It Wasn't a Mistake by Tiffany B. Quinn How bad can things get? In his darkest hour, Jerry finds out that his life has been one big character test... And he passed! Its time to retire.

Chapter Five: Making the Retirement Decision

“How are you doing today, Jerry?” Mike greets me as he enters the exam room with my latest test results in hand.”

It’s been two months since the accident.

“It seems that you are continuing your changes,” he observes, “but your height and weight changes are tapering off a little. You’ve only lost five pounds and a little less than half an inch this week. Your testosterone level is continuing to decline and your estrogen is consistent with that of pre-teen girl. Your cells’ twenty third chromosomes are almost all XXY now.”

Someone decided to check on my sex chromosomes a few weeks back. They started to see a few cells with XXY groupings. Not a lot but they were there. It is almost unheard of to have mixed chromosomes. This has the medical folks intrigued and concerned. I am secretly pleased.

I haven’t mentioned my gender burden to anyone—even the psychologist that Mike sent me to after the accident—but it appears to me that the angel had more in mind than what I thought when he said that my burdens would be removed. I have started to hope that I am turning into a girl. I am about the right height and weight to be a slightly heavy sixteen year old girl, my looks are starting to get somewhat androgynous, my genitals look like those of a prepubescent boy, and my voice has gotten higher.

My regression has continued to the point that I now look like an older teenager of indeterminate gender. My hair has grown out to be about an inch long so I am no longer the bald guy. In fact the hair is much thicker than it was before the accident. My skin has gotten almost completely smooth. My beard growth and body hair have not returned.

“Seriously, Jerry,” Mike asks intently, “how ARE you doing?”

“In spite the continuing fever and achiness,” I reply, “I’m feeling better than I have in years. My bad shoulder seems to have completely healed, I’m more limber than I can remember, and I sleep better than I have in a very long. What’s not to like about it?”

“Well,” Mike points out, “It looks as if you’re going to slide back into your teen years and you might end up intersexed if your sex chromosomes have anything to do with it. Your life is nothing like it was. Doesn’t that bother you.”

I try not to look pleased.

With a shrug I reply, “What am I going to do? This is outside anyone’s control. At least I still have a lot of life ahead of me.”

“You will have,” Mike retorts, “if you don’t regress right back into the womb.”

I just shrug. “What can I say?”

“You’re taking this way too calmly,” he points out. “I’d be flipping out if this were happening to me.”

“Well,” I point out, “It’s not messing with my marriage relationship as Aileen has gone. I can retire anytime I want if it interferes with my work. I have plenty of assets so I have lots of options.”

“How is your family taking it?” Mike asks.

“That’s interesting,” I wanly smile, “Samantha and I are getting along better than ever. The boys and their families seem to be alright with it, however one of my daughters-in-law seems to be a little distant as a result of the on-going changes. The grandkids think it is a lot of fun now that grandpa has the energy to play their games with them. We’ve had a lot of fun running around together. My mother and siblings aren’t sure what to think. I send them regular updates and reassure them that this is all a natural process—I’m not doing anything to encourage it. They are all as mystified about this as you and your colleagues are.”

It’s true, Samantha and I are getting along much better. She actually got a job—a low level service job well below her training—but at least it’s a job. She and I have spent long hours talking about how to make use of her college education. She has been doing some heavy thinking and soul searching and is starting to see the need to settle down and start making a contribution to society as well as to earn her own way. It seems that the visit from her mother really rattled her foundations.

This is a good thing.

I’ve kept in close contact with the boys and their families too. It is good to have them all nearby. No one is sure what to make of my changes, but they say that I’m still the same old me inside. Maybe a little more patient than I used to be, but essentially the same old person—just in a younger package.

“It’s people who don’t know me well who are the problems,” I observe.

Some people are convinced that I’m messing with nature and that it is an abomination. Others are intrigued and want to know the secret to my anti-aging formula. I’ve gotten the cold shoulder from a number of people I know who are uncomfortable with what is happening to me. I’m not sure if they are afraid that they’ll catch it or if they think that I’m some kind of pervert.

The office has gotten used to me so I’m able to get more of my work done. Unfortunately, however, I’m finding that I’m getting a lot less respect from people outside of our office who don’t know me. Most people think that I am just an intern when they first meet me. They are very surprised to find that I am a senior staff member.

“Some of those who knew of me before or know what happened to me aren’t sure what to make of me,” I tell him. “Some of those that are uncomfortable with my changes have shunned me. Fortunately the publicity died down, so I’m not quite as much of a freak show. Those who don’t know me or anything about me just treat me like a rooky kid. Frankly, it’s easier on me to not challenge their impressions if I don’t have to.”

