Jack @ the Greenstalk.
By Angharad.
Author’s Note. I wrote this a while ago for a certain young person who enjoys my stories. It could stop here or it could run to another episode (but no more). Comments from readers would be appreciated. After the mayhem of Falling Off A Bike, this is a gentle tale.
“Where’s your case?”
“Erm, upstairs.”
“Well go and get it then.”
“Erm, okay.” Jack bounded up the stairs to his room and picked up his bag and struggled to take it down to the hallway where all the others were waiting.
“Is that it?”
“Erm, no, I have my back pack too.”
“Jack, use that lovely head of yours for more than wearing hats, will you. Go and get it, and hurry.”
He moved his bag out of the way, into the lounge doorway, then, once more he bounded up the steps and collected his back pack, a blue nylon bag with shoulder straps. He also picked up his baseball cap, which he pulled on with difficulty over his unruly mass of auburn hair.
He’d had a difficult time of late, his cystic fibrosis had been playing up after he’d got a cold and it had turned into pneumonia. He’d spent two weeks in hospital and another month at home taking foul tasting medicines and having physiotherapy to help him breathe. It had cleared loads of gunge off his lungs and his breathing was almost normal again, but his mum felt a short holiday in the sun would boost both of them. Thus they were going off to some island in the Mediterranean, at least he thought it was the Med, maybe it was the Caribbean. At twelve years old, going anywhere but school was an adventure.
His mother looked at her son, he was small for his age as kids with CF often are. Apart from their lungs being a problem, they also often had problems with their alimentary systems, meaning they didn’t develop as quickly or as big as healthy children. So he looked much younger than he was, and more delicate than he was, at least when he was well, he was as boisterous as any other boy.
They boarded the waiting taxi after Sally set the alarms and locked up the house. The dog was in kennels for two weeks and the cat would be fed by their neighbour — she spent half her life there anyway, showing the usual gratitude cats have for human generosity, by totally ignoring them.
Although, Tuppence, as the cat was called, was never far from Jack when the boy was ill, which was a great comfort to him, Snowy, the black Labrador, was similarly bonded with the boy although he wasn’t allowed in the bedrooms.
Jack’s father, John, worked in the petro-chemical industry as a geologist, so he spent long periods away from home. Currently he was in the wilds of Alaska, and whilst his job brought economic comfort to the family, it meant his son was a relative stranger.
In truth, when it was realised that Jack had CF, John had gone off on a drunken bender unable to believe that a son of his was anything but perfect. It had also created difficulties with Sally and although they stayed married, the relationship was far from happy. Hence John Parrish, found work which minimised his contact with both his wife and sickly son. From a distance, in a desert or frozen wasteland, or even a platform in some murky ocean, he got on fine with his family.
Jack idolised his absent father, which was encouraged by Sally, who despite her own issues with John, felt every boy should at least have some respect for his father. John sent them the odd email, sometimes with photos, especially when Sally told him how Jack pored over each one sometimes for hours on end. Then just in case they were lost, he’d print each one off and stick it in his scrap books, he had a box full of them.
Sally was pleased that Jack had stopped asking where his dad was, accepting her answers of, ‘his work is so important to the country,’ or ‘the government asked him to stay and help,’ or the old standby, ‘the weather is so bad, the planes can’t land or the boats can’t sail.’
In the taxi and airport bound, Sally cuddled with her son, both were excited by the prospect of two weeks of sun and fun. The airport was as boring as usual and the security checks and baggage checks were ever tedious, but they smiled throughout, knowing they’d soon be forgotten as the holiday progressed.
Jack amused himself with his book, he was reading Robinson Crusoe, and he half wished they were sailing so he could get shipwrecked and look after his mum. However, he wasn’t sure he wanted to kill and skin goats like the hero of his book, nor did he really want to fight pirates. He liked pirates, especially ones as nice as his hero Jack Sparrow, in the recent film he’d seen. He was a Jack too and relatively small against most of the other men.
After a long flight, where all people did was eat or sleep, they finally arrived in the Caribbean, and Paradise Island. A bus whisked them off to their hotel, ‘The Greenstalk,’ and when they got there, the first problem was discovered.
