Gabriel talks with both his Mom and his sister Mitsumi, then sees that his own life has changed no less dramatically that weekend than his brother Michael’s.

III. Table Talk

Gabriel got quite a few poses from Mikki, Akiko, and Mitsumi, as individuals and in various combinations of his siblings. Even Mom joined in for a few. After the photo shoot, his plate of uneaten breakfast, now cold, only reminded him that he was still hungry. His corn flakes were soggy, too.

“Mom, would you warm up my breakfast for me?” asked Gabriel. “I’m sorry I let it get cold.”

Keiko smiled inwardly at her son’s request. Usually, she would not reheat breakfast, since her policy was that the family should eat together. However, the morning’s circumstances were unique. Besides, after returning, Gabriel did not even hint that he might be hungry, but he had gone right to work, acceding to their demand for an impromptu modeling session. Even Mikki, who at first had been wary of being photographed had quickly proven more photogenic than Michael had ever been. Indeed, she liked the camera and it loved her, especially with Gabriel wielding it.

“I’ll cook you a fresh omelette,” Keiko offered, “then we’ll talk.”

Since Gabriel’s “sisters” had all finished their breakfast, their mother addressed them. “Girls, I need to talk with Gabe alone. Mikki, you and Akiko should get going to meet up with your friends. Mitsumi, go call yours and invite them for later, okay?”

So Akiko and Mikki left together, while Mitsumi skipped her way out of the dining room. Keiko motioned for her son to come into the kitchen, so he brought his grape juice and cold plate with him as his mother cleared the remnants of breakfast from the dining room.

Gabriel sat down at the kitchen table.

“Mushroom and cheese omelette, Gabe?” Keiko asked her son as she turned on a burner and placed an omelette pan on the heat.

“That would be really nice, thank you,” he said pouring fresh milk on new corn flakes. “I’m guessing you wanna talk about what happened earlier?” Gabriel shoveled a spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth.

“Mm-hmm,” she answered, tossing some butter into the pan. “Did the suggestion that you might learn something if you dressed up like a girl upset you?”

Gabriel did not want to admit that he was indeed frightened at the idea. But he also knew that if he did not answer the question truthfully, the discussion would go nowhere and his Mom could not help. Besides, he guessed that she already knew the truth about how he felt anyway. She was just too good at reading her kids for him to get away with anything.

“It’s not something that I wanna do,” he admitted as he continued eating his cornflakes. “I felt like the only boy here. Michael’s just so into being ‘Mikki’ that I didn’t think he’d back me up. I’m happy being a boy. I don’t wanna pretend to be a girl and I can’t believe my brother does. But that’s how I feel. I’m sorry if that upsets anyone, but that’s how I feel.”

“That’s all right, Gabe,” she assured him as she put some grated cheese into a small bowl. “Do you also remember that I said that you never need to apologize for how you feel. Your feelings are your own and you have the right to feel however you feel, although you must act on them responsibly.”

“That’s why I left the table,” Gabriel confessed. “I didn’t know what to think about it all and I was afraid that I might say something and hurt someone. And I was afraid that you might make me do it or that Mikki or someone might argue me into it.”

“Into what?” Keiko asked for clarification, although she knew exactly what he meant. She proceeded to slice some mushrooms and dropped them in the bowl with the cheese.

“Dressing up!” Gabriel answered, very nearly finished the cornflakes.

“Dressing up how?” she insisted as she cracked three eggs into a small mixing bowl and whisked them, adding a small amount of milk.

“Dressing up like a girl!” Gabriel raised his voice in fear and frustration. “Are you happy, now? You made me say it!”

Quickly, Keiko poured the mixture of milk and beaten eggs into the omelette pan. “You know why I do it, too, don’t you?”

“You made me say it as a way of making me face it,” explained Gabriel, almost as if a recitation. “I’m afraid of dressing up like a girl or being made to dress up like a girl.”

“Why?” asked his mother, tending the cooking omelette.

“Because if I did my friends and classmates might find out and start rumors and make fun of me and call me ugly names.”

“What else?” she continued to press his issues as she poured the grated Swiss chese and mushrooms into the cooking omelette. “Why are you really afraid of dressing up like a girl?”

