Smoke Valley Ranch was a place for people to get away from things. For me, it was a place to get away from boyhood.

The Ranch, by Karin Bishop

Part 1

Chapter 1 — The Fire

I’ve got to put it all down while it’s still fresh; otherwise I might forget the sequence of events, and everything moved pretty fast. Once I started the diary, it was easier, but what happened that brought me to finding the diary? I want to move forward with my life, and not dwell on the past, but it’s important to remember the past–sort it out and put it into perspective–and then move on.

Our apartment building caught fire. Some kids in one of the units had a party that got out of hand, and the whole building went up. Mom woke me up, screaming and coughing, and threw a robe at me that she’d soaked in the bathtub. We crawled along the floor, the black smoke billowing and darkening, then the lights blew out and Mom shrieked. I was behind her, so I came up and gave her a quick hug and told her to follow. I’d seen the doorway just before the lights blew, so she held onto the sash of my robe and we crawled. Suddenly, I didn’t feel the tug of the sash; it was there one moment and gone the next. I turned and headed back, shouting ‘Mom!’ just as a bright light behind me flared and I passed out.

The bright light was from the firemen kicking the door in; they got me out first and took longer to find Mom. She was in a real bad way; some burning curtains had fallen and she’d thrown herself onto me to protect me and had been badly burned in the folds of the curtains, as well as having smoke inhalation, as I did. I sat on a bench in an ambulance, breathing through an oxygen mask, while they moved her stretcher in, and we took off for the hospital.

I passed out again, either from smoke or fatigue, and it was the next day that doctors spoke with me. Mom was in Intensive Care, in the Burn Ward, and they didn’t know how she’d do. I was in pretty good shape; they praised Mom’s quick thinking and the wet bathrobe for saving me and, hopefully, us. Things got blurry for awhile; there were so many people brought in from our apartment fire that I kind of got lost in the shuffle, sitting up in a bed and worrying about my mother while I half-way watched daytime TV, eating bland food and smelling and tasting nothing but smoke.

There was some confusion about me at first, because Mom and I have different last names. Her last name is Kenyon, and mine is Jamison. She had a teaching career under her maiden name and kept it, which turned out well when my father walked out on us. However, my birth certificate had his last name, and every year we’d have to sort things out with my schools.

The other confusion about me was … well, me. I overheard one of the nurses joking that they didn’t know at first if I was a boy or a girl. It had been Mom’s old pink bathrobe, and with my small figure and long hair … well, they were confused. I get that a lot; when I was younger everybody assumed I was a girl. Even my body seemed to assume things; I was by far the smallest boy at school, even smaller than some of the girls. And there were other things about me that weren’t like a boy; my chest was getting puffy and I seemed to cry a lot lately. I used to get angry about it, but then I began wondering if maybe I was being pointed in a direction I hadn’t thought about, at least not consciously. Maybe there was something going on that was unconscious, or subconscious. Maybe my body just had a mind of its own.

The next couple of days were full of tests and mostly boredom. Either way, the days were better than the nights. I had nightmares of fire, and being trapped, and woke screaming several times. They sedated me halfway through the first night and all through the second, but I still slept very badly. After the third day, the hospital suits and I had a conference. To sum it up: Mom was not out of danger and would need a long stay in the Burn Ward; I was well enough to be discharged and they needed the bed; so I was going to be dumped on my aunt, as soon as she got there. Great, I thought, out of the fire and into the frying pan.

My Aunt Jackie was a very nice lady, younger than my mom and, to be honest, probably prettier; and she’d made what Mom called an interesting marriage, but in a good sense. Jackie’s husband Carl Boynton owned Smoke Valley Ranch, a small working ranch that they’d been turning into a sort of ‘dude ranch’. Families could come and camp or stay in a bunkhouse and experience ‘real ranch life’–or lounge around the pool, have a sunny vacation and forget the whole ranch thing.

Mom and Aunt Jackie had been raised on a ranch in Montana, and it was a wonderful life for them, but Mom had moved to the city and become a teacher; you’d never know that she had been a cowgirl of sorts. Jackie had gone to college and become a nurse, but whether it was too many nights in the Emergency Room or just life in the Big City, she wasn’t happy. It was natural for Jackie to marry someone like Carl and work on a ranch, except for one funny thing. Jackie, who according to Mom, had been a ‘girly girl’ when they were younger, now loved ranch life, too, and Carl’s ranch was doing well. The main thing is that Carl sounded like a macho jerk to me. I’d been so young when I met him that I only had a fuzzy image in my mind, but I do remember him saying something about me being ‘under the limit–oughta throw him back.’ Some sort of fishing put-down, I guess.

