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This text is (c) 2009 by Melanie. All rights reserved.
 
 
Fifty-one

We compiled a list of the personal information that would be needed to make our fake ID. I chose to be Veronica Katherine Hall, Katherine being my grandmother's first name.

Stacy became Stacy Elisabeth Hancock, keeping her real first and middle name. Alyssa became Alyssa Marie Hall, thereby connecting her to me via the common last name.

Documents would show her as being my daughter, father unknown.

We found a shop where our pictures were taken, and I met Pam after she was finished at work, passing her an envelope containing our notes, the pictures, and a substantial amount of cash.

Pam promised to call me as soon as she heard from her friend, who had a connection that could provide such services.

We agreed to meet for dinner the next day at her place. Pam lived alone, having given her no good live-in boyfriend the boot several months ago, just after finding that he was dipping into the couple's savings for his boozy nights out with the guys.

I went back to the motel and filled Stacy in on the developments and told her about our dinner arrangements. Having nothing else to do, we watched some TV and went to sleep.

Fifty-two

Oh, the joys of motherhood!

Bright and early, I was woken up by Alyssa's insistent tugging on my blanket. Although I felt like swatting her and going back to sleep, I realized that that would be very wrong and reluctantly got out of bed.

Stacy still slept, undisturbed by my getting up, so I pulled myself together and laid claim to the bathroom. I dressed Alyssa in the one change of clothing she had and got myself ready to go out. Jeans, a white top with cap sleeves, white flats and a hint of lipstick were put on in short order, my hair brushed and teased into place, then I woke Stacy.

We didn't have any decent food and of course the room hadn't sprouted a kitchen overnight, so we set off to visit yet another fast food place for breakfast. By now even I hoped that we would soon have a kitchen and food in the house.

With everyone fed, we set out to get a few more changes of clothing for Alyssa. Stacy had some limited experience with shopping for childrens' clothing, I had none at all. We must have looked really helpless, but fortunately a saleswoman spotted us and, eager to earn a commission, started to praise the shop's wares.

We left her very happy with the sales she made, since we purchased several complete outfits and some separates as well as shoes and underwear. It cost a tidy sum, especially because we hadn't really invested much time in looking for a store; we just went into the first one we saw.

We used the opportunity to expand my meager wardrobe, at Stacy's insistence even buying some things I could not possibly imagine myself wearing. Well, not until I tried them on, at least.

It was still with some misgivings that I entered the women's changing rooms, I felt like an intruder in this feminine reserve. Stacy had to almost push me inside as I hesitated crossing the threshold.

Once inside, Stacy handed me one thing after another, all the while keeping up the sort of chatter one would expect between friends who went out to shop. I played along, ad-libbing responses to her talk about nonexistent events or people while slipping on one piece of clothing after another.

I wasn't about to make a scene, so I had little choice but to take what I was given and model each and every piece.

Well, ok, on some skirts i claimed that I couldn't get them closed, but then I was caught by Stacy, her simply stepping inside to help and discovering it was actually a perfect fit. I turned beet red and stopped trying to cheat after that.

Meanwhile, Alyssa was running around the changing room area, occasionally looking into a booth and eliciting comments about what a sweet little girl she was. She did always return to my booth, though, which made me happy, somewhere deep inside. She looked at me with adoring eyes and I could almost feel her wanting to be like me when she grew up. I felt things I had never felt before in my entire life, feelings I had not learned to cope with as a child. I pushed them aside for now, but I knew I would have to work out that part of my emotions, and soon.

After a while, trying on clothes didn't feel so bad anymore, and by the end of our shopping trip it didn't feel wrong or even too unusual. Of course they were female things, but I didn't exactly look male. I was even able to appreciate the way things looked by looking at the woman in the mirror as if she was another person. Of course I knew it was myself, but taking that step back gave me a better appreciation of how good some of these things looked on her. Me. Whatever.

We left with a largish number of shopping bags, after having gotten some strange looks. Not for what we bought, or because anyone found anything unusual about me, no, we were looked at somewhat askance because we paid cash. Apparently, in the big city, paying anything over $20 in cash was pretty much unheard of. Regardless, they took our money and we left, Alyssa in tow, and returned to the Motel.

