Stuck in a Rut.
By Rosalie Redd
Casey Church is a normal 13 year old boy, full of hopes and dreams and fears and anxieties. But in a world where there hasn’t been a girl born in over a century, what is normal?
Chapter 9.
I crawled out of bed, after getting no sleep. The clock said 5:57, close enough. Staggering to the bathroom, I Turned on the light and saw my reflection in the mirror. Something was different. Something small, I couldn’t place my finger on it at first, but then I realized. My lashes. I leaned in over the sink to look in the mirror. They were fuller and thicker, longer. That wasn’t all though. My eyes were slightly darker. I had had light colored eyes, not hazel exactly, but more of a light brown, they were more of a chocolate brown now. Weird.
I stretched and took off the tee shirt I was wearing and got my second surprise. As my shirt pulled up, it brushed over my nipples in such a way that I almost melted and fell to the floor. They felt tender and sensitive and wrong, but mmm... it also kind of felt right. Oh gawd, they had gotten pinker and were protruding a little, like little cones. On seeing this, I did what anyone in my position would do, I screamed and fainted.
I came around to the sensation of mom slapping my cheeks. Not hard, just over and over. When I opened my eyes, there she was, bent over me with a concerned look on her face. I sheepishly took her hand when she extended it, and let her help me get up. She put the lid down on the toilet and motioned for me to sit down. She crossed her arms over the baggy over-sized jersey she wore and knelt beside me.
“Are you okay?”, she asked as she sat on the edge of the bathtub.
I looked up at her and she studied my face intently, before her eyes glanced downward. “I see”, came her quiet reply. “Your breast buds are developing. That was one of my first changes too.”
I stammered, “Wh...wh..what d...”
She patted my head softly. “What does it mean?”, she asked. I bit my lip and nodded solemnly.
“When your breasts start developing, they form buds, like you have”, she sighed. “This is a sign that you are starting your transition. You have an appointment after school Thursday, with Dr. Foster.
I shuddered visibly. I knew that since I was showing signs, it was a reality. I really was changing. They would put me on estrogen supplements to speed along the development.
Mom got up and helped me to my feet. I let out an audible groan.
“I remember that feeling. You ache all over, am I right?”, she asked sympathetically.
I nodded silently.
“Your whole body will ache for a while. Slowly, your cells are changing, as the changes to your DNA are carried out by your body. Bones, tendons, ligaments, muscles, and even your organs are all slowly reshaping”, she said while looking me in the face. “I’ll leave you alone now to take your shower. I’ll have breakfast ready when you are finished.”
Mom turned, walking out. I looked at her as she left, the old school jersey, black with white and red trim, and the name on the back that read “Casey” above the large number 10.
After she had gone, I climbed in the shower. The water hurt when it hit my chest, and I was very careful to not touch it. I sighed and did a brief self-exam. The boys still were the same walnut-size they had been before. I looked at my dick, it might have been my imagination that made it seem slightly smaller. I don’t know. I would have to check later. Looking at it though, my mind raced to the two people that had wrapped their lips around it. It responded positively, and for the moment the other issues faded a little.
After I got out of the shower, and got dressed, I limped down the stairs. I inched over to the table and mom put a plate of waffles and bacon down in front of me.
“You need extra calories right now, as your body uses extra energy for the change. But don’t expect waffles every morning!”, she teased.
I heard dad’s response as he came in, in the form of a disappointed “awww.”
mom, put down her coffee cup and leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek, the jersey slid down, exposing one of her bra-straps through the loose neck. I pretended not to notice. Growing up, one of the things that amused me the most was that I had the “hottest mom around”, as my friends always had told me. Watching them get tongue-tied and clumsy around her had been fun, but now I realized that mom was something else. Mom was the enemy now. Not literally, of course. But now that I was going to be a girl, I would be compared to her. I wasn’t tall, and almost certainly I would be getting shorter. She was blonde, I was not. She had blue eyes, I had brown. She was athletic, I was unexceptional. She had big D-cup... well, the jury is still out on that one.
Dad offered me a ride to school, mom had probably told him about how much I was hurting. I grabbed my books and headed out to the garage. I waited for dad next to the Lexus. When Dad had made partner at the law firm, he and mom had had a debate about his new car. He wanted to get a luxury sedan. But mom, ever the voice of reason, reminded him that a sedan would be useless in the Minnesota winter. He reluctantly settled on a cobalt blue GX. I climbed into the SUV and gingerly buckled the belt, carefully stretching the shoulder belt across my chest.
We got to the school quickly, and I waved as he drove off.
Even with my softest cotton tee under the thick baggy hoodie, I still felt discomfort. Not only from the changes, but also the early September humidity. At least the school had air conditioning.
I fumbled through the morning, finally reaching lunch. I sat by myself at the usual table when Janie arrived. She came up behind me and wrapped me in a rather painful hug. She managed to hit my breasts HARD.
In that situation, I did the worst possible thing. Irritated and sore, I pulled her arms off me and in a loud voice, I yelled at her. “GOD DAMMIT! STOP BEING SO FUCKING CLINGY!”
Trays all over the cafeteria hit the floor in the following silence. I looked up and caught DeShaun’s glare, purely by chance. He shook his head, and looked away. Getting up and quickly busing his tray and leaving. I sighed, and in the silence, the dull thud of my head hitting the table could clearly be heard.
Janie wasn’t in biology class, nor was she at study hall. I blew it. I called her phone during study hall, but it went straight to voice mail. I sighed and left a simple “I’m sorry.”