I’d never cared for fishing, or hunting, or most sports, for that matter. Mom and I had a pretty quiet life, at least after Dad left. I was three so I don’t really remember him, other than the smell of his after-shave. So for the last ten years, Mom and I watched old movies, read, went to the theatre, and talked about Jane Austen or Charles Dickens. Now I shuddered to think about staying at Carl’s ranch for any length of time.

They arrived with a bustle; Jackie had already been to see Mom and was still crying when she saw me. She hugged me and cried into my hair. Carl hung back, leaning against the wall.

Jackie finally pulled back, holding me at arm’s length, and said, “Of course you remember your Uncle Carl, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I said with a forced smile. “Hi, Uncle Carl.”

Carl nodded and said, “Your hair’s gotten real long.”

That was pretty much the greeting I’d expected from him; but they may have had words before they came in because Jackie gave him a look that sent him out to the parking lot to wait.

“You don’t mind him, Laurence. You understand me?”

“Sure–” I started to say, but something in her tone was full of hidden meaning. “Well, I’ll mind him,” I finished lamely.

Jackie sat on the edge of my bed and took my chin in her hand. “Honey, listen to me. I know things between you and Carl are pretty much nonexistent and even then were never the best, and it’s obvious they’re never going to be right. You’re too much of …”

I never found out what I was too much of, because she trailed off and looked out the window, her eyes tearing. Instinctively, I knew what she was thinking.

“It’s okay, Aunt Jackie; she’ll be okay.”

She grinned through her tears and said, “Always could do that, you know? Know what I was thinking?” She looked down at the bed. “No, honey, I don’t think she’ll be okay. She’ll be in so much pain and even if she …”

We both teared up and hugged. After a time, and dabbing with tissue, she said. “First off, stop calling me ‘Aunt.’ Be sure to call him ‘Uncle Carl’, but you might not have that much contact with him.”

“But … you guys are still together, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah, but I mean on the ranch. He’s got a lot of things to do, and I’ve got a lot of different things to do, and you stick with me, out of his way. Things’ll just go smoother.”

“Well, I want to help out; you know, do what I can to help pay you back for putting me up until Mom’s well.”

“There’s no paying involved; you’re family and that’s that. Look, Laurence, Larry …” using the name she had called me when I was little. “… I spoke with the doctors when I saw Evie, and I don’t know what they’ve told you, but she’s looking at eight months to a year in the Burn Ward. It takes that long to grow skin.”

My mouth hung open. “A … year …”

Jackie nodded, serious. “We have to figure on you living with us for at least a year, and maybe longer if she needs to get her strength up. And, Laurence …” she swallowed. “We also have to think about what will happen if she … if she doesn’t make it.”

Chapter 2 — Arrival

I had no luggage; the hospital had to destroy the clothes I wore when they brought me in. I had an oversize set of scrubs and a white terry robe, courtesy of the hospital. No other personal belongings. My whole life–my mother’s life, too–had been lost in the flames.

We got in the car and sat for a moment, me in the back seat. Uncle Carl had his hands on the wheel, staring through the windshield. He cleared his throat. “Just so you understand … you’re family, so you’ll live with us. Don’t expect any hotel treatment; you’ll work same as anybody else.”

Jackie said, “Carl!” warningly.

But I quickly said, “Yes, sir; I understand, and I want to help out. Thank you.” I hoped I didn’t sound too sniveling.

Carl looked at me in the rear view mirror. “Just so you know.”

I nodded, and he started the car.

It took two hours to get to the ranch. We stopped for gas and to pee, and Jackie bought ice cream cones for the two of us–she said Carl didn’t like ice cream. I thought, how can someone not like ice cream?

The cone was long gone and I was dozing a bit when we pulled into the ranch. I hadn’t seen it for years, and I’d been pretty small then, so I looked with fresh eyes–but they were eyes that knew I’d probably live here for the next year.

There was a real Western-style gate, with stone pillars and an arch of twisted wood, with the name ‘Smoke Valley Ranch’ out of darker wood painted red. The road meandered down a slope and you could see the general layout of the ranch in the valley. There was a barn with a large corral, several outbuildings around it, and a riding ring. In the distance was the lake, and a swimming pool sat in front of a blockhouse that was for guests or campers, whatever they were called. Aunt Jackie pointed out an RV lot in the distance and told me about all the new building going on. And nestled in the green of the hillside was my Aunt and Uncle’s house, a whitewashed Santa Fe style rancher.

It was a nice place; the only thing that clouded it for me was the thought of my relations with my uncle … and, always, my concern about my mother.