Jack had his back pack, it was his hand luggage on the plane but that was all. Somehow his luggage didn’t arrive with his mother’s. She was furious and spent most of the afternoon on the hotel phone talking to the airline.
Knowing Jack was a responsible kid, she gave him some money and told him to get a pair of shorts and tee shirt. She ruffled his long shaggy hair and told him he needed a hair cut or she’d put it in pig tails. He poked out his tongue and pulled on his cap and went off to the row of shops they’d seen when they arrived.
He trotted off to the shops, feeling hot in his jeans and hoodie; shorts and tee shirt were bound to be cooler. However, by the time he’d got to the last of the outlets selling clothes he was feeling very hot and bothered. All the stuff that would fit him was either very young in style or very girlish. He didn’t really want a Tellytubbies tee nor a Care Bears one.
In the end he settled for a pink one which had some lace around the neck and sleeves, and a matching pair of shorts with patch pockets, sadly surrounded with lace. The shorts also had quite wide legs and no fly, so he thought he’d have to improvise when he went to the loo, pull the leg up or whatever.
He ignored the confused looks he got from the salesgirl, he’d held them up against himself, instead of trying them on. He’d also not seemed too interested in the free pair of socks that they gave with the shorts, but she’d popped them in the bag anyway. He trotted back to the hotel and his harassed mother.
“Hi kiddo, did you manage to find something?”
“There was only one outfit that would fit me.”
“Well let’s see then, did you try them on?”
“No, I thought I’d better get back.”
“Okay lovely boy, lets see them, oh they’re a bit pink.”
“I told you, it was the only one in my size.”
“Come on put them on and let’s see, they have got to be cooler than jeans.”
Turning his back he pulled off his trainers and then disrobed. He pulled up the shorts which didn’t sit very well with his boxers. So he took them off and pulled on the shorts again. They fit better than he thought, although they were kind of girlish, and he’d have to pull them down to pee.
As he pulled on the tee shirt, Sally had to fight the smirk that was trying to cover her face. He’d bought girl’s stuff, and with his hair as it was, he looked like a prepubescent girl.
“Whaddya think?” he asked turning to face her.
“Was that all they had?”
“This or the Care Bears.” He blushed. “It’s a bit girly isn’t it?”
“A bit,” echoed his mother.
“Oh sh…ugar,” he corrected himself as his mother frowned then smiled at him.
“I did say you needed a hair cut.”
“What?”
“Well, with that outfit you do look a bit like a girl,” she thought, ‘actually a lot like a girl.’
“Oh bum.”
“Well put the socks on.”
“But they have frills on them.”
Sally shook her head, ‘as if the shorts and tee shirt don’t?’ “Your feet will rub in your trainers if you don’t, and it’s hardly as if the rest looks exactly butch anyway.”
“Oh bum.” He sat on the bed and pulled on the socks which were short and had a matching frill of lace around the top, in keeping with the shorts and tee shirt. He scuffed his trainers back on, they were comfortable but looked stupid.
“Come on, let’s go and get some dinner.”
“What, I can’t go out like this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I look like a girl.”
“So, does anyone know you?”
“No, but I’m a boy.”
“As your mother, that fact had been noted some time ago. However, I didn’t buy the outfit, you did.”
“But Mum, I can’t.”
“Jack stop whining, you sound as girly as you look. At least with your long hair you look like a girl, so we shouldn’t have too much trouble with you passing as one for one night.”
“No way.”
“Jack, I’ve had a hard day and I am hungry. Now you either come out with me as you are and we get something to eat and maybe find another shop where we can get you some more suitable clothes, or you go to bed without any dinner.”
“Why can’t you bring some back for me?”
“Because I don’t want a room smelling of food all night, and besides, I don’t see what the problem is.”
“You don’t look like a girl.” He looked at his mother and her startled expression. “I mean you do look like a girl, but you’re supposed to, I’m not. I’m supposed to be a boy.”
“So what difference does that mean in going out for some food apart from using the ladies loo if the need arises.”
“I can’t do that!”
“Well you’d better go now then, because in two minutes, we are going to dinner, and I mean, we.”
