“Twin, wake up. Come on, we have to get upstairs.” Marlene charged into the closet and started making a terrible racket.
Darlene responded languorously this time, stretching both arms, brushing his hair back. “I’m tired of you being in a hurry. What if I don’t feel like it? Then what would you do?” Though by the time he finished the sentence he was on all fours searching under the bed for his mules. Actually he looked forward to going upstairs tonight. Visits with the girls were getting interesting if at times a bit harrowing. When he tried going up during the day he couldn't get the door open.
“I’d haunt you all day and night,” she answered. “You’d never be able to sleep.” He could barely make out her words, muffled as she was by tightly packed clothes, rummaging noises and hangers and boxes being pushed aside.
She came out with two yellow ankle-length Snow White type costumes with low necks and huge short puffy sleeves. Pearls and small beads were scattered over the bodices and back apparently sewn in by hand.
“What a dumb choice,” Darlene said sleepily head on hands, elbows on vanity. “Besides I’m tired of you bossing me around. You go alone. If I feel like it, I’ll come up - maybe.” A rather sham display of stubbornness he admitted even to himself - and where did those clothes come from? Where did she find even half the ones she brought out
“Let’s wear corsets this time,” she chortled. “I don’t like them but you’re right they give us better figures.” She produced two corsets from inside the closet and pulled the fastenings tightly on Darlene until he groaned. He got his revenge by lacing Marlene until she shrieked.
Lacy silk drawers, black stockings and low heeled white pumps came next. She found two white wigs from somewhere which made them look like an 18th Century painting. Makeup was theatrical with lots of white powder and bright red lipstick. Marlene insisted on a black beauty spot for the right cheek. She pulled Darlene to the mirror and took charge of minor adjustments while he waited complacency incarnate. With chandelier pierced earrings and dog collar cameos they were ready for an audience with Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI - before their unfortunate accident.
As they started up the stairs hand in hand Darlene stopped and gave her a hug. “I still love you even though you’re so darn bratty.”
She kissed him back. “I love you too even though you’re just a wimpy boy!”
“You didn’t have to say that,” he retorted fuming and taking a mock swing at her as she reached the door.
Ignoring his unsuccessful violence she turned serious. “You have to help Leticia and be her best friend like I was. She has a hard time with her brothers. You’re almost doing a good job of being me, but stop worrying whether you’re a boy or girl, because you really aren’t a boy anymore. Not really.”
Darlene didn’t answer. Down inside he knew she was right.
“Well here’s our Bobbsey Twins again.” Clara was outstandingly snide tonight as they came in. In the mood for a night of hazing Darlene thought. “Whoa, something’s happening to our sissy boy. Look at his skin, his hair, his lips. Or should I say hers (cackle, cackle).”
“What’s wrong with them?” Darlene said his voice rising. “Hey, his voice has changed. It’s girlie now. Pretty soon he’ll be Miss Soprano - and not one of the mafia (more cackles).”
Emma put her sewing down on the table with an annoyed look. “Come here,” she said gently and we slid together, Emma all healthy and wearing a corset and long skirts. “It’s good to be a proper lady again,” he thought.
Abby and I wore our huge, new hats which madame had covered with fake flowers and pheasant feathers. They made us taller than most of the men we saw. Fawn-colored ankle length skirt suits and matching kidskin high shoes, gloves and handbags were the style today. We twirled our open parasols thinking we looked very grown up indeed. We had sneaked out of the hotel unchaperoned to window shop along Market Street!
Today we were in the big city with Mr. McDougal, coming to be fitted for evening gowns. Abby was getting engaged to Harvey Tobin, son of a wealthy San Francisco banker. Tomorrow night we were guests of honor at Harvey’s home where their betrothal would be formally announced. I’m going to be Maid of Honor at Abby’s wedding.