In the car, they’d discussed clothes for me–since I had none–and Carl said I could ‘Use the grab bag for a start.’ I simply said, ‘Yes, sir.’ Aunt Jackie explained that campers at the ranch always seemed to leave clothes behind, and they went into the grab bag, almost never to be reclaimed. As she told me this, she hesitated as something occurred to her; then she smiled at me and faced forward. I had no idea what that meant, but I’d find out.

I thought that I’d be shown to a room, allowed to unpack, rest, whatever; but Carl said we should eat first, that too much work time had been lost already. Jackie whipped up sandwiches and salad instantly, so we sat in the kitchen and ate after washing at the kitchen sink. Carl took his plate to the sink, at least, before wiping his hands and saying, “Come on out for chores once you’ve got some clothes.”

I helped Jackie clean up, and then she took me to a bedroom that was decorated for a little girl. It was pale blue, with unicorns and rainbows and a white frilly bedspread. I remembered suddenly that their daughter Bethany had died of some blood disease when she was seven or eight. I’d been so wrapped up in my own unhappiness that I’d forgotten about it. Now it all came back when I saw Jackie’s distressed face.

“This was Bethany’s room,” she started, then choked back. “Duh! Of course it is. Anyway …” she gently rubbed her hand against the white enamel vanity. “Anyway, I didn’t have the strength to change it, then I didn’t have the heart … so it’s pretty much the same.”

Instinctively, I went to her and put my arms around her as she choked a sob. She nodded that she was okay and dabbed at her eyes.

“Actually, it’s a good thing, you coming here; the room should be used. We should move on …” She shook herself and smiled. “And who knows … you might like it here. As long as you need to be here …”

I just said, “She’s going to be alright; the Burn Ward is like the best in the state. And the room is fine, Aunt Jackie.” Then I chuckled and said ironically, “No, actually, I’d prefer the hospital ward.”

We laughed and she reminded me to call her Jackie when we were alone, and then told me to sit tight while she got the grab bag. She brought in a large duffel that took two hands to lift, and plopped it on the bed.

“I think we might have a problem, Larry. Carl doesn’t pay any attention to the grab bag–I’m the one that cleans up after folks leave–so he doesn’t know what’s in it.” She grinned. “And that’s the problem. You see, the ones that forget things are usually really little kids … and teenaged girls. So we might find …”

She reached into the bag and pulled out a little cloth. “ … some Barney Underoos, size extra small …”

More digging. “A Rainbow Brite kerchief.”

More. “A pink bikini top, size 34AA.”

More. “A yellow t-shirt that says, hmm … ‘99 and 44/100% Bitch’ … well, you’re a 100% cleaning rag now, bitch!” She chuckled and glanced at me guiltily.

I looked from the items to her, unsure of how much she was kidding. She dropped the things in a pile, and then upended the duffel on the floor. We sorted through the huge pile for a moment, then she excused herself to talk to Carl. I went through the pile tossing every little kid thing in one corner of the room, and every girl thing in the other, occasionally finding something that might fit and leaving it in front of me. I was staring at the results when she came back.

“Carl says just put something on; it doesn’t have to be clean because you’ll just get it dirty doing chores … what?” She had seen my face.

“You’re right; we have a problem.”

The pile in front of me contained exactly two items: a pair of jeans and camouflage boxers. I held the jeans up to me. I was small but there was no way they’d fit; they were probably for an eight-year-old. The boxers were too big for me, and had some questionable stains. Jackie looked at me and then looked at the other piles. Outside, we could hear Carl yell, “What’s taking you? Just grab something!”

“Why does he hate me so much?” I asked.

“He doesn’t hate you … well, he hates a lot of things, but he hates his routine disrupted …” She sat on the bed. “Mostly, he hates life since Bethany died. He kind of goes through the motions, but he’s not the Carl I knew. I hope that having you here might change things, but I hope it’s not too hard on you, too.”

“He’s never liked me, Jackie; he thinks I’m a sissy.” I looked down at my fingers. “And I guess I am, sorta.”

“You know, Larry, you have got to prove to him that …” she trailed off. “Aw, who am I kidding? You’re right. He’ll never be convinced because, let’s face it, you will never have a strong, rugged build. But show him you’re brave; do the hardest work you can without complaint and we’ll see what happens. As to getting you dressed …”

We turned to the girl’s pile and separated things out, finally finding a pair of cuffed jean shorts that actually fit, although tightly, and a red t-shirt that said Abercrombie on it. It had a scooped neck and capped sleeves, and was cropped to show a little bit of my tummy. I felt ridiculous and said so.