Stacy wanted me to change into some of the new things, but I put my foot down, telling her I wasn't her Barbie doll. She gave me a hurt look and laid down on the bed, watching TV and sulking.

I turned on the PC, checking my mailbox, but found nothing of interest. I tried to surf around for a while, but my heart wasn't in it. Finally, I turned off the computer and joined Stacy on the bed.

Stacy turned around to face away from me and pretended to be busy studying the pattern of the wallpaper.

I said, “Stacy, I'm sorry. I was out of line to say that when you were just trying to help. Please understand that this is all new for me, and it scares me. I'm afraid I'm losing myself.”

Stacy turned around and looked at me and I could see a hint of a smile in her eyes. She said, “Ronnie, you are so perfectly natural as a woman that I sometimes forget that you weren't born that way. I don't mean to scare you, and you can't lose yourself, because that's who you are. No matter what body you have, or what clothes you wear, you are you.” Then, she lowered her eyes and said, “And I like you a lot.” She smiled at me and reached out to pull me into half a hug.

She said, “And now, let's get you ready for that dinner.”

My head was spinning, I was adding up things and couldn't believe what I thought she had just said. Her remark about liking me in this form, her preference for women and now this, said with her little smile, made me believe there could be a real chance for romance. I wondered if I was ready for that, and part of me wondered if that curious half-woman I saw myself as even deserved happiness. What a mess I was!

Fifty-three

Stacy introduced me to the intricacies of putting on powder and blusher, showing me where to brush on the blusher to emphasize my cheekbones. She did my eyes again, and we did take fewer tries than last time to get it to a point Stacy would accept. When I started to put on my lipstick, Stacy stopped me, saying “You don't want to put that on just yet. We'll be trying on a few things and it's too easy to get it on your clothes of you change quickly.”

Stacy really wanted to see me in a skirt, but I resisted, putting up the argument that it wasn't a dinner out, but just a private dinner at a friend's house. She argued that that was as good a time as any to try it, and that I would not embarrass myself if I made a mistake, unlike in a public place. I said that I'd be embarrassed to wear one in the first place, which she countered by asking me if I had liked the image in the mirror when trying them on.

I had to admit that I did, but I told her I wasn't ready for that yet. She finally relented and I wore a pair of jeans with embroidery on the pockets and some leather patches, a white blouse cut somewhat like a man's shirt and ankle boots. When I put on my denim jacket, Stacy mentioned that I dressed a bit like Melissa Etheridge. I didn't know who that was, but I was soon told that she was a singer and somewhat of an icon in the lesbian scene. She took the time to play “Bring me some Water” off her mp3 for me, and I noted that the lyrics could be read to fit either a female or a male partner.

We bundled Alyssa into the car and drove to Pam's house. Pam was already expecting us and the delicious smell of dinner filled the house. Dinner was chicken breast with vegetables. I was so happy to get some real food, even if it was such a girly meal. Despite really loving the taste of it, I found that I was full after finishing my plate, I didn't want the seconds my old self had almost always needed.

Alyssa also looked quite content, having eaten with a minimum of assistance. Of course we had cut the meat for her, but it seemed to me like some of the poise of the adult Alyssa had survived in the child. She certainly had better manners than most children her age I had ever seen.

Dinner done, we sat Alyssa in front of the TV and quickly rinsed off the dishes, which were then deposited in the dishwasher. We returned to the table and Pam produced another bottle of the wine we had with dinner, refilled out glasses and we settled down to retell my story, with more detail.

I filled in the gaps the short version had left open, however I didn't mention the books at all. I also didn't mention how proficient I was with certain kinds of magic, or how much strength I could muster if I was cornered. I don't know why I held back, but I felt there was a reason for it, and Stacy followed suit once she caught on.

All that time, Pam had sat quietly, intently listening to our story. After I finished she sat back and looked at me. She said, “If I didn't know better, I'd say that you're pulling my leg. But what you're telling me fits all the facts, and in my job, nothing is impossible. Although, I must say, I thought i'd seen it all, but this is something new.”

She went on, “What I would like to see is some magic. You've been talking about all that magic, but I haven't seen any. Can you do anything, here?”

I said, “I suppose I can give a small demonstration.”