We passed two workmen lounging on a pile of lumber. Both stared rudely as we approached and one croaked “Hey, Gus, t’row yer glims on dat layout!” to be followed by Gus’s equally unintelligible “Chure yer dead next! (pause) Ain’t Frisco a bear?”
Chins high we glided past shrugging off their loutish behavior and placed fingers to lips to keep from giggling. At the street corner we lost control and laughed all the way back to the Palace Hotel. Passersby frowned and muttered as we hurried past. They must have thought we were two escaped lunatics.
Mr. Mcdougal was furious when he learned we had been outside unescorted. We were banished to our room all day until dinner. I thought I was going to get it but Mr. McD. knew his daughter well enough to figure out who instigated our misbehavior. Whenever mischief has been done you can always find Abigail nearby. I think her future husband will have his hands full.
The next morning at Madame’s the gowns we ordered weeks ago were lacking only a few finishing touches. While we waited in the main salon Mary and Millie showed us all the new styles and gushed over Abby’s coming engagement. As we examined the new French fabrics I half-saw an older woman walk by holding the hand of a pretty girl of about twelve. The girl’s dress was white, high-necked and lace-decorated with three-quarter sleeves and a calf-length skirt. Her broad white hat trailed satin ribbons down the middle of her back. She wore black cotton stockings and black button shoes with a one inch heel. Curly, blond hair fell to the middle of her back and mixed with the ribbons.
While Madame’s seamstress checked our measurements the girl came out of an alcove looked at me for a minute then came over. “Emma, Emma. I’ve missed you so much.” I turned to see her trailing a long dressing gown over a corset and silk drawers. She seemed familiar.
Mary tittered, “That’s William.”
I was astounded. He was a perfect little girl. “William, how are you. You look so pretty!”
“Oh, I’m not William anymore. Mummy tells everyone to call me Miss Elizabeth. You look so beautiful. I wish I could wear a nice dress like that, but I’m not grown up enough.” He put his hands to his chest.
Emma saw that he had small pearl ear studs in his lobes. His eyebrows had been shaped and his hands were immaculately manicured. There was a large white satin hair bow pinned to the right side of his head.
“Mummy and me and Miss Flint are going to Swich ..., Swizz ...”
Mary said “Switzerland.”
“Yes, Swizzerlan. I get to go to a nice school and mummy knows some doctors who can help me. I’m so excited.”
A saccharine-sweet voice floated from the alcove. “Elizabeth, dear, come back. We need to fit you for your birthday frock. You’ve been so good I’m getting you that pretty one.”
“That’s mummy. When I get it on I’ll show you.”
In a few minutes he was back with a stunning low necked floor length dress in pale blue satin with an exceptionally nipped waistline. “See how I can curtsey and turn. I get to be a princess at my party and I’m going to wear a tiara.” He touched his hair and executed a graceful twirl holding out one side of his dress.
Emma couldn’t help asking “Do you like being a girl?”
He blushed very prettily. “Well, mummy says if I’m good she’ll let me be a boy when I’m twenty-one. So, I’m trying to be nice and only play with girls now. I’ve even learned how to embroider my own dresses. If I’m not nice Miss Flint canes me. Once she spanked me with my dress pulled up in front of my friends. So I’ve been extra good.”
Darlene realized that today must be a long time after Emma’s last visit to Madame’s because there were so many changes in William. “He makes such a perfect girl,” she thought. Darlene wavered a bit thinking maybe he should get upset about William’s, er Elizabeth’s situation, but said nothing.
Mary whispered “Madame will be glad to see them go. Customers raise eyebrows whenever they come in, but nobody wants to face up to William’s mother or that awful Miss Flint.”
As Elizabeth and his mother left he waved prettily with his lace hanky.
Madame had finally readied our beautiful frocks. Mine was constructed from mauve silk, my favorite color and fabric, very décolleté and sleeveless with a three foot train. Abby loaned me a pearl choker and matching earrings. I chose elbow length white silk gloves and a pearl bracelet to wear over my left glove. Our hair and faces had been done at a deliciously extravagant hairdressers. It must have cost Mr. McDougal a fortune. Darlene was in heaven.