Jackie was having none of it. “Here’s how it works. We go out there and I tell Carl that we did what he said; we just grabbed stuff and nothing else fit. Heck, it’s just going to get dirty anyway, right? Then you work your butt off today. I mean it, Larry; really work hard with no talkback. Okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, miserably. “What about shoes?”

There had been some sandals and flip-flops in the bag, but Jackie left and came back with some low-cut Keds that were obviously for a girl or woman; they had blue stars with red outlines on a white background.

“These might fit,” Jackie said, grinning. “Although I don’t know if you’re supposed to wear ‘em or salute ‘em!” We found socklets in the pile and wearing two pairs, the Keds fit. “Now let’s go.”

It went exactly as I feared. Carl saw the two of us standing there and said, “What the hell is this?”

Jackie said, “You said to get dressed in anything. You don’t know the grab bag; only ones that ever lose anything are little kids and girls. There ain’t much in it besides this stuff. I thought it was more important to get Laurence out here so some work could get done.”

“Yeah, well …” he began, uncertainly. “But those aren’t work clothes. Weren’t there any overalls, or jeans at least?”

“Carl, you know as well as I do the campers don’t wear work clothes on vacation. And the only jeans were for real little kids and Laurence couldn’t get ‘em up past his knees.”

Carl stared. “Yeah, but he looks like a goddamned girl–”

“Excuse me?!” Jackie nailed him. “A what? Do you want to re-think that last statement?”

He seemed to shrink. “You know what I mean, Jackie. It’s just those clothes and the long hair and the whole way he looks …”

I knew what he meant, but I didn’t want this to go on. “Uncle Carl, there’s no one here to see how I’m dressed, and you got chores that need to be done, right? So I’m ready to work.”

Jackie’s squeeze on my shoulder told me I’d said exactly the right thing. Carl grunted, nodded once, and waved me over, handing me a pair of rawhide gloves that were huge on me. Jackie went back into the house while Carl began telling me what we were going to do with hay.

The rest of the day was a sweaty, painful, pitiful comedy. Carl wanted me to load hay bales on a flatbed; I couldn’t even lift them. He wanted me to hold a big steel pipe while he welded it; it was so heavy I couldn’t support it and despite everything I did, it was wiggling all around, spoiling the weld. Holding all that weight made my upper body sore; my chest really hurt. Mucking out the stalls I could do, but I couldn’t hammer nails fast enough or strong enough on a new stall, even using both hands to swing the hammer. Carl took the hammer and gave me a pail with curry brushes and that led to the best part of the day, caring for the horses. I’d always liked animals although I’d never been near horses. I was brushing one beautiful chestnut when I noticed Carl watching me.

“You got a real nice touch, Laurence. Dynamite doesn’t like anybody, usually.”

“Oh, he’s a great guy, aren’t you?” I asked the chestnut, who nuzzled me. “Just wants quality treatment, right? You bet you do!” I leaned my face against his big face.

Carl smiled for the first time. “A touch with horses is a real gift. Never knew you had it.”

“Neither did I, I guess,” I shrugged. “But at least there’s no heavy lifting involved.”

Carl actually chuckled, and said, “Oh yeah? Try to lift his hoof; check his shoe.”

I’d never done this before, but it seemed that I should look the horse in the eye and slowly lean down; I took his leg and gently nudged it. He bent it, lifting the shoe. I looked at Carl, who stared, open-mouthed.

“Damn! That was beautiful! Laurence, you’re hired. Horses and you … between what I can teach you and that gift you’ve got, the herd is in for some fine times.”

He handed me a tool and told me how to clean the shoe. I repeated with the other three legs and then Carl called it a day. We went to the house and cleaned up. After I washed, Jackie tossed me a white scrunchie to hold my hair in a ponytail, and told me to try the sandals. So that’s what I wore into the kitchen; Carl swallowed and stared at first, shook his head, and finished the cold water he was drinking.

At dinner he raved about me and Dynamite to Jackie, who beamed. He seemed to forget what I was wearing. I sat blushing, so I reined him in by telling him to tell her about the other chores. Carl acknowledged that I ‘wasn’t worth spit’ when it came to the heavier jobs, but was a whiz with the horses. Jackie smiled.

“You know, honey, I could sure use some help to get the place ready for the season. And if our reservations keep coming the way they’ve been, Laurence would be really helpful with the campers.”

That began a discussion which probably continued long into the night. All I know is we finished dinner and I helped Jackie with the dishes while Carl went to watch TV. Later we joined Carl and watched some detective show, all three of us criticizing the acting and silly story. We actually had some laughs together. I began zoning out and Jackie announced that she had to get me to bed early, so we went to ‘my’ room.

