Chapter 10: The Image of Emma Bovary Arises

“We have a vacancy in the place where I live, Karen,” Jenny said, as the two headed back to class. “Do you know anyone who might be interested in a nice place to live? Our landlady said we girls should recruit someone we’d like to share with us.”

“Really? I didn’t tell you, but I need to leave Susan’s Place by March 1.”

“Great, Karen. You’d be perfect. You’ve met most of the girls in the place now and they all like you,” Jenny said, almost seeming ready to hug Karen right there on the walk up the hill to the Humanities Building.

“Just one thing,” Karen said, adjusting her scarf more tightly about her neck as the cold northwest wind seemed to leak in about her neck, causing her to shiver.

“What?”

“I’m still physically a guy.”

“Hah! No you’re not. No one would take you as anything but a girl. Aren’t you already on the campus records as ‘Karen’ and ‘female’?”

“Well, yes, but will all the other girls in your house accept me as such? And what about your landlady?”

Jenny continued walking and they had already reached the door of the building before she spOKe. “I don’t know. Mrs. Lewis, our landlady, is so nice, but we got a couple of girls who are kind of religious types, you know. They’re nice enough but they may not take kindly to you, once they found out.”

“Thanks, Jenny,” Karen said. “I’d love to join you there. It sounds like a place I’d love to be, but maybe we better not. Besides, another girl in the place has to move, too, and we’re trying maybe to move in together somewhere.”

“Oh that room’s big enough for two, Karen,” Jenny volunteered.

“I don’t know, Jenny.”

“Let me check, OK?”

Karen nodded, and the two entered the building and headed down crowded hallways to their afternoon class.

*****
Karen’s routine over the next few weeks of school gave her hardly any time to reflect on the status of her new life, that of a freshman college girl. She carried a full load of academic studies, followed by a schedule of working in the Drama Department office from 4 to 8 p.m. every afternoon, except Friday, and then from about 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Saturday. She was fortunate to occasionally find enough dead time in the office to do a little studying, but as the time for the spring play rehearsals began to draw near, she saw she’d be kept busy assisting the professor.

Her therapy sessions were rescheduled to Friday afternoons, to accommodate her work schedule; once a month, after meeting with Moira, she was to spend 15 minutes with Dr. Bargmann, mainly to assure that her medications were doing what they were prescribed to do.

Angela’s own schedule had become crowded as well, leaving little time for the two to get together. She had joined the women’s track team, performing in the shot put and javelin tosses, requiring her to spend several hours a day in the gym working out.

“You’re with me Saturday night,” Angela told Karen when they met for lunch on Thursday of the first week of classes.

She said it as a command, and Karen was taken aback. She began to have the same concerns about Angela as she had in the past: that Angela would become her old “bossy” self.

“I was kind of planning to do something with Rami on Saturday night,” Karen said. “She’s been so depressed.”

“She’s such a twit,” Angela said, almost with disgust.

“Oh Angela, she is not,” Karen said, alarmed at her friend’s description. “She’s having a tough time now. Her family has almost disowned her.”

Angela saw that she had offended her friend, and immediately responded. “I’m sorry, Karen, I shouldn’t have said that. I know you like her.”

“She’s a good person and she had to have a lot of guts to stand up against her family’s traditions.”

“I’m sorry,” Angela repeated. “Tell you what, why don’t the both of you come over Saturday night? Does Rami like to cook?”

“Yes, she does. She likes to make traditional Indian dishes. She always hung out in the kitchen with her mom, something that her father got mad about back when she was a boy. He told her that ‘the kitchen’s for girls, not boys.’”

“Well, maybe she’d like to coOK for us. We could all go grocery shopping Saturday and the house will pay for the food, if she’d like that.”

Karen smiled.

Angela kissed her friend and then said: “Good. This way I’ll get to know Rami better and you two can look at the vacant room and see if you’d like it.”

Later that day, and before even telling Ramini about the plans, Karen began to have second thoughts about the idea. She hated to get under the clutches of the demands of Angela, as much as she enjoyed being with her, not only as friends but as lovers. Angela was just so demanding a person.

Then, too, she felt that Angela might also be jealous of Karen’s fondness for Ramini, just as she had shown over Karen’s earlier friendships. Several times, Angela had told Karen that her love for Mark Hamilton was a “fool’s journey.” “He’ll never have you as a wife, dear. He’ll want a woman who can give him kids.” Now that Mark was facing permanent injury, Angela had backed off on her comments about Mark, perhaps knowing how Karen would respond to such callous statements.