“It will get to be real problem at work if this keeps up,” I continue. “Not with my coworkers so much as with our clientele. They don’t take me seriously. On occasion, I’ve even had a few ask to speak to someone more experienced. Heck, I’m the most senior and experienced person in the office. I just don’t look like it.”

Another piece of good news, for me--not so much for others, is that there was a major terrorist event in the country a couple of weeks ago and my story has become old news. The public is now looking in other directions. I still have a few weirdoes bugging me, but it’s not like the days just after the Facebook posting.

“Okay, Jerry,” Mike sighs, “I’m not doing much more than monitoring your progress these days. I think we should continue to do that so that I can write a ground breaking journal article once we figure this out” He grins at me with his tongue firmly in cheek. I know that he’s in this for friendship in addition to the glory.

“Actually,” he continues, “I think you should touch base with the psychologist lady to make sure that you’re not about to come unglued emotionally. I’m worried about how well you are taking all this, my friend.”

“Thanks for the concern, Mike,” I reply, “but I’m doing okay. Really.”

Actually, I’m doing more than okay. I love these changes.

------< O >------

“Isn’t there someone more experienced I can talk to young, err, young man?” the woman asks looking at me doubtfully. She also seems unsure as to whether I’m a young man or young woman. “This project will be difficult and you don’t look like you’ve been here all that long. Aren’t you still in high school?”

I want to get up and scream sometimes. I’m at least fifteen years older than she is.

Instead, I politely tell her, “I am a lot more experienced than I look, however, you might feel more comfortable working with Harry. He’s been here for a couple of years now.”

This seems acceptable so I help her make the necessary arrangements. This has happen twice already this week. And it’s only Wednesday.

It’s been nine weeks now since the accident. I’ve only dropped three pounds so far this week and have shrunk less about a quarter inch—I check every morning. Last time I looked in the mirror I definitely look somewhere between a high school senior and a college freshman of indistinct gender. I’m starting to sound like a husky voiced girl too. Maybe it’s time to pull the plug.

The boss’s door is open and he is in, so I rap on the door frame to announce myself.

Looking up, he waves me in.

“What’s up, Jerry?” He notices my frustration. “Let me guess. You had someone else think that you’re too young to do the job.”

“You got it,” I sigh. “I’m thinking that I need to move my retirement up. I’m not much use to you now.”

“That might be a good idea,” the Boss admits sadly. “You are the best we have, but that fact doesn’t matter if no one takes you seriously. I just don’t have a lot of work for you that doesn’t require interaction with clients. I can have you assist the rest of our staff, but that would be a demotion.”

“Yeah, I know.” I respond. “I talked with the retirement office yesterday. They say that they normally require a hundred and twenty days to process a retirement but can cut that down to sixty days in special circumstances. You need to convince them of that. I’ve got forty days of regular annual leave remaining and about seventy days of sick leave. I can probably talk my doctors into saying that my medical issues are interfering with my work, so I propose that we make this my last week. I’ll file the paper work tomorrow and get a note from the doctor on Friday. I’ll take my remaining time as sick leave as I can cash out the annual leave at retirement. Once I file for retirement, you can start recruiting for my replacement. I can help with training the new person if you want me to stick around a little longer. How’s that sound?”

The Boss looks at me reflectively, “I told you before all this that I thought that you were too young to retire. By appearances, that’s definitely true now, but what can I say? You’ve had thirty good years with the agency. You deserve something new. We’ll miss you around here.”

With that, I get to work finalizing the arrangements for retirement and cleaning out my office.

------< O >-----

“Surprise!”

I just about jump out of my skin.

It is mid-afternoon on my last Friday at work and I just got back from seeing Mike again. The office seemed somewhat deserted with I walked in. When I got to my office, I found a note on my desk asking me to meet with someone in the training room. That is where I am finding the entire division plus a number of old friends.

On the wall hangs a banner declaring “Happy Retirement”.

The Boss gets up and makes a short speech. The agency’s commissioner, who is an old friend, also gets up to make a speech wishing me the best during retirement.

With a twinkle in his eye, he says, “And when you grow up again, we’ll have a place for you.” This got a few laughs from the group and from me.

Some joker had put together a trophy consisting of a small mangled sea kayak model mounted on a board with a plaque saying “Best wishes for a long retirement and watch out for Tour Boats”. It was signed by the entire office.

I spend the next hour greeting everyone, eating cake, and drinking punch.

As the party winds down, several co-workers help me carry the last few boxes from my office down to my car.

With a few handshakes and a hug or two, my working days come to an end.

For now, that is. If I ever start aging again I’ll probably start a second career!

To Be Continued...