Jackie closed the door and sat on the bed next to me. “I want you to make yourself as comfortable as you can, Larry. Make this as much of your home as you can, because you will probably be here a long while.”

“I know,” I shrugged. “At least Uncle Carl’s not so mad at me anymore.”

“He’ll come around more and more as time goes on. I’m proud of the way you handled him today.”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t handle him! I sucked at everything he needed me to do. Except the horses.” Something occurred to me. “You knew I’d suck, didn’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation.

She grinned and nodded once. “Pretty much. I know about the heavy, hard work that Carl does every day and I know there’s no way you could do that work, physically. That’s not a criticism, simply an acknowledgement of fact. I’m much stronger than you and I know that I couldn’t keep up with him. But work is important to Carl; it’s one of the things he defines a person’s worth by. It was important that you try, not that you succeed. That showed him what you’re made of, and that’s something else he defines life by …” She trailed off, distracted by the vanity.

I reached over and put my hand on hers and squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry about Bethany.”

She put her other hand on mine. “I know you are, sweetie. And thank you. You wouldn’t believe how much losing her hurt Carl …” She took a ragged breath. “And he’s withdrawn since then, into hard work and … well, mostly grunts.” She grinned a little. “But you did real good today, because you showed you’re not afraid of hard work–even if you suck at heavy lifting!” She nudged my shoulder with hers and chuckled.

I nodded at the truth and sighed a little myself. “Horses were nice, too. Dynamite’s a beauty.”

“Yes, he is, and you have no idea how much you impressed Carl with whatever you did out there. He sets a high value on horsemanship. And you’re off the hook now.”

“Off the hook?”

“From the heavy lifting. He knows you tried, really tried, and he knows you can’t do it. But he also knows you’re willing and able to do anything you can, especially with the horses. So now you’ll be helping me.”

She stopped there and sort of tucked her chin in, thinking.

I said, “Anything I can, Aunt Jackie.”

“Jackie, remember?” she chided gently. “You’ll be a big help, I’m sure of it, but …” She came to a decision. “But I want you to think about something.”

Then she paused, and I nodded helpfully to let her continue, but she took her time.

“I’ve known you since before you were born, and your mom’s told me a lot about you, and I’ve gotten to know you better in the last day than I have over the years. What I’m going to say might offend you, but hear me out.”

I had no idea what was coming.

“Laurence, you’re not very much of a boy, in the manly department, I mean. The life you’ve led, the things you like, the way you look physically, and … even the way the horses respond to you … it all seems as if you’d have been better off being a girl than a boy.”

I wasn’t offended; I knew exactly what she meant. “It’s okay, Jackie, I understand. There were times when I thought that things would be even better for Mom if I were a girl. Better with Mom. I mean, mother and daughter things. It was so awkward when she tried to get me in Cub Scouts …”

She grinned. “I heard about that. Two meetings, was it?”

“One campout. Scouting and me, well … not meant to happen. Anyway, I know what you mean.”

We sat in silence for a time. Then she said, “Larry, have you ever thought about … exploring? Trying things … as a girl, you know, to see how you feel?”

“I never really thought about it before, but lately I’ve been wondering why my body doesn’t develop like the other boys, and I don’t seem to think like they do–I mean about the same things–and lately just kind of wondering …” I trailed off. I had never said anything like this out loud.

Jackie took my hand. “It’s not just the grab bag We could go to town and buy you some work clothes, and we will, but think about this: right now, over the next few days, you’ve got a chance–we’ve got a chance–of getting Carl to start thinking of you as a girl and not a boy. He won’t work you so insanely hard if you were a girl, and the kind of work you can do–and it really is work that we really need done around here–well, it’s work that could be done by a boy or a girl; maybe even better by a girl. And of course, you’ll have the horses.”

“So … what? Put on a dress and flounce around?”

“Don’t be silly. Or offensive. We’ll slide into it, the way we started today with the things in the grab bag. Carl can’t argue about the clothes if they’re the only thing around, right? He wouldn’t want you wearing my clothes, and his are way too big. So it’s the grab bag. And the way you helped with the dishes … look, Larry. If you just keep going the way you’ve started today, there won’t be any need for flouncing. He’ll just begin to see you doing what he considers ‘women’s work’ and in time he’ll mentally put you in that category, and I think things will settle down.”

I thought about it, and thought some more. The funny thing was, it wasn’t unattractive. In fact, there was curiosity and maybe interest in the idea. I told her so; she hugged me and took me into the bathroom. She’d laid out some supplies and told me how to wash and moisturize my face, and to brush my hair and how to put it up for bed. I stared at her, and she just shrugged and said something like ‘Go ahead; wake up all tangled and snarled!’ so I let her gather it up loosely with her fingers and then she did a gentle braid.. Then she handed me a giant t-shirt, and told me to use it as a sleep shirt.