“Because Michael is doing it,” he answered, but in a much quieter, very subdued tone. He had finished his cornflakes.

“And why does Michael dressing up like a girl make you afraid?” Keiko pressed her son even further as she folded the omelette she was still cooking for him. “Why?”

“Dammit, Mom!” cried Gabriel, his tears starting to flow. “He likes it! He likes dressing up and acting like a girl and being ‘Mikki’!”

“And how does that frighten you?” Keiko continued as she flipped the omelette in the pan.

“Because he’s my brother and we’re a lot alike,” he explained. “If he likes it that much then I might like it, too. And then I’d keep doing it and sooner or later, someone would find out, and then it would all get really complicated.”

He sighed as his mother slid the omelette onto a plate next to hot, fresh breakfast potatoes. “Wait a moment, now,” she said quietly. “When you make an omelette correctly, it continues to cook for a few moments even after it leaves the pan.”

Gabriel felt his mother’s arm embrace him around the shoulder. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, more tears bursting forth, “and not just for the omelette. I didn’t even know what I was really afraid of. How did you know?”

“Well, I didn’t,” she admitted. “Not exactly, anyway. But I knew that you needed me to push you, and if I pushed, then you’d tell me. And you did. So, now I know why you’re so upset about this. More important, you know why, too.”

“Mom, most of my classmates already think I’m a nerd. It comes with being a preacher’s kid,” he complained. “I just don’t wanna give ’m any more reasons to call me a ‘queer’ or a ‘sissy.’ ”

“Gabe, even if you did dress up like a girl, that wouldn’t mean you were gay,” she tried to reassure her son. “In fact most crossdressers are not gay and most gays do not crossdress.”

“No? Try telling the rest of the world that!”

Her son did have a point there. She knew the statistics, but Gabriel would have to navigate adolescence among peers who most likely did not care if they were ignorant of such facts or who would not dare contravene their peers otherwise. Moreover, she understood adolescent thinking well enough to know that a kid trying to make the same rational argument would likely earn such a label just for making the point. Thinking back to the peer pressure of her own adolescence, she understood that her son’s fears were, in his own context, quite rational.

“How do you know your brother likes dressing up?” Keiko asked him, placing a twin set of little salt and pepper mills on the table as he sampled a first bite of the omelette.

Gabriel picked up the small pepper mill and ground some fresh pepper onto his omelette. “Every time Michael’s ever had to get a photo taken, he’s always complained to me about it. Even when ‘Mikki’ thought that I’d be taking pictures today, he-or-she was not happy about it. But did you see how Mikki was acting while I took his-or-her photos? Mikki was modeling, I think. Michael’s never liked being photographed before, but Mikki was unhappy when we quit! So he seems different now.”

Keiko was uncertain how to respond, mainly because Gabriel had noticed the same aspects of Michael’s behavior as Mikki that she had. During the brief after-breakfast photo shoot, her normally shy and introverted son Michael had become her energetic, dynamic, and extroverted new daughter ‘Mikki.’ That Gabriel had observed the same behavior as she, did not surprise Keiko, although she certainly had not expected him to draw the same conclusion about Michael versus Mikki that she had. Apparently, Gabriel’s intellect was mature enough for him to understand the logic of his brother’s social and emotional change on becoming Mikki. But he also understood that the same sequence of cause and effect that gave rise to Michael’s behavior as Mikki might apply to him as well. Moreover, Gabriel had been able to extend this reasoning beyond the immediate situation to conclude logically how it might affect him well enough to be disturbed by it.

“Yes, Michael does seem to be enjoying this a little too much,” Gabriel’s mother agreed. “But that might be because it’s only for the weekend. He’ll become himself again Monday morning.”

“I hope so,” Gabriel mused. “But somehow I think that his world changed today. Maybe mine did, too.”

“How’s the omelette?” Gabriel’s mother asked him, sensing a need to redirect the conversation.

“It’s quite good, Mom,” he said, taking another bite of it.

“I think that Mitsumi was wishing that her world would change, today, in that very direction,” Keiko summarized her thoughts. “She was also hoping you’d join in it with her.”