Karen nonetheless felt trapped, since she had all but agreed to the Saturday date; and she knew Ramini would likely jump at the prospect of coOKing for a group of girls. It loOKed like a Saturday night date, after all.

*****
Karen and Ramini moved out of Susan’s Place in mid-February into their new “digs” at the house where Angela lived. It wasn’t Karen’s first choice, but the proposal by Angela became the only option after Karen found out there were objections to her moving in with the girls in Jenny’s place.

“I feel so bad about this, Karen,” Jenny told her as they were leaving class several days after she had made the offer. “I felt I had to be honest with all the girls, as well as the landlady, and I told them that you were transitioning.”

Karen nodded. “I wanted you to be honest, Jenny.”

“Tricia and Beverly both defended you, telling the others what a sweet person you are,” Jenny said. “Tricia offered to have you come to the house to meet all of them.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Jenny,” Karen said, hugging her friend.

“I would have loved to have you and Rami join us,” she said. “You’re both such cool girls.”

Karen smiled being described a “cool girl.”

One of the girls who was strongly religious in the house objected to Karen as a roommate, but the other one — a devout Catholic girl who attended mass at the student chapel nearly every day — supported Karen, saying all human “souls” are “God’s children.”

“Mrs. Lewis, our landlady, heard that several of the girls objected to you and decided that she reserved the place for ‘girls only,’ and that she had guaranteed parents that their girls would live in a place without boys around, even if the boy involved was headed into girlhood. Therefore, this place is for ‘girls only,’ she said. And that was that.”

“I understand, Jenny. I really do, and I don’t want to cause any trouble, so let’s leave it at that, OK?”

“I know, Karen, but it seems wrong,” Jenny said. “Isn’t there a campus rule that all approved student housing must not discriminate?”

“I suppose, but I’m not sure it covers my situation,” Karen said. “Besides, I don’t want to start a big fight. Just let it be. I have somewhere else to stay.”

As the two were about to split up to go to their respective classes, Jenny said, “By the way, Mary Catherine, that’s the Catholic girl, wants to meet you sometime.”

“Oh, that’s nice, but why?”

“I don’t know, but she’s very sweet. You might like her.”

“I suppose it’s OK, but I hope she doesn’t want to talk me into going back to mass again,” Karen said.

“I don’t think she knows you were born Catholic.”

Jenny said Mary Catherine might join the next three o’clock girls’ gab session at the Student Union, and Karen agreed that would be OK.

*****
There was one benefit in moving into a house in which most of the eight girls were athletic: most of them were strong and had no problem in moving the few possessions that both Karen and Ramini had. Maggie, a short, stocky young lady who wore boy jeans and a plaid shirt under her lumberjack-style coat, drove her aging diesel pickup truck to carry the materials from Susan’s Place.

Maggie swore like a sailor as she insisted on carrying the heavier stuff, telling Karen and Ramini in a firm deep voice, “I don’t want you girls to hurt yourselves lifting anything too heavy. Let me and Angela handle that heavy f-----g stuff.”

Ramini had a particularly heavy trunk, and Maggie lifted it like it was a feather pillow. As she worked, Maggie smiled and laughed, her broad face a picture of happiness and light. Karen instantly liked the girl.

The residence was an aging huge duplex, converted into student housing, much like the structure that housed Susan’s Place. The building was typical of those built in an area between the State Capitol building and the University campus during the early 20th Century. These were sturdy old places with large rooms, fine woodwork and several stained glass windows. Apparently, they were built for top level state workers or university professors, who used the upper duplex as rental units. As the University and state government grew after World War II, the owners moved out to fancier places on the outskirts or suburban areas, opening them up to be used to student housing.

Karen and Ramini’s room was located in what was one time the living room of the upper flat, surprisingly similar to the room they occupied together at Susan’s Place. It was large and comfortable, with three windows loOKing out over a second floor porch. The house faced west, promising afternoon sunlight would brighten the room.

“I told you that you’d love it,” Angela said as the two girls settled into the place.

“Oh we do,” cooed Ramini.

Karen looked at the tiny dark-complexioned girl, who suddenly gave a flirting loOK toward Angela. The glance was not missed by Angela whose sudden blush betrayed her.