I put in on; it swallowed me, coming down to my knees. Looking in the full-length mirror, I had a thought that it was big enough to be a dress, which brought up some strange possibilities … Back in the bedroom, Jackie looked around and said, “Make this room yours. I mean it. Put anything up or take anything down you want.” She picked up one stuffed pony. “Except for this,” and took it, cradling it and gently stroking the mane as she left.

I looked through the closet and vanity, and found a nearly-full diary in a drawer, with a new one in a box underneath it. I felt my heart clench for the loss of Bethany, so I decided to start the new diary tomorrow.

---

What follows is an expanded account of my diary entries. I recreated conversations as best I could and filled out some of the short entries and added as much detail as I could remember.

---

Chapter 3 —Things Girls Leave Behind

Yes, I arrived yesterday, but this was the first full day on the ranch, so, New Diary, I’m starting things here. Whew! So much to tell …

I was awakened at six by my Aunt Jackie, who asked if I’d thought about our discussion from last night. I told her that I agreed with her; she said to trust her on how to handle things–giving me a very serious, direct look until I nodded and told her I agreed–and then I went to shower. Jackie gave me SPF 45 suntan stuff, so I rubbed that all over me after the shower. She’d laid out some things from the grab bag–I guess she’d washed everything during the night. She’d found a pair of sand-colored shortalls, like overalls that ended in shorts, and a burgundy AE tank top that was cropped so high that when I put it on and the shortalls over, you could see the skin of my waist. I freaked a little, thinking about what Uncle Carl might say, but Jackie said to trust her. She handed me a ball cap from a feed store, and showed me how to pull my hair through the back, making a ponytail. She’d also found a small pair of hiking boots with either a graceful design or logo on the outside. They fit with two pairs of socks, so I was set.

Carl had eaten so I ate quickly–yogurt, granola, some vitamin pills like the ones Mom got for me, and half a melon. I asked Jackie about it, and she said to leave the nutrition to her. I met Carl at the stables. He looked long at me, grunted, and then started to teach me about horses.

I don’t think I can ever remember everything! In the tack room, he lectured me on every little tool and name of every piece of a saddle, and said there were horse-training books in the house that I should read. He explained the check-out system for the campers, and the names and nature of all the horses. Basically, I’ll be in charge of everything that has to do with horses. Apparently they have college guys come during the summer to help with the heavy ranch work, and a ‘summer girl’ to run the camper end of things with Jackie. I didn’t say it out loud, but I thought, ‘So, since I can’t do any heavy ranch work, that means that I’ll be ‘the summer girl’ …’

Oddly enough, I didn’t mind thinking about being ‘the summer girl’ since it fit in with what Jackie had talked about.

Lunch was simple; Jackie had set out slabs of meat, cheese, bread and fixings, so we ate quickly. I sort of asked Carl if they were going to get a college guy and summer girl again this summer. He stared in the distance and said they’d probably need to. Maybe. Hmm … And then a grunt.

After lunch, Carl showed me the coolest thing: They have ATVs–these three-wheeled all-terrain vehicles, six of them, that they rent out. He showed me how to prep and start the things, and we rode around the ranch–he wanted me to get the layout in my head, and I think he also wanted to show it off. I was gushing (I hope not too much) about how great it was, and I got a friendly grunt from him. I guess in time I’ll learn what all his sounds mean.

We wound up at the bunkhouse and he took me through it, explaining as he went. Then he showed me the quarters for the summer girl … and it was a mess. There were clothes laying around, and it looked lived-in but thrown about. Carl was incredibly angry, and he pulled a cell-phone off his hip and called Jackie. I noticed a base and another phone on a shelf in the room, and I realized they were using the walkie-talkie function. So they weren’t completely shut off from the modern world!

Listening to them talk, I learned that, in a nutshell, the girl had gotten pregnant. Jackie reminded Carl of how quickly she’d taken off. Apparently she left to chase the guy responsible. Jackie said she’d discovered the mess at the end of a long day, and somehow had not gotten around to cleaning up. She said she’d be down with supplies; that calmed Carl down. He did the standard ‘can’t get good help’ and ‘kids today’ grumbles.

While we waited for Jackie, he showed me the pool and pool equipment. I actually knew more about it than he did, because I loved the pool at our apartment and had a sort-of friendship with the guy who maintained it. I said a couple of things about the chemicals and Carl’s eyebrows went up and I got a grunt. So … Carl put me in charge of the pool. He said that any college guy they hired had to be a Red Cross-certified lifeguard. I could keep the pool going and generally run things; he said he wasn’t too sure about the minimum age but I should think about getting certified, too.