“I know,” Gabriel confessed, “but I just couldn’t enter her world the way that she wanted me to.”

“She does want to talk to you, I think,” his mother advised. “Would that be okay with you? She may think that she hurt you.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk with her, if she wants. But she didn’t hurt my feelings or anything like that. She only mentioned something that I was already upset about. I can’t expect her to know it because until you dragged it out of me, I didn’t even know it. No, none of this was her fault,” Gabriel confirmed. “But I’m still not wearing a dress, though. I just can’t do that.”

Keiko smiled at how her son had applied reason to help maintain his younger sister’s innocence, at least in his own mind. Of all her children, Gabriel was the most like herself in that he was always trying trying to reconcile logical thought with his own depth of feeling. He had joined his head and heart to work together instinctively. Little wonder to her that he was so good with a digital camera.

“Not even to get more pictures for your art project?” Keiko asked her son.

“What?”

“Mikki and Akiko suggested it while you were out of the room,” his mother informed him. “As the price for their continued participation in your photo essay, they may ask you to undergo a makeover. Before you decide anything, remember that you need not only their consent, but also their cooperation even to get any more pictures of them.”

“Mom, this whole thing has really gotten out of hand!” complained Gabriel. “My photo essay is not just for fun. It’s for my art project. I’ll be getting a grade for it.”

“Hmm? I understand what you mean. But they do have the right to refuse to participate, so they can insist on whatever conditions they wish if you want them to be your models. Besides, if Akiko, her four girlfriends, and your brother newly converted to girlhood, all decide they wish to make you over, you might not be able to stop them.”

“Oh?” Gabriel worried audibly. “I hadn’t thought about that. But I really need to get the photos this weekend, so I can be putting them together next week.”

“When’s your project due?”

“A week from Monday.”

“As I understand it, you have a few options,” Keiko began exploring. “You could try negotiating something else with Mikki, Akiko, and friends, although if you fail to change their minds, they will give you that makeover, whether you want it or not.”

“You would let them?” Gabriel asked.

“Even if I forbid Mikki and Akiko to participate, I have no such authority over their friends,” reasoned his mother. “Besides, if they decide that is their price for getting their photos, you may have no choice but to pay it.”

“What else?”

“You could preëmpt any makeover by deciding to dress up yourself. They wouldn’t be expecting that,” Keiko suggested. “I could help choose something for you to wear and even help you get dressed and made up. And Mitsumi would be absolutely thrilled to help you. But I know you’re not interested in that.”

“No, I’m not. To me that’s not even an option.”

“It is an option, even if you dislike it or think it unsuitable. In that case, it becomes an option that you have rejected.”

“I need something else,” begged Gabriel. “I’m not going in drag to get my art project.”

“This is New York, Gabriel,” Keiko reminded her son. “There must be a million stories out there, one of them waiting to become the topic for your photo essay. You could go out looking for one.”

Gabriel considered that option more seriously. His mother was suggesting that he could avoid the Giggling Girls Gang by scouting for a new project. Also, Mom was telling him subtly that if he were still at home when they arrive, he would be forced into drag for that evening.

“I was really wanting to get more photos of Michael and Mikki,” he admitted. “It’s disappointing to get as far as I have with a project and not be able to finish.”

“Son, we don’t always get everything that we want in life. But again, you already know that,” Keiko reminded him. “Mikki and your sisters would all love to see you be a girl for this evening. And I’ll admit that I’m curious to see how you’d look as a daughter. But we’re not going to get our way because you’re not comfortable with doing it, whatever the reason. We have to respect your decision. Likewise, you must respect Mikki’s privacy. The price for her appearing in your photo essay is for you to become a girl tonight and to let Akiko and her friends make you over. Since you won’t pay her price, she won’t sell you the right to use her pictures. It looks like no one gets what they want here.”

“You wanna see me dressed up, too?” Gabriel asked his mother, surprised by her revelation.