I dreaded home ec, and sure enough, Brad and his clique kept staring at me. I purposefully sat at the opposite side of the room, closer to DeShaun. He looked at me with a disgusted face, and moved to another corner. There I sat, assaulted by glares from two directions. The teacher, Mrs. Beverly, turned her back on us to write on the whiteboard some fact about balancing a checkbook, but it didn’t register to me. Every time I glanced at DeShaun, he turned his head away.
Brad’s group sat looking at me like coyotes, waiting to pounce and slaughter the wounded pheasant.
I made it out of there, just barely. I was shaking and borderline on the verge of a panic attack. I think the lesson in art class was on post-impressionism, but I can’t be sure. It’s all a haze to me. I stood outside, and when mom rolled up in her cayenne, heads turned on a swivel, as she got out. She was still wearing the jersey. A pair of yoga shorts with ankle socks and canvas low-top sneakers gave all the drooling audience a look at her long, long legs.
I hopped in and she took me home. With any luck ‘hot mom’ gained me back some of the lost coolness from the lunch debacle.
I went upstairs and dialed my phone. When I got Janie’s voice mail, I left a longer message. “Janie, I’m so sorry. I’m so very, very sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t think you are clingy. I said that out of pain and frustration. When I woke up, I discovered the changes were starting, and visible ones. Mom said my boobs are budding, and when you squeezed me like that. It hurt. And my joints hurt, and my muscles.”
I took a deep breath before continuing. “My everything hurts, but most of all my heart. I saw myself becoming less of a man. Less of what you deserve. You are my best friend. And I don’t know if we will still be more after I get through all this, but I do know that fact will never change. I am so sorry. If it helps, even DeShaun gave me the evil eye, and I think he sees you as the competition. Right now I need you. I need your help, because without you, I’ll surely go mad. I’m lost, and I need your guidance. Your expertise. Your experience. I am so sorry. I have been, and always shall be your friend.”
I hung up and laid back on the bed, ruminating on everything. I would need to talk to DeShaun. I don’t even remember his phone number.
About ten minutes passed, and the phone rang. I picked up, having seen the number. “I forgive you, and I understand”, she said. “Also, you quoted Wrath of Khan? Really? You are such an idiot.” We laughed for a while before hanging up.
After some Ibuprofen, I went down to dinner. Dad was going to be late, he was prepping for a big case at work. I ate up, feeling better, my appetite was back with a vengeance. Having polished off a second helping, I looked up at the TV. The news was on, and they were out front of the school. Mom grabbed the remote and turned it up.
The reporter stood in front of the school, where there were police cars and a crime scene van in the background. “This is Esme Murphy reporting from form Eden Prarie High School, where breaking news is unfolding. Details are still coming in, but approximately 45 minutes ago the bodies of two male students were discovered underneath the football bleachers. The students have not been identified, pending notification of next of kin, but the Hennepin County Sheriff's Department is saying that foul play is likely suspected.”
The reporter stopped and turned to look at the school before continuing.
“I spoke just moments ago with the principal and the school superintendent. Classes will be canceled tomorrow, and they will be bringing in grief counselors when school resumes on Thursday. Back to you Frank and Amelia in the studio.”
After that I tuned out. Dead? Who? Why? Panic hit me like a wave. The football field? That meant they were likely on the team. I didn’t know their practice schedule, but I did know that they had a game scheduled on Friday. I got a sinking feeling and fought to keep dinner down. What if there had been another fight? What if I had caused it? What if… what if one of them was DeShaun? I got up, but I suddenly felt woozy. The last thing I remembered was hitting the floor.
I THRIVE on your comments and questions. Please feel free to post them!
Comments
lets not be HIM.
lets not be HIM.
I hoped there would have been enroled a long love story of three individuals........
what a twist!
who's dead? why ?
Twist
That was unexpected. I hope it has nothing to do with DeShaun. But I suspect the rapist.
I also expect the questioning of all involved. Good thing Dad is a lawyer.
Fun Fact.
The reporter and anchor people mentioned are people that work at the local CBS affiliate.
It doesn't seem to be
much support for individual going through the change, and in this universe there would be. Suicide is a very real risk. For those who ,really did not want to be Female, for such a dramatic change in human genetics It would seem other changes would be in order, such as an endorphin high.
Well, there is... but.
Casey is also kind of in denial. I mean there is a counselor at the school but Casey hasn't availed himself there. Nurse Betty gave Mom some information and resources. It just seems to me that Casey is going to try to deal with it on her own. Janie did say that she is seeing a therapist. Also, Casey has found resources that have gone through it in his mother and Janie.
Dangling in the wind
For the first twelve years of their lives, they have been boys who've heard about their possibly changing, if they are the recipient.
Then when it happens they are basically left dangling in the wind, not made to visit a counselor every day to help them with the transition. They aren't told what the will experience during the change, the aches and pain they will go through, or the mental fatigue they will experience.
Casey's mom is there for him, but only to a point, only when he freaks out or passes out. She should have him seeing someone each day after school to help coach him through this time in his life.
What two boys were found under the school bleachers? How were they killed? Was DeShaun involved, might one have been DeShaun?
Is their deaths involved with the rut? Might they have tried to rape a boy to keep their manhood and received their do?
The rut seems to be the base of a lot of problems which are left to fix themselves. Wouldn't finding a cure stop a lot of problems faced by many boys and others?
Others have feelings too.
Ultimately education is the responsibility of the parents.
Just like in our world. The birds and the um... other birds talk. Puberty is puberty. I didn't have a responsible mother, not one that cared for me. So I was blind-sided by my period. Some parents do a better job in educating their kids.
uh
oh
I'm so ashamed
What just came to my mind was Christian Slater's line from Heathers:
Also, it just hit me that, entering juvie as a rapo with two broken hands, Paul is in for a hard time.
Several hard times.