Jackie arrived with the truck, boxes, bags, and cleaning stuff. Carl left us in the summer girl’s quarters and Jackie turned to me and then it got real interesting …

“I really did forget, you know, or at least wasn’t looking forward to doing it,” she said. Then she wiggled her eyebrows for some reason and grinned as she said, “But now …”

The girl had just grabbed what was important to her and left the rest. Jackie swept the toiletries into a garbage bag, then began collecting clothes while I went around the room putting objects in a box, like an old picture frame, a stuffed zebra, a subway token, and so on. Jackie told me about the girl, Miranda, who’d been a good worker until she started hanging with one of the campers; then she seemed to change overnight.

We chatted about the ranch and how I’d fit in, and she surprised me by saying that I’d be getting schooled tomorrow! School-age children in the area were visited twice a week by a tutor working a circuit, and I’d begin tomorrow. The tutor already had my school files and worked out a lesson plan that allowed plenty of time to work on the ranch. So, two full days of school (two days apart) and the rest filled with work … I didn’t know if that was good news or bad.

Jackie thought that Carl’s plans for me were a little too ambitious. She said there was no way I could be in charge of checking out ATVs, horses, and the swimming pool at the same time. I asked about the ‘college guys’, and she said we should see what I’d be best at and happiest doing–she kidded about not picking ‘mucking out the stalls’–and they’d interview guys for the rest of the jobs.

More stuff to think about …

Things took a weird direction when she found Miranda’s swimsuits; among them was a one-piece Lifeguard’s suit, red with a white cross on the chest. Jackie held it up. She wanted me to try it on, she said, because I might get certified as a lifeguard and they wouldn’t have to get another suit, which was really good quality and probably expensive.

I thought about what we’d talked about, and how I felt about things, and said ‘sure.’ Here’s the even weirder direction: I went to the bathroom to try the suit on, which fit pretty good–I guess Miranda and I were about the same size, which set my mind going in strange areas. Anyway, I came out, with my hands over my crotch because of the little bulge there, and Jackie said, ‘you know, from what I understand, you can sort of … tuck things away between your legs and it’ll fit better–dancers do it’ and I knew instantly what she meant, and I blushed. I mean, my aunt was talking about my genitals!

But … I went into the bathroom and pulled the suit down around my thighs and pulled my small penis back, but my little balls looked weird, and I remembered one time on a bicycle seat where I shifted my weight and things went very strange, and I discovered that I’d somehow rammed my testicle back up inside me. It popped out later, but maybe … I felt around and was able to slide my testicles back up into me, leaving little sacks of skin around my tiny dick, which now fit snug between my legs with the empty sacks around it. I slid the suit up and by the time I got the straps over my shoulders, I knew Aunt Jackie was right. I also knew that I should just as well keep things between my legs as they were, if I could.

I went back out to show Jackie–who stared at my crotch and grinned at me–and said I looked real good. I knew what she meant, and didn’t blush–I felt good about it, somehow. I sat on the bed next to her and looked at the box of clothes that Jackie had folded and didn’t have much to say. Well, for some reason I did say that Miranda must have been flat-chested because the suit fit me pretty tight.

Actually, I said, ‘”She must not have had much up here.”

Jackie was quiet for a moment and asked, “Would you like something up there?”

I blushed again and my mind kind of went a lot of which-ways at once and I blurted, ‘Yes!’ without thinking–and instantly I knew it was what I wanted.

Jackie looked at me and Time kind of stopped and my breathing got really shallow and I could feel my heart pounding. It was like holding your breath, right before you blow it all out; there’s this kind of quivering expectation. My aunt reached over and hugged me and said ‘we might be able to do something about that’ and ‘I love you, you know that?’ and I felt like somehow, everything had changed–maybe even more than after the fire.

I was still looking at the clothes in the box, and Jackie noticed. She rummaged around and pulled out a short denim skirt.

“Just out of curiosity …” she said, still holding it.

I didn’t hesitate; I slid the skirt up my legs, stood, and zipped it up. It just lay on my hips and Jackie said ‘Oh, my God!’ and pointed to a door mirror that was propped up against one wall. It looked like a girl was wearing this red tank top and skirt but the main thing is that curves were there and as I turned, the girl in the mirror turned, too.