Ramini’s actions disturbed Karen, who wasn’t convinced that Ramini fully understood how her flirtations might awaken more violent actions by some of the girls in the house. Ramini had grown particularly girlish in her mannerisms in recent weeks, and demonstrated that clearly during the time when they moved their stuff into the room. Ramini grew excited about the move after the night she and Karen had visited Angela at the house, and Ramini had cooked supper. Encouraged by several glasses of wine, Ramini flitted about Angela like a butterfly, daintily serving the tall, muscular girl; then when Maggie entered the kitchen as they were cleaning up after the meal, Ramini turned her girlish charms on the chunky girl.

*****
“Don’t you just love it here?” Ramini said to Karen as they prepared for bed on their first night in their new home.

“Yes, it looks like it’ll work out,” Karen said, keeping her voice flat and non-committal.

“All the girls are so nice,” Ramini said, bouncing down next to Karen as she lay on her bed. She leaned in and kissed Karen. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for finding this place,” she gushed.

“That’s OK, Rami, we needed a place to stay. This seemed to be a good place.”

“Karen, I love these girls. They’re all so strong and muscular. I wanted to run my hands all over that Maggie. She’s so luscious.”

She tightened her hug on Karen as she said these words, massaging her soft arms, as if to contrast Karen’s physical daintiness with the sinewy hardness of Maggie and the others.

“Come on, Rami, I’m tired tonight,” Karen said, releasing herself from her friend’s clutches, plunging flat onto her side on the bed and turning her back to Ramini.

“What’s the matter with you, Karen, don’t you want to cuddle with teensy-weensy li’l ol’ me, just like we always do?”

Karen continued to lie on her side, her back to Ramini, who tried ineffectually to roll Karen onto her back.

“Don’t you love me anymore, Karen?”

At that point, Karen turned over onto her back and sat up, so that she was facing Ramini.

“Yes, dear, I still love you. It’s just that I’m tired and I have a busy day tomorrow,” she explained.

Ramini pouted, her words coming out timidly, “Rami is sorry.”

Karen reached over and pulled her friend into a hug. The two hugged silently for several minutes; Karen could feel Ramini’s heart pounding and sensed the girl might be sobbing a bit.

“I don’t want to bother you, Karen,” Ramini said finally. “I love you so much.”

“I know, darling,” she said, kissing the other girl, softly at first and then with growing pressure until the two were in deep embrace, locked in each other’s arms together on the bed. They lay together, kissing intermittently and saying nothing.

Karen awOKe at one point, loOKed at the digital alarm clock next to her bed: “3:17.” She and Ramini were still entangled, their legs intertwined, and Karen listened to the rhythmical breathing of her friend, interspersed with an occasional gurgle. She toyed with Ramini’s braided hair, trying to figure out a way to extract herself from Ramini without waking her. Karen needed to relieve herself.

Eventually, Karen carefully moved away from Ramini and found her way to the bathroom where she opened the door and was surprised to see Angela sitting on the commode.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Angela,” Karen said. “I didn’t know . . .”

“That’s OK, Karen, I should have locked the door. Come in, dear.”

“I’ll wait, that’s OK.”

“No come in, silly, it’s not like we’ve never seen each other like this.”

Karen entered, closing the door behind her.

“If you can’t hold it dear, you’ve still got your plumbing. Just pee in the sink,” Angela teased.

“That’s gross, Angela!”

“Well there’s some advantage to being a boy, you know.”

“Don’t be funny. I sit just like you.”

“Doesn’t this turn you on? Seeing me on the pot?” Angela’s eyes toOK on a mischievous glint.

Karen set on the edge of the tub opposite the commode, her knees almost touching Angela’s. Erotic thoughts raged through Karen’s head as she watched her friend grab a hunk of toilet paper, fold it and reach in to dry herself.

Angela got up slowly, exposing her bushy front giving Karen the sudden desire to place her lips on the hairy crotch, her memory being stimulated from the times she had tasted and licked the girl. She loOKed away, wishing grimly to lose the desire to make love to the smoothly toned Amazon standing before her.

“Come to bed with me, Karen,” Angela said, placing her hands on Karen’s shoulders, moving her body close, bringing the tempting bush almost within licking distances.

“Not tonight, Angela. I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“You know you want to, dear.”