Keiko smiled at her son. “Of course, I do!” she confessed. “I’d love to see if you’d be as cute a girl as your brother and sisters are. But it’s not so important to me that I’d try to force you to do it or punish you for not doing it. And even though I’d like to see you as a daughter, as a mother, I’m just as curious to see what other kind of photo essay you might do.”

“So, it’s really okay with you if I don’t wanna dress like a girl?” he asked his mother, the desperation fading from his voice.

“It’s okay by me, Gabe,” she confirmed. “I don’t expect my sons always to do the same things. Akiko and Mitsumi are very different. You and Michael also have always been different, even when you do things together. I want you to feel that it’s okay to be yourself.”

Keiko had managed to talk her son out of his immediate stress over the current situation. She would no more force Gabriel to dress up than she would forbid Michael from doing so.

“When you said that I might learn from it, I felt like you were going to push me into it.”

“I understand that, now, and I’m sorry for not thinking it through earlier,” his mother apologized. “I was too concerned that you have the same permission to explore girlhood as your brother. But instead, you also needed to know that you have permission not to explore it as well. You weren’t upset, really, by what Mitsumi said, but by what I said. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right, Mom,” he confirmed for her. “It seemed like everyone wanted me to be a girl today. I felt—well—outnumbered.”

“That sounds like a good description of what you were going through,” she agreed. “I had not thought of the context before saying what I did.”

Gabriel smiled back at his mother and nodded slightly, as he ate the last bite of the omelette.

“Speaking of context, take a look at these,” Gabriel said, opening his three-ring binder and pushing it toward her.

Keiko studied several photographs that her son had put inside protective cellophane pages after printing them on glossy paper. A picture of her three “daughters” with flags in the background drew her attention. She noticed how he had worked the colors and motifs together with their costumes and the flags in the church salon. There were a number of such photos, some with very obvious blendings of motifs and color, yet others done very, very subtly. She could discern in her son’s photos and eye for carefully chosen detail and experimentation with quite a range of angles and various backgrounds, framing the same subjects different ways. She thought back to her grandfather’s photography and what he had taught her about the camera and how to use it. And he had also taught Keiko about context in photography. She had not yet had a chance to share her grandfather’s art with Gabriel, but she wouldn’t likely need to. Such artistry was clearly evident in her son’s photography. Instead of teaching him these principles, she was using them already to understand his artwork.

“You have my grandfather’s eye for photography. And you have great instincts about how to use the camera,” Keiko told her son. “The photo of Mikki and your sisters that you printed for me this morning had your father and me discussing your obvious talent.”

“Oh?”

“Gabe, if you really like photography, we should find you a teacher. These pictures all look like they were taken by an older, more mature photographer. You have a natural talent with the camera that your father and I both wish to encourage. Of course, that’s still up to you.”

“I had fun taking pictures at the Hallowe’en and after church yesterday,” he admitted. “But why did you cry when I gave you that picture this morning?”

“Son, remember that we girls like to cry when we’re happy, not just when we’re sad.”

“So you cried because the photo made you happy?”

“Hai! You took the most loving photograph that I’ve seen, and I’ve seen many. Your father said it was a picture of all of our children.”

“But I’m not in it because I took it.”

“That’s what I thought, too, but you’re father noted that you were simply behind the camera instead of in front of it.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way before.”

“You showed how much you love your brother and sisters in that picture as surely as if you were hugging them in the photo yourself,” Keiko explained to Gabriel. “You framed that scene to embrace them and you snapped the shutter as if to kiss them. That’s why I cried over the photograph.”

“Well, I don’t think I thought about all that when I took the photo.”

Keiko smiled at her son. “You didn’t have to,” she assured him. “It was already in your heart.”

“I guess that’s why they call it a ’loveseat’?” he mused. “Huh, Mom?”

She stepped right next to Gabriel’s chair and dropped to one knee. Keiko kissed her son delicately on the cheek. As if on cue, his tears began to flow once again. Then in what might be described as a moment of expected surprise, Gabriel reached around and hugged his mother.

It was a strong hug.

A manly hug.

“That’s okay, Gabe,” she said as his tears continued streaming lightly and gracefully. “A healthy boy always has just the right amount of girl that he needs inside himself.”