We both knew what it meant but didn’t talk about it; I said something like ‘wow’ and then went back to the bathroom and put on my clothes, handing the folded suit and skirt to Jackie when I came out. I had my hand on the top and bottom of the stack and she placed her hands in the same position, and as we did it, our eyes locked and some zap of understanding went between us. I helped her move everything to the truck, and then we put on gloves and sprayed, dusted, swept and mopped until the whole room was clean and aired-out and impersonal. I thought we were going to drive straight back, but Jackie said she’d show me a different view of the lake and we bumped around this dirt road until we came onto a cliff with the whole valley spread out below. I gasped in pleasure at the vista.

Jackie surprised me. I thought she would talk about me living as a girl. Instead, she began talking about growing up with Mom. When she was younger, all Jackie could think about was leaving their ranch in Montana–she was a little boy-crazy. Mom was almost a tomboy, doing all the outside work, while Jackie stayed inside with their mother. Then Mom left for teaching college and Jackie was fully dedicated to a nursing career. She’d tended enough cuts and sprains and broken bones among their ranch hands and loved it, but she wanted a taste of the big city. She spent a few years at County General Hospital … until she met a big cowboy in the ER, getting stitches from a ‘barbed wire attack.’

She knew cowboys and most of them were fake–‘weekend cowboys.’ She also remembered how rough some of the real ones were, the ones that worked her family’s ranch. But Carl was different, and gentle, and 100% cowboy and 100% man. They started dating; she was reluctant to see his ranch, fearing she’d hate it because of her past, but began spending more and more time there until she realized that it was the life she truly loved, and the man that she truly loved. They built it into a small success, and Bethany was born, and life was great … until Bethany died.

Then Jackie began talking about her girlhood with her sister, the fun things she and Mom did and the miseries and joys they’d shared. I liked hearing the stories, but didn’t know where it was headed. Jackie finally said that all she knew was that Mom had wanted a daughter. She loved me, of course, and I didn’t doubt that, but I knew Jackie was right and I told her that. Mom and I had talked a little bit about it and I knew that she’d have been happier if I’d been born a girl. I often thought we both would have been happier.

I told Jackie all of that, and she nodded and hugged me. I decided that I’d follow her lead, but also let my own self guide the way. I told her that I was absolutely certain that something had happened to me when I wore the swimsuit and the skirt and looked in the mirror. It wasn’t the clothes as clothes, or the fact that I looked naturally like a girl; it was the fact that it felt right. Things kind of came together. Into focus. In my life; in me. There was this absolute, certain moment of ‘Of course!’ and it was like, finally, the universe made sense. I was worried about Carl, but Jackie said again to trust her, so we hugged again and drove back to the ranch house.

I went into this in detail because it set the tone for everything else that followed.

When we got back, we stored Miranda’s things and I went to wash up. I helped Jackie with dinner, wearing an apron she handed me. Again, when I served Uncle Carl–still wearing the apron–I got ‘the look’ from him, and then he’d look away. After I cleared the dinner things and we washed, the three of us sat in the kitchen over coffee and discussed things. Actually, I sat and sipped and they mostly discussed me. We worked out that I’d spend time working and getting to know the horses before the season started, and I’d learn about management from Jackie, too. I remembered Jackie telling me about her and Mom as girls, and realized that I’d be like both of them put together, working inside and outside. I didn’t mind the work, because Mom had raised me to it, but was concerned about the tutoring.

Jackie said we’d find out tomorrow, and I should get to bed earlier. I left them talking and got ready for bed. Jackie came in and asked if I wanted ice cream and a little TV; I was already in the sleep shirt but she said come on down anyway. It was real home-made stuff from a big batch that Jackie had prepared before they’d heard about Mom. It was unbelievably delicious, and I was disappointed that Jackie allowed me only one bowl.

She dished out a big bowl for Carl, and I said that when we’d stopped for ice cream on the way from the hospital, she’d told me Carl didn’t like ice cream. She grinned and said it was cones he didn't like. He loved ice cream but ‘it’s just his way to be persnickety’ about how his ice cream was served. I chuckled and told her I’d never heard ‘persnickety’ outside of a book and she just grinned and shrugged.

I sat on the couch next to her while we ate and watched a Frazier rerun. I got another look from Carl, and realized that I had my hair loose around my shoulders, my face was shiny from moisturizer, and my legs were tucked under me on the couch like I usually sat with Mom, with my knees showing under the sleep shirt. I must have looked very much like a girl, even though I hadn’t consciously tried, but I suspect that Jackie had manipulated events and my respect for her grew. She was gradually getting Carl used to seeing me in traditional feminine ways–serving his food in an apron, my long hair fixed in a variety of ways, how my bare legs looked, and so on. Smart lady!

I brushed my teeth and went to bed. And this was only my first full day!

End of Part 1