything... I just don’t want to get too girly. That’s all."

"Oh, are you going to Sarah’s bat mitzvah party on Saturday?" Addy asked, a little excited.

Hunter nodded.

"Me too! Ruthie gets to invite a couple of friends to hang with and she invited me. Hey! We’ll see each other dressed up! That’ll be cool, right!?"

"Yeah, I guess..." Hunter said, considering how beautiful Addy would look and how silly he might look in comparison. He spotted Mary Ellen up ahead and he waved. "That’s my sister."

Addy nodded. Then she stopped and squatted down to Hunter’s level. "Listen, my little friend, before I say goodbye, let me give you a little advice – We’re in a really cool place as girls right now. We can act anyway we want and it’s all cool. We can be tough or sweet or aggressive or pretty or anything else we want and no one will question us. The thing is, though – once we become women, those options narrow down a bit. Especially if we become moms. So, take some chances while you’re still a girl, ok? Do all the boy stuff that you’re doing, but try all the girl stuff, too. Look how lucky you are! You’re twelve and you already have a nice set of tatas to flaunt! Look at your sister."

He did and Addy kept talking. "She’s beautiful, right? There’s the same DNA inside you. Someday soon, you’ll be as beautiful as her. Enjoy it."

"Umm... she’s my step sister," Hunter smirked. He was kind of happy to poke a hole in Addy’s superior tone. "Sorry, but we do not share the same DNA."

Addy smiled at his comeback. "Ok. You get my point, though, right? Do you have a dress for Saturday?"

He nodded.

"Good. Come looking pretty and I’ll help you learn how to enjoy yourself when you’re wearing a ‘girly’ dress. Ok?" She grabbed him and began to tickle him, again.

"Ok, ok, ok!" He giggled.

"Ok." Addy smiled and stood. She took Hunter’s hand and walked him to Mary Ellen. "Hi, I’m Addy."

"Hi. I’m Mae." Mary Ellen smiled and shook the other girl’s hand. "I’m Hunter’s sister."

"And I’m his assailant." Addy smiled as she told her long and apologetic story of her accidental assault on Hunter earlier that day.
 
 
To Be Continued...