The hotel hansom carried us to the Tobins’ where menservants took our hands and helped us down to the pavement like real ladies. Climbing the front stairs was an adventure because we kept tripping on our tight skirts. I felt like a clumsy cow.
Harvey Tobin and a gentleman friend saw what was happening and gallantly rushed down to keep us from falling. In the process my train fell out of my hand and my foot slipped. I’m ashamed to say I showed an ankle to my rescuer. My chivalrous knight looked familiar.
Fortunately the Tobin stairs were spotless so there was no danger of soiling my gown. Pinafored maids with white caps ushered us into an elegant gilt and white powder room to freshen up. We stared openmouthed as another brought us bowls, wash cloths and oil for our skin. Nicasio seemed like a horse barn in comparison.
A footman announced us each by name as we entered the main salon and Abby’s Harvey escorted us to chairs in front of a carpeted dais. McDougal walked over to the senior Tobin muttering something about business to be done. Overhead a beautiful chandelier glittered, all lit by electricity!
“How thrilling to be so modern,” I thought.
A string quartet played Viennese waltzes next to a large buffet table. Several young men stood in a group by the fireplace mantel holding those cigarettes which I think are so much more genteel than cigars. I could hear them talking about the successful Portola Festival last year in 1909. One of them struck a pose with his cigarette and casually mentioned that he had been appointed to the Board of Directors of the Panama-Pacific Exposition. This drew the attention of several of Abby’s school friends who happened to be standing nearby. Fluttering fans and eyelashes dominated the scene for minutes it seemed.
Half a dozen girls from Abby's school and Harvey’s family were seated near us wearing elegant costumes. I couldn’t for the life of me remember a name although Abby introduced me to everybody. Harvey’s friend from the embarrassing stair climb was eyeing me closely, so I took care to move as gracefully as I could. I remembered him now as the young man who purchased the gloves at Madame’s. A banker’s son, oh my, I thought.
After we had been seated for a time dance cards were handed to the girls which the men had filled out. When the quartet struck up a second time I looked at mine. All the spaces were filled with the same name, Burton Crocker III. My rescuer bowed and said “I believe this is my dance.”
I had learned to waltz reasonably well from Miss Carradine so was ready and offered Mr. Crocker my hand. He was an excellent dancer as well I was pleased to note. Moving around in my tight gown and long train was nearly impossible, although I think I did well enough to please. Mr. Crocker whispered in my ear “You dance divinely and you are the most beautiful girl here, a thousand times more so than Abigail.” I lowered my eyelashes and looked away. I must have turned ten shades of pink.
“Abigail and her father cannot speak highly enough of you,” he continued. “Now, Mademoiselle, tonight I am your captive...” He lowered his voice and wrapped his hand around mine. “...trapped in your web from which I cannot possibly escape.” His eyes drilled into mine and I fanned myself furiously.
The dancing stopped when Harvey tapped on a piece of crystal ware. Then he stepped down and assisted Abigail onto the dais. Crocker took my elbow, led me to the front and stood by my side.
“Ladies and gentlemen you know why we are here. I am announcing my engagement to the loveliest girl in the Golden West, Miss Abigail McDougal.” Without further ceremony he looked into her eyes and pulled a ring box from his pocket. A brilliant diamond solitaire appeared which was placed on the fourth finger of her left hand. The audience applauded and the young men at the fireplace gave three cheers. With that the music began again.
“Would this ever happen to me?” Emma wondered. It was all so thrilling. Darlene was basking in Emma’s fascination without a single qualm. He was Emma again.
Crocker led me around the floor again and again, but after several dances I begged off and asked to sit. He brought me a glass of champagne, my first. He cautioned me not to drink too fast or I would get dizzy.