The thought that he could lock himself in the bathroom for two weeks seemed attractive until his tummy started to rumble, and he felt quite hungry. He surrendered, determined never to wear this outfit again. In fact as soon as they got back, he was going to rip it to shreds, thus guaranteeing he wouldn’t wear it.
The evening was humid and part of him was quite glad he’d worn the cooler clothing. He blushed when the waiter addressed him as ‘Miss’, but he didn’t burst into flames, so he just accepted it. It was easier than saying he was a boy with a strange dress sense.
The meal was nice and Sally insisted he come to the loo when she went. He decided acquiescence was easier than refusal, and he was pleasantly surprised that ladies toilets were probably nicer than men’s.
They found a nearby shopping mall, but not many shops were still open, so Sally was only able to get a similar outfit in white, which looked a little less feminine and she bought him some white panties to wear under the shorts. Finally, when he was looking at some comics, she grabbed a thin cotton nightdress for him, so at least he’d have something to wear in bed for a night or two. Maybe the airline would have located his bag by then.
He protested at the nightdress, but gave in when she told him the alternative was to sleep nude. He was a little self conscious of his naked body in front of his mother and opted for the cover she offered. Once he got used to something loose around him he decided it was actually comfortable, though he would never admit it, especially to his mother.
The next morning, Sally was getting ready for breakfast when she looked around he was dressed in the pink outfit again, pulling on the socks. She decided to say nothing, saving her breath for the argument with the airline.
She ran through her memory of leaving the house, the taxi driver had a bag, she had her second bag, and Jack had his backpack. “Jack, do you remember bringing your bag from the house?”
“Erm,” he blushed.
“Because I don’t. I had my bag plus the one with the towels and stuff and your clothes were in your bag. You brought your sack with you, but not your bag. I only remember taking two bags through the check in.” She paused looking at him, “You left it at home didn’t you?”
“Erm,” he shrugged and the blush intensified.
“Well you have two sets of clothes, you’ll have to make do with those for the next fortnight.”
“What? Dress like a girl?”
“Why should I spend any more on you, you’ll never wear them again, it would be a waste of money. You have two sets plus half a dozen pairs of panties, that should do you unless we have some sort of accident.”
“What about swimming?”
“I’ll get you a swimming cozzie and some more sandals, but if you want anything else, you can jolly well pay for it yourself.”
“My money was in my bag.”
“What?”
“The hundred dollars Dad sent me, it’s in my bag at home.”
Sally shook her head. “Well maybe it will teach you not to be so dopey. You’re twelve years old not six. How about acting it, not your shoe size?”
He stood hanging his head in shame, “I’m sorry,” he said with some tears running down his face.
“Oh Jack, don’t cry. Here, dry your tears.” She handed him a tissue and hugged him. “Come on, lets get some breakfast.”
“They went down to the hotel’s capacious dining room and settled down at a table with cereal and fruit juice.”
They were just about to leave the table when a girl about the same size as Jack turned into him, covering him with cereal, milk and fruit juice. Her mother was coming just behind her.
“Zoe, why didn’t you look where you were going, that little girl’s clothes are ruined.” She put her tray down and rushed to help, grabbing a handful of serviettes to try and wipe off the debris.
“I’m so sorry, um ….”
“Jack,” said Jack.
“Sorry Jacqui, I hope you have some spare clothes upstairs.”
“Not really, I left my case behind.”
“You left your clothes at home? She didn’t did she?” The remark was aimed at Sally.
“We think so or the airline lost them.”
“Oh my dear, you must borrow some of Zoe’s, she has far too many anyway. What room are you?”
“472,” said Sally glancing at the key fob.
“Were just opposite, we’ll pop over after breakfast if that’s okay?”
“I suppose so,” said Sally not wishing to seem ungrateful.
They grabbed some fruit and went back up to their room. Sally made Jack put his nightie back on and washed out the soiled garments in the washbasin. Jack sat on his bed and read some more of his book.
About half an hour later, there was a knock at the door. “I’ve put several things in here, have a try if they don’t fit or Jacqui doesn’t like them, just drop them over at 475.”
“It’s very kind of you, but I’ll just buy her a couple of outfits,” protested Sally.