Karen could smell the mustiness of her friend’s privates, a smell that was simultaneously disgusting and yet tempting. Her own tiny penis grew hard; yet, the pain and the hardness of past encounters seemed to be weaker, not as surging and pressing. She had been on hormones for only a short time, and she wondered if they were already having an impact on her impulses.

Karen placed her hands on Angela’s narrow hips, and moved her face into the bush, relishing in the still moistness of the hair, the lingering smell of urine mixed with sexual secretions. She let her head rest into Angela, and the two remained stationary for a few moments, before Karen removed her head, and loOKed up at her friend.

“I’m sorry, Angela,” she said. She got up and moved around her friend to sit on the commode.

“If that’s what you want, OK,” Angela said angrily. “Go back to that Indian cunt if you wish.”

Karen tried to protest, yelling, “It’s not that, Angela. Believe me.” But Angela had fled the room, and didn’t hear Karen’s further words: “I really love you, Angela, but I’m so confused.”

On the commode, she cried as she relieved herself. She vowed not to return to sleep next to Ramini when she returned to her room. Karen slept the rest of the night in Ramini’s bed, leaving the other girl peacefully asleep in her own. Karen’s own sleep was not so peaceful; instead her mind raced back and forth, realizing she had been in the troubling practice of pledging her love to anyone who paid attention to her. Despite trying to avoid Angela’s attentions, she told her in their early morning encounter that “I love you,” and that was only a few after she made the same pledge to Ramini. Besides, there was Mark, whom she had repeatedly felt was her true love? What was going on with her? Where did her true love reside?

*****

“Love, she thought, must come suddenly, with great outbursts and lightning--a hurricane of the skies, which falls upon life, revolutionises it, roots up the will like a leaf, and sweeps the whole heart into the abyss.”
”• Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

As she lay in bed, Karen wondered whether she’d suffer the same fate as Emma Bovary, a love-starved woman who had many lovers, but only found peace when she toOK arsenic to end it all. The novel had seriously affected her, even though she read it as a high school senior and was still living the life of a boy named Kenny. She remembered she had cried like a girl, as she considered the fate of the small town French girl. Her mother had recommended the book to her and perhaps it was then, as Kenny, that she began to have a clue that her own future might lead her into the womanhood she now enjoyed.

*****
It took her a long time to rid the cobwebs from her sleep-deprived brain the following morning, awakening to the cacophony of her alarm. She showered hurriedly, did a haphazard job fixing her hair and applying light makeup realizing she was running late. Yet, she took a minute to check her email.

Karen:

Mark has finally read your letters. You must thank his brother for that: He told Mark that he was foolish not to want to see what a pretty girl like you wrote. I think Mark’s brother is getting to the age where he’s interested in girls. I sometimes wish my boys had never grown up. LOL

Mark would not share what you wrote, but I think he must have liked it. He looked like he was going to cry, from what Peter said.

The doctors and physical therapists tell us Mark is improving, and only time will tell how this will all end.

Hope you are doing fine. Please continue to write.

Love, Patti

Karen typed out a quick reply, indicating she’d write more in reply to Patti later. In the busy time over her move, she had not written to Mark for two days. She vowed to remedy that situation.

*****
Several days later, Karen and her friend Jenny joined the girls for the 3 p.m. get-together in the Student Union. As promised, Mary Catherine was part of the group along with Tricia, Tracy and Beverly. It was the first time that Karen had seen the entire group in the new semester and there were sisterly hugs joined in by all. Tracy, however, was a bit distant and in her brief contact with Karen, her arms barely rose to the hug.

Sensing the girl’s hesitancy, she made a point of sitting down next to her and asking, quietly so as not to attract the attention of the others who were engaged in eager conversation: “How’s Gabe doing?”

Tracy blushed immediately, her fleshy face betraying her unease. “Oh, Gabe?” she asked, as if Karen had referred to some obscure person and not the girl’s boyfriend (who had been briefly a friend of Karen, and the first boy at college to show an attraction to her).

“Yes, our friend, Gabe.”

“Oh, he’s OK,” she said, non-commitally.

“That’s good,” Karen said. “Really Tracy, I am happy for both of you. You are seeing him still, aren’t you?”

Tracy loOKed at Karen, perhaps wondering if Karen was being ironic and a bit snarky, but she didn’t sense anything sinister in Karen’s questions.

“Oh yes, we are, Karen,” she said, her face brightening. “We were able to see each other several times over the holidays. He has a lovely family. I spent a day at their farm.”