* * *

Gabriel sat back in the old armchair as he toyed with the various lens and other settings on his digital camera. Thus he could experiment with focus and lighting. He had completely blurred the focus then turned the camera toward the parlor door. A blurry figure unexpectedly entered the fuzzy field of view. He focused the lens until he saw a clear image of his sister, Mitsumi, strikingly mature yet somewhat comic pose.

Mitsumi had changed clothes since breakfast. Now she wore a delicate white turtleneck and a pleated gray twill miniskirt. She wore white stockings that extended a short distance above her knees, not quite teasing the hemline of her skirt, and a pair of supple, black ballet slippers with just single straps across their insteps. Over her turtle neck she wore a beautiful turquoise satin blouse, worn unbuttoned, and a gold chain with her cross and a matching bracelet. Her long, black hair she had pulled up and back into a classic ponytail, tied off with with a very large satin hairbow in royal blue, prominently displayed. She had applied just a bit of lipgloss and some eye makeup.

The overall effect of her clothing was quite sophisticated but the oversized hairbow and ballet shoes purposefully kept the look girlish enough for her own age instead of appearing too mature. The turquoise blouse over the white turtleneck was a very nice touch; Gabriel had a favorite turquoise flannel shirt that he often wore over a turtleneck in winter.

Her pose was a the same combination of sophistication and whimsy as her clothes. Mitsumi stood arms akimbo with her fists on her hips, cocking her head to the right, her eyes looking up to to her left, with her ponytail swinging as she struck the pose. The she bent her left leg at the knee at enough of an angle to fan the pleats of her skirt, and daintily stood her foot on tiptoe, taking advantage of the soft leather of her ballet slippers to stretch her foot into a beautiful curve, as if standing en pointe.

Gabriel awarded his sister’s careful modeling with the just as carefully composed use of his camera. He had risen from his seat and followed Mitsumi about the room, taking studied photographs of her each pose. Many standing, others sitting, yet a few on a sofa in a semi-reclining posture. Her facial expressions were great fun, ranging from whimsically cute to mockingly intense, just short of seriously brooding. That, after all, was Gabriel’s own look.

“Sis, you certainly enjoy modeling for me, don’t you? Gabriel remarked. “I have to say you’re doing a nice job.”

“Thanks, Gabe,” she said. “You know why I’m doing this, right?”

“Well, given the theme of the day,” he began, “you’re making one all-out attempt to entice me to wear a dress—”

“Or a skirt,” Mitsumi added. “I’m hoping that you’ll see how much fun I’m having and give in.”

“You’re making a valiant effort, Sis, “he conceded, “but I’m not giving in.”

“Too bad, but if you don’t wanna join in, I guess I’ll just have to enjoy all the fun for myself!”

Gabriel simply continued taking pictures of his little sister, quite impressed with how she portrayed various roles to the camera. Indeed, he wondered where his sister, four years younger than he, was getting her ideas. Her poses seemed fresh, as did her expressions. He would have expected more of Akiko’s influence.

Obviously, Mitsumi had picked up a few moves from her older sister (and maybe from her brother?), but most of what his little sister did came from somewhere else. Nonetheless, her moves, her poses, her expressions all seemed somehow familiar, although not so much in the look as in the feel.

As they continued their spontaneous modeling session, Gabriel himself was nonplussed by how easily he had begun to anticipate Mitsumi’s changing faces and poses. It felt almost as if they were his own.

He stopped.

As if?

They were his own!

“Mom! Please, come here! Now!” Gabriel yelled.

Mitsumi broke into a fit of giggles.

Keiko quickly came into the parlor. “What’s so urgent?” she asked him. Gabriel had been the one who yelled and she had recognized his voice.

“Sis, you have to show Mom what you we’re doing,” he declared. “Show her the pose you struck just before she came in.”

In a strange exercise of turnabout as fair play, Mitsumi blushed. Anxiously, she assumed the pose, but her face stayed silent.

“Mitsumi, that’s not enough,” I insisted. “Show Mom the facial expressions. I can show Mom the photos anyway.”

His sister slowly complied with his demands. As she did, Keiko covered her mouth with a hand and began to laugh. Mitsumi simply giggled.