“No, you take them, we have another two bags of her clothes yet, she won’t use half of it.”
“Thank you very much.”
With that Zoe’s mother disappeared back to her own room leaving Sally standing with a holdall full of girl’s clothes.
“I’m not wearing that.” Jack flounced around in his nightdress as Sally pulled out a yellow sundress.
She laid it on the bed, next was a pink dress with short sleeves. Two training bras, some blue shorts, a blue top, a denim skirt and a blouse, plus a red bikini and some red jelly sandals.
Sally checked the sizes, they were about the same as Jack’s current wear. “Just try them on.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They are girl’s.”
“So were the ones you were wearing.”
“That was an accident.”
“Why, colour blind are you? Pink lacy stuff, what all macho men wear is it?”
“It was all they had.”
“So is this, all we have. It wouldn’t be if you hadn’t left your bag behind. So come on just try it on.”
“If I do, I’m not going to wear it out.”
“That’s your prerogative.”
He tried it all on and it all fitted him reasonably well. Even the bikini looked the right size. The jelly shoes could have been bought for him and he agreed they were comfortable, although he had no intention of wearing them.
Sally handed him a towel, “Come on, let’s go down and try out the pool.”
“What?” He blanched, his pale creamy skin looking even paler against the red bikini.
Stand there a minute, she went to her bag for a moment, then came back brandishing a hair brush and something red in her other hand. She proceeded to brush his hair into a central parting and tied the two halves with red scrunchies into two pigtails.
“Right let’s go, she grabbed her large frail and his hand.
“What if someone notices?”
“Notices what, some scrawny girl in a red bikini?”
“Are you enjoying being beastly to me?”
“How am I being beastly?”
“Making me dress as a girl.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“You said you’d buy me some new swimming trunks.”
“I said I’d buy you a new cozzie, we’ll do that this afternoon, if you behave yourself.”
“I feel so stupid.”
“Let’s go and have a swim, if things still feel awkward we’ll go shopping after lunch, okay?”
“All right,” he shrugged, what would it matter for two hours or so. The bikini top felt strange but otherwise it was comfortable and the ruffles on the front hid any tell tale bulge.
They met Zoe and her mother at the pool and the two kids swam and chatted, while their mothers sat and sunbathed and talked.
“How old is Jacqui?”
“Twelve but she has CF so is small for her age.”
“My Zoe is eleven next week. Did the clothes fit?”
“They did, thank you. Can I give you something for them?”
“No, certainly not, she won’t miss them. She has so many, it’ll make some room in her wardrobe.”
“I had managed to buy a couple of things yesterday, but we haven’t really been out yet, thought we might go this afternoon.”
“Be careful where you buy stuff, some of it is a real rip off.”
“Yes, I will. I’m not going to buy much, I can wash it overnight and if it wears out so what.”
“Exactly. Zoe, do you girls want an ice cream?”
“Sue gave Zoe a five dollar bill to get themselves a drink or an ice cream from the shop just behind them.”
They reappeared a few minutes later licking pink and white cones. A hour after that they had their lunches out by the pool and when Sue mentioned Sally and Jacqui were going shopping, Zoe wanted to go too.
The two mums agreed and Jack gave his mother a bit of a look, but seemed otherwise okay.
“Let’s go as twins, wear the yellow sundress Jacqui and I’ll wear a green one that’s the same style.”
“I was going to wear shorts,” said the beleaguered boy.
“Oh go on, lets pretend we’re sisters, it’ll be great fun.”
Jack was a bit overwhelmed by Zoe’s enthusiasm and gave in, it seemed easier than trying to resist.
Back in their rooms, he said to his mother, “Am I doing the right thing?”
“That’s for you to decide, I know you are going to make one little girl very happy but that shouldn’t be at your expense. If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”
“They think I’m a girl.”
“Yes, in that pink outfit you did look rather girly.”
“It won’t kill me will it, and you won’t tell Daddy about it will you?”
“Not unless you want me to.”
“I don’t.”
“I won’t then.”
He slipped off the bikini and showered. Sally did his hair for him, giving him a high ponytail, which suited him well. She also rubbed sun screen on his arms and shoulders after he donned the sundress.