A quick look to the TV showed Alyssa fast asleep on the big pillow that Pam had put down on the floor in front of the screen, so I figured it would be ok to do some harmless magic. As I looked at Pam and smiled, I levitated the bottle of wine, letting it go around the table and topping off all our glasses. Then, I set the wine down where it had started out from, and, with a wide grin, made a light appear at the tip of my right index finger and said “Phone home...”

The light blinked out when Pam and I cracked up laughing, and Stacy joined in a moment after. Alyssa stirred and cast a sleepy look towards the table, as if to say “Adults are so silly,” then promptly fell asleep again.

We pulled ourselves together and, after regaining composure, Pam said, “Wow. I just can't believe it.” She reached for her wine and quickly downed half her glass, then sat back and repeated, “Wow!”

Fifty-four

“So what all can you do?” Pam asked.

I said “I don't really know, to be honest. This is all new to me and it's not like I had real training. I don't know what my limits are and I don't know a lot of spells. The only thing I'm really good at is levitation. For all that's worth.”

Pam said, “That's a hell of a lot more magic than I can do!”

She went on, “Anyway, my turn. Ive done a bit of snooping for you, and this is what I've come up with. Around the time we had the suicides, we have one male disappearance where no body was found. Like the other ones, we found that some items were taken from his apartment, in an orderly fashion, but the closet was a total mess. As if someone was frantic to find something to wear. So, I'm pretty sure there is an earlier survivor.

“As for the congressgirl, rumor has it that she's going to be committed. We think it's to get her out of the public eye, to avoid scandal. She's in a sorry state, they say. They have not let her see any males at all, because with only female company, she remains somewhat composed. She still has what one would term a one track mind.

“She has stopped claiming her male identity, it seems the desire to prove who she is has been subsumed by her desire for sexual contact. She doesn't talk about much else.

“She's been charged with soliciting and indecent exposure, has been arraigned yesterday and is currently held at the county jail women's facility. She wasn't offered a plea bargain, which is extremely unusual and points towards them trying to keep her under wraps. Her counsel has entered a plea of not guilty.

“If you want to get to her, you'll have to bust her out of jail.” she concluded.

“Assuming her spell is like mine,” I said, “I will not be able to turn her back into the man she used to be. If we were to bust her out, I can give it a try to break the spell that keeps her mind locked up. If I can't break it, she will probably suffer the fate of the others, sooner or later. If I can, we would then have a congressman who has been turned into a woman. She'd probably try to get media attention; do we want that?”

“Certainly not,” said Stacy, “it's the last thing we need right now.”

Pam said, “He would be worried about losing his position, his wealth, outside of having to deal with being a young woman. If we can provide a way for that to be preserved for him, we might find him more cooperative.”

“Her,” Stacy said, “it's her. That part of the spell is definitely irreversible. We should get used to talking about her using feminine pronouns.”

“All this gender bending it getting me confused. But you're right, I'll try.” Pam said.

“With the congressman missing, his property will be held for him for a while. Depending on how well things are set up on his end, he may not lose anything for a few months at least.” I said, “His position is another thing. I don't think it will be possible to return to where he was in his new body. She isn't who the people voted for, if they were ready to accept a young woman, they would have voted for one. So, even if she was shoehorned into his position, her very constituents would oust her again as soon as they can. She needs to come to terms with that.”

Stacy said, “But how can we make that easier for her? She would be in a pretty scary situation. Surrounded by strangers, in an unfamiliar body, facing the loss of her office, and unable to access her money and other resources. If I were her, I'd panic!”

“Yes,” I said, “we can't even try that without qualified help. A psychiatrist would be best, that would give us the option of drugs, if needed.”

“My uncle is a psychiatrist,” said Pam. “I don't know if he would help. He is somewhat curious and open for new things, but this is so different from anything else, I just can't tell. Let me give him a call tomorrow and see if he is interested. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell him everything, but please be ready to come at a moment's notice, in case he demands proof.”

“Ok,” I said, “let's do it that way.”

With that, we said our goodbyes, picked up the sleeping toddler and left for the motel.

Thoughts were whirling around in my head as I was considering the possibilities and weighing our options. Somehow I had thought we would have to go it alone, but it seemed like we had the core of an organization forming here; maybe we would be able to help others, too, and eventually track down the source of the spell.

With these thoughts, I fell into dreamless sleep.

End of part thirteen