“Son, she’s so got you down!” Gabriel’s mother told him, still laughing. “She has every nuance down cold!”

“Do I really look like that?” Gabriel wondered aloud.

“Mm-hmm,” his mother confirmed. Mitsumi just nodded, smiling mischievously. Standing next to her son, Keiko reached around his shoulder to give him a sideways hug. “I wondered what you’d look like as a daughter. But I hadn’t thought about how a daughter would look as you!”

“She’s put a lot of effort into trying to change my mind,” I acknowledged. “But I’m still not dressing up like a girl.”

“Well then, you need to talk to her,” Keiko told her son.

* * *

Keiko left them quietly in the parlor. Gabe knew that he had to talk to Mitsumi for her to accept his decision. This would not be comfortable for him because he had to talk about crossdressing, which he had discovered was a topic that embarassed him, and he had to let his sister down, which was always difficult for any reason.

Since Mitsumi was seated on the left end of the sofa, Gabriel sat on the right, then scooted closer to his sister.

“Sis, that was quite a show that you put on just now,” Gabriel said. “You’ve got some talent going for you.”

“Thanks, Gabe,” she acknowledged his compliment. “Do you think I could be a fashion model when I’m a grown-up?”

“Hmm?” her brother mused. “Maybe, although I think you’d be an even better actress. You might get bored with the fashion model’s lifestyle too fast.”

“Oh!” Mitsumi answered in surprise, “I never thought about that.”

“You see, a model would not have done what you just did,” Gabe explained. “You tried to show me what I’d look like as a girl. That was very creative and it was a lot of fun to watch, even if it was a little embarassing for me.”

“But you’re still not going to dress up for us, are you?”

“No, I’m not. It’s not something I can do for you,” he said. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. I can’t be who I’m not.”

“Mom always tells us to be ourself,” Mitsumi concurred with her brother. “Dad says it, too.”

“If I dressed up like a girl, then I wouldn’t be myself,” Gabriel told her. “Would you really want that?”

Mitsumi looked him in the eye and then looked away. “I just wanted you to be in my world today,” she replied quietly. “I hope you’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No. Not mad, but I was afraid.” he assured her. “And I’m happy because you wanted to include me in your world. It’s not your fault, not at all, that I can’t do it.”

“Well, I just like being a girl,” she affirmed, “and I hoped that you might like to be one, too.”

“Much obliged, Sis. That’s mighty kind of you,” he thanked her in his Western accent. Then he continued, “Didn’t-ch’ever think maybe I’m perfec’ly happy bein’ a boy?”

“How could anyone be happy as a boy?” Mitsumi inquired of Gabriel. “Now tell me how, really?”

“When we grow up, we gidda look at the prettiest gals!”

Mitsumi broke out in giggles at her brother’s silly imitation of a cowboy. Then she wrapped her arms around him in a very strong embrace, kissing him on the cheek. He could but return the hug.

“Well, partner,” Mitsumi said, exaggerating her brother’s Western accent, “then it’s best you git a-goin’ before the Powder Puff Posse rides in at sundown. They vowed that if you’re not outta town when they come back, they’re gonna put-choo in a frilly pink chiffon number and four-inch heels to make you go out for dinner with ’em! So Gabe, I guess I’d better help ya saddle up!”

“We really gotta git-choo into a proper cowgirl’s outfit, Sis!” Gabriel endorsed her role, smiling. “Would-ja like ’at?”

“I think I’d like ’at, Gabe,” she said, continuing her Western role.

“We’ll hafta git-choo one, then fer sure,” he confirmed.

* * *

It had been a crazy weekend for our family. Gabriel gently cradled his digital camera and set it down on the end table beside the armchair. He began looking at the pictures from the Hallowe’en party and All Saints’ Vigil in his binder. He noticed a big white satin hairbow also on the end table. It was the one that Michael had worn yesterday at the party and at church. Gabriel knew that his own life had changed that weekend. So had his brother’s.

He had his own momentos for the events of the weekend. Michael, or Mikki, would also need his, or her, own.

And Gabriel knew that nothing would ever be quite the same again.