The dress was yellow, with thin shoulder straps and a ruched bodice. It clung to his skinny body emphasising his thinness.
“Gosh Jacqui, you look as thin as a super model.”
“Can’t help it, I don’t put on weight.”
“Lucky you,” said Sue.
“Let me paint your nails, then we’ll be more matching,” said Zoe showing her painted fingers and toes.
Resignedly, Jack allowed her to paint all his finger nails and then his toe nails, assuming his mother had some remover. Finally, he had to agree to having some pink lip gloss.
Zoe generously produced a spare pair of sun glasses for him to use, although she only had one little handbag with her, so made Sally promise to buy him one. Sally grinned as she nodded.
“But why didn’t you bring a little bag with you.”
“All that stuff was in my big bag and we forgot it.”
“Oh, so you’ll have to buy one.”
“Why, I can do without it, I have my backpack.”
“Ugh! That’s like a boy’s one.”
“I’ll buy you a little bag Jack,” said Sally.
“Jack makes you sound like a boy,” teased Zoe.
“So.”
“But it’s obvious you’re a girl.”
“It is?”
“Well yes, boys don’t wear dresses.”
“Maybe I do.”
She looked at him questioningly for a moment then began to laugh. “Don’t be silly, I can tell the difference between boys and girls, and you are not a boy.” This judgement did wonders for Jack’s ego, like knocking it down a flight of stairs!
Sally watched intently as the two kids chatted, she noticed how Jack didn’t claim to be a girl nor did he agree when Zoe told him he was, he just let it ride. So technically, he hadn’t told any lies, just not confirmed or corrected wrongful assumptions.
“Come on girls, let’s do what girls do best — shopping!” Zoe and her mum high fived, whilst Jack shrugged his shoulders.
They took a taxi to the town centre and Zoe insisted they get Jack a small handbag. Eventually, one he picked up met with her approval and also matched his red jelly sandals. Sally paid for it, and also a small purse. She gave him twenty dollars and told him that was his pocket money. He thanked her and put the purse in his new bag. It was a drawstring type and meant he had to put the rather short strap around his wrist, to say he felt self conscious was an understatement, but no one seemed to pay him any attention.
Sally whispered that he needed to show more enthusiasm looking at girl’s clothes and things or Zoe was going to smell a rat. He was actually totally fed up, but began to role play and copied Zoe. He held up several dresses in front of himself and when Zoe went to try some on, Sally told him to do the same. They had adjoining changing cubicles, and he was rather shy about showing anyone what he looked like. Sally made him open the door and seeing he looked fine made him show the others.
Two of the dresses he modelled were really nice, a blue and white one and a red sundress. Sally asked him to choose which one he liked best. Embarrassed he chose the red one because it matched his jelly shoes, so Sally gave him the money and told him to go and pay for it. Sue took the other dress and buying one for Zoe, also bought the blue one for Jack. When she gave it to him, he was even more embarrassed.
“A girl can’t have too many dresses, Jacqui.” She said, and taking a cue from his mother, he gave Sue a hug and kissed her on the cheek, to thank her. “I suspect you might have been a bit of a tomboy until recently,” she said smiling.
“Erm, you could say that,” he blushed.
“Well now the girl bug has struck, enjoy it!” they all laughed including Jack, although he and Sally had a different interpretation on what had just been said. In their minds, the ‘girl bug’ had a name, it was called Zoe!
After dinner they relaxed in their room and Jack spoke with his mother. “I quite like Zoe and Sue, but I hope they aren’t going to be with us all our holiday.”
“They fly home at the weekend. So we’ll be able to have some mother and daughter time together.” Sally said this almost tongue in cheek, but she wanted to see his reaction.
“Okay, I’d like that.”
She nearly fell off her seat. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah, like just you an’ me.”
“I said mother and daughter.”
“Yeah, like so what?”
“So you have no objections to it?”
“Like, what’s the point? You’ve as good as told me it’s my own fault and now everyone thinks I’m a girl anyway, I like, can hardly suddenly turn up as a boy.”
“It would be difficult, but not impossible and your wardrobe would be rather limited.”
“Can I like wait until after Zoe leaves before I make my mind up?”