“Great. Please tell him ‘hi’ for me.”

“I will Karen, and I’m sorry it all happened this way. You’re really very sweet.”

Karen smiled at her friend and soon the table became full of giggles and girl talk. How pleased Karen was to have become a part of it all.

*****
As Karen expected she might have, Mary Catherine Delaney had a gold cross dangling upon the dark red v-neck sweater, resting between her erect, prominent breasts. She had dark, straight and well-brushed hair that hung to her shoulders and made her pale face look almost white. Dark red lips and dark-rimmed glasses accentuated her paleness. There was a hint of awe in her otherwise wide eyes, and the girl said little, but listened intently as the others talked. Karen felt the Mary Catherine was examining her closely. For some reason, Karen did not feel threatened by the her constant attention.

“Which way you walking?” Mary Catherine asked grabbing Karen’s arm as the girls arose from the table to return to classes.

“Towards Humanities.”

“Me too. May I join you?” Mary Catherine asked as they proceeded out into the wintry day. “Do you like it here? I mean at this University?”

“Yes. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “It’s so different. I never met so many different people.”

Karen smiled. “I know, but that’s what I like about it the most. I’ve met so many different kids.”

The two continued on saying nothing, careful to dodge patches of ice that remained from a brief thaw that had occurred the day before, leaving melting snow to freeze up again. The wind was from the northwest, blowing unobstructed across the lake that bordered the University on the North. Karen knew something was on Mary Catherine’s mind, and it obviously had to do with Karen’s own gender switch.

“Does that bother you, Mary Catherine?” Karen asked.

“Oh you can just call me Mary. That’s what all my family and friends do. Yeah, I’m not used to it, so many different people.”

“You mean like me?” Karen said, deciding that it was time Mary Catherine stop beating around the bush and state her concerns.

“Well . . . ah . . . yes, I guess.”

Karen could see the girl’s face grow red instantly.

“That’s OK, Mary,” Karen said. “I’m not bothered by other people’s curiosity. I guess I am a bit different, but then isn’t everyone different in one way or the other?”

“I know, but you know what I mean. You’re supposed to be a boy.”

“No honey, I’m supposed to be a girl, and I think that’s how God intended me to be born, but somehow my genes got all mixed up.”

“No, don’t say God intended you to be a girl,” Mary Catherine’s voice rose, and the girl suddenly seem to lose her shyness. “You have intended to be a girl, even though God intended you to be a boy!”

Karen was taken aback by the girl’s sudden attack; she had seemed so shy and retiring, but the minute Karen mentioned God, she reacted angrily.

Mary Catherine’s voice returned to her previous soft tone: “I have prayed for you, ever since Jenny told us about you. I prayed that you’d change those girl outfits and return to be a boy. I love you as a sister would love her brother and as one human being must love another. You can’t alter God’s wishes. You were born a boy and you must remain a boy.”

“Thank you for your prayers, Mary, but I don’t pretend to know God’s mind. In this world there are many others like me who have felt they were born into the wrong gender. I’m not sure God would want me to return to my boy’s life, since it always felt so unnatural to me.”

Mary was quiet for a moment, and finally said in a quiet, hesitant voice: “God doesn't make mistakes. Your feelings do.”

Karen felt curious warmth to this caring, sweet young lady; she wanted to disagree with her and argue the point, but thought the better of it. Nothing would be gained by getting into an argument The two approached the bank of steps leading into the huge, multi-columned Humanities Building — a structure built in the 1890s as the showcase of the budding State University. Karen noticed the plaque that adorned a space between two entry ways.

“Did you ever read that sign?” Karen asked stopping and grabbing Mary Catherine to force her to stop as well.

“Whatever may be the limitations
which trammel inquiry elsewhere
we believe this great state University
should ever encourage
that continual and fearless sifting and winnowing
by which alone the truth can be found."
Statement of the Board of Regents, 1894
_________
Memorial: Class of 1910

Mary Catherine gazed at the plaque for what seemed an eternity, as heavily bundled up students passed by them, bound to classes that were about to begin.

“That’s what I really like about this University,” Karen said. “We’re here to get the truth, regardless where it leads us. I’m learning the truth about myself, I hope.”

Mary Catherine finally looked at Karen. She nodded: “I guess I’d better get to class.”

The girl bolted from Karen. It appeared Mary Catherine might have been about to cry.