As I smiled up at him I thought “I have known him forever.” My heart was beating triple time and I felt lightheaded. Maybe it was the champagne but I didn’t think so.
After the party Abby and I stood near the door ready for our return to the hotel. Mr. McDougal and the senior Tobin had left earlier to go to their club and talk business so we were to go back with one of the Tobins’ servants as a chaperone. Before we could move Crocker stepped to my side and put his hand on my waist. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harvey pulling Abby into the other room which left me alone with Crocker. On purpose, I thought. I made a little face.
Once my friend and employer was out of sight Crocker seized the moment and repeated that I was the most beguiling female he had ever met. He wanted to see me again — soon. Perhaps some day I would wear his ring, he said. I kept fanning myself believing I would faint.
“Oh, sir,” I said, “you are so forward. I do not know you. Abby says good things about you but I must consider my station and what others think.” (“Why couldn’t I think of something else to say?” I wanted to hit myself over the head a hundred, no a million times.)
“Damn the others,” he whispered. “You are the most enchanting woman in the city. Rest assured I will have your hand.”
I fainted.
Darlene woke the next morning gradually aware of the change in surroundings. The shifts of gender, decades, even centuries could still be disorienting although he didn’t fall apart like he did the first time. His times with Emma were his favorite and she lingered in his mind more than the others. More than ever he wished he was her (You readers must be tired of hearing this.). Crocker’s near proposal of marriage was a complete surprise and left him just as overwhelmed as Emma. Just remembering caused his heart to flutter and his breath to come in gasps as he sat there on the edge of Marlene’s bed.
At the vanity he went to brush his hair and found it was in rollers. He didn’t remember putting it up. Marlene again, he thought exasperated. He picked a floral three-quarter sleeve day dress, his waist accentuated by the anachronistic corset. He looked at his perfect nails and hands and put on a light touch of lipstick. Tan pantyhose and low heeled sandals followed. An eyebrow hair here and there. It was second nature now. Would Mr. Crocker approve?
Linda was in the kitchen making breakfast. “Marlene, honey, would you bring over the eggs?” She groaned inwardly. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I called you Marlene.”
“It’s o.k. mom, you can call me Marlene. I don’t think she’d mind.” It felt o.k. when he said it today, still daydreaming about Abby’s ring. Stretching out his left hand he imagined a sparkly diamond sitting there and felt a little shiver.
“Honey, can you please bring the eggs?”Linda was speaking with some impatience.
“Oops, sorry mom,” I brought over the carton and managed not to break any.
Jeff Decker and Leo Fernandez headed north past the square in Decker’s new carryall. Looking ahead Leo saw a girl in a red sweater and jeans walking on the shoulder and recognized her as Marlene Sullivan, his sister’s little chum.
“Decker, that’s Marlene. Give the kid a ride. She’s probably headed to my place.” They pulled in front of her by a truck’s length and stopped. Leo waved. “Come on, Marlene, hop in.”
The girl looked up and saw Leo and a man she didn’t know. She shook her head. “No thanks, I’ll walk.” She didn’t like Leo and kept going.
Leo shrugged and Jeff dropped him at the ranch gate. Earlier Decker said he was going on to Petaluma, but as Leo watched Decker made a u-turn and went back the way they came. Three days later Decker drove up in a cloud of dust and asked Leo to hide a box of videotapes and a large sealed plastic sack. “Nobody touches these, you hear?” He gave Leo a hard look and handed him a bag of marijuana buds and some white pills.
Leo didn’t think any more about it until deputies came by asking about Marlene. He remembered what Decker once did to a guy who crossed him so he didn’t say anything. Decker was big and ugly and worked out regularly. Somebody said he knew karate.
So Leo was as good as his word. Besides anything could have happened to Marlene. She probably ran away.
To Be Continued...
Comments
Some things are now clearer.
This is an interesting story. I look forward to more.
Arwen's Tears