“Of course you can. That’s five more days, you need to get a hair trim so maybe we could arrange that at the hotel salon?”
“What! You’re not cutting all my hair off until I’m ready to like, go back to being a boy.”
“I wasn’t suggesting a buzz cut, just a tidy up to take off the straggly ends. If you like we could get some highlights too, or even a perm.”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What do you mean?”
“Get a few streaks of a contrasting colour put in, blonde would probably be best, but maybe something very different like purple.”
“Purple? Only Goths have purple hair, yuck!”
“Okay no purple, what about some curls?”
“I like it as it is.”
“So just a tidy up?”
“If I must.”
“I think it would be a good idea, don’t you. It hasn’t been done for months.”
“Okay, but nothing too girly.”
“Would I do that to you?”
Jack said nothing but the look he gave her meant she knew he wasn’t sure about it anymore.
Sally called the hair salon and they had a couple of spaces, so they both went down. Jack had to be reminded not to forget his bag, which he did more than once. Because he looked and dressed younger than his age, his mother was consulted more than he was about his hair.
He was concerned they would cut it too short and blow his disguise and he’d never had his hair washed at a salon before, usually having dry cuts when it was cut. However, having got over the novelty of lying back in a chair to have it washed he began to enjoy the experience. The girl who washed his hair had such gentle hands and he was feeling so relaxed.
“You have lovely thick hair young lady,” said the hairdresser.
“Do I?”
“Uh huh, you sure do. Right wrap this towel around it and lets see what we can do to pretty it up for you.”
“I erm don’t want it too girly.”
“You’re a sophisticate are you?”
Barely knowing what the word meant, Jack nodded and the hair dresser laughed showing a row of very white teeth enhanced in their whiteness by her dark skin.
She led him to her work station and set to work with clips and combs and scissors. His hair had never been subject to such attention and he was loving it. It was sending little shivers down his spine and when she asked him questions he’d just nod because he wasn’t listening. He was totally rapt in the sensations of someone playing with his hair.
He was half aware of some cold, smelly stuff being put on his hair but didn’t take too much notice. When curlers were rolled with his hair, again he was more into the sensation than the cause, even when they were rolled quite tightly.
Suddenly his hair was all covered in these plastic things and the girl put some cotton wool around his hairline and then put a hair net over him. It was all so strange, then she put him under a dryer and gave him the control knob. As soon as she left him he turned down the heat that was frying his brain.
He couldn’t see his mother, but assumed she hadn’t left him. One of the salon juniors brought him a cold drink and he asked her where his mother was. She informed him, she was in the room next door having her legs waxed. Jack wasn’t sure exactly what that meant but at least he knew she hadn’t abandoned him.
He drank his juice and the stylist came to check his hair, it was nearly dry and she took the control, saw how low the setting was and turned it up. “Try and leave it there this time or we’ll be here all day.” He sort of blinked his agreement.
After his head had felt like it had been microwaved, he was taken back to the washbasins and his hair was washed again, then the curlers were removed and it was washed again and then conditioned. Jack was nearly asleep from the relaxing massage of his hair. Then he was bundled up in a towel again and taken back to a work station, but not the one he’d been too at first.
His hair wrapped in the towel he was laid back and told to relax. “Your mum is having a facial and asked me to give you one. Have you had one before?”
“Erm no, I don’t think so.”
“Oh you’ll like this Jacqui, it’s very relaxing.”
He did too. She cleansed his skin and rubbed in toners and moisturisers, gently massaging all parts of his face. Then he felt some pricking at his bows and on opening his eyes saw she had tweezers in her hands. He froze, it seemed awfully close to his eyes and he didn’t want those injured.
Finally, the woman pencilled lightly across his eyebrows, put some mascara on his lashes and a hint of eyeshadow and some fresh pink lipgloss.
“You need to get your ears done girl,” said the woman and Jack not quite understanding what she meant agreed. “It’ll make you seem so grown up and your mother will be pleased.” That was it he agreed.
She pulled off the towel and examined his ears making tiny marks on the lobes, then she put some sort of little machine next to it and he felt his ear ping. It didn’t hurt and he couldn’t see what was happening, so when she did the other ear, he was still mystified.
“Keep turning them and put the lotion on I’ll give you before you go.”
“Turning them?”
“Yes, the studs, otherwise they stick and the holes will heal.”
“Ah, okay.” He still wasn’t sure but he knew the girls in school had ear studs which meant he’d just had his ears pierced. Oh poo, now they’d think he was a fairy when he went back to school.
He was led back to the original hair work station and could see for the first time what had happened. He could hardly see his ears anyway, his hair was a mass of curls and looked to be twice as much as he’d started with. He really did look like a girl and his make up, he was looking at a face he might expect to see on a sister if ever he had one. It made him feel cold all over, what had he done?
Unable to move with the shock, he let the stylist dry and style his hair, by the time she finished he looked like a fourteen year old girl, but what about school? He really would need that buzz cut or he was dead when the brawn brained footballers and rugby players saw him.
“Wow Jacqui, don’t you look nice?”
He looked up and saw Sue standing behind him, then Sally appeared beside her.
“Gosh, your hair looks different, and you had your ears pierced, shouldn’t you have asked me first?”
“I thought you wanted me to.”
“I don’t mind, I’m just a bit surprised Jack.”
“Did I do wrong,” his face screwed up ready to cry.
“No sweetheart, not at all, they look very nice.”
“We’re just going for dinner and wondered if you’d like to come too,” said Sue.
“Sounds like a good idea doesn’t it Jack?”
Jack shrugged, “I guess,” he said and stood up from the chair.
The stylist came up with a small bag, “The lotion for your ears, do it twice a day for a couple of weeks and don’t forget to keep turning them. Plus the eyebrow pencil, the mascara and lip gloss. Any problems come back and see me, okay?”
“Okay,” nodded Jack unsure what she meant but to agree seemed the quickest way to get out of the place and he wanted out.
Seeing himself in the mirrors of the salon and then in the glass in the door, he realised he looked very girlish, so he knew he was stuck with the role until they went home. He just hoped he didn’t meet anyone who knew him until he got his hair cut short and began to resemble a boy again, or as close as he usually did.
Comments
Well Angharad, I Must Say That This Story
Reminds me a lot of Drew/Gaby. I really enjoyed it.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
As you well know
I want to see another chapter of this story! A lovely story, indeed! But I believe I told you that already. Didn't I!? Oh, well, in that case, a lovely story.
Karen J.
"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose"
Janis Joplin
"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin
I hope you won't extend this
because if you do I will be hooked again and have to come back every day just to see what is happening.
Actually it is another great effort on your part. I am sure I will enjoy it whether it is two parts or even some multiple of 200 or even more. May the God/Goddess continue to shine upon you.
Oh, How Delightful…
A delightful story that is aching to be continued. Jack/Jacqui is obviously a bit Drew/Gaby-ish when it comes to packing and remembering luggage. And it seems that once over the shock Jacqui seems to enjoy "being a girl".
Please continue this story, it has real potential.
Hugs
Hilary
Angharad, what a fun, cute
Angharad, what a fun, cute story. Are you going to continue it, I certainly hope so as it will be so fun to read. Hugs, J-Lynn
Interesting concept...
... and some nice background color.
It's logical how it got to where it is... I am really curious what you have happen when Zoe & her mom go away. Then, depending on what happens there, what happens when they get home.
Jack certainly SOUNDS like a 12 yr old. And, I've seen some 11 yr olds that act like Zoe. :-) (Some older ones as well.)
Thanks for a light story.
Annette
Please ...
... continue. In digging himself in, Jack's gone from a trowel to a regular shovel and it looks like Jacqui is now renting a backhoe. I expect to see a steam shovel (Jezzi dates self :-) in chapter two!
"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show
BE a lady!
GREENSTALK TALES
Dear Angharad
Wonderful start to this story. It's been said already but the Gabyfullness is terrific but very different too.
And you have so many chapters to develop Jacqui's story too.
Where are we with Eafoab? No 274! Should take this well beyond the holiday and back to school.
Can't wait!
Only kidding, would I put you under pressure when the enjoyment is all ours.
Many thanks
love
Anna
xx
Anna