A retelling, with permission and differences, of C.D. Rudd's classic webcomic SailorSun.org.

Billy Jones, a film student and extra, seems to have been exposed —if that's the word— to some sort of special effect.

I had no idea what to talk about. Bringing up the subject most on my mind — my having been turned into a girl! — seemed, well, crazy. Getting a picture taken with an antique camera didn’t usually change anyone’s sex. Was I crazy for thinking it had?

I put a hand over my mouth when I realized the slightly hysterical-sounding giggling I heard was coming from me.

Mr. Harrelson, the assistant director, giving me a ride in his Lexus, glanced over, smiling. “Something funny, Billy?” he asked.

I shook my head, afraid to speak.

He laughed. “I’ll guess getting your first paycheck in the industry is pretty exciting?”

I nodded. Well, that was true. Thinking of that, I dug in my back pocket for the envelope with the check in it. The pants I was wearing were so tight, and with the seat belt, it was a struggle. I finally had to undo the belt to manage.

Harrelson chuckled again. “Gotta look at the check to be sure it’s real?”

“Yeah,” I said. But really, I wanted to check on the name. I refastened the belt (no use earning Mr. H. a ticket) before opening the envelope. I’d looked at the amount on the check when I first got it, and that had been correct. Since I wasn’t on payroll, just a dayworker and not yet a union member, there’d been no deductions, and I had the full $108 for sixteen hours.

And the name on the check was William H. Jones. My head spun.

Mr. Harrelson was talking. “How serious are you about making a career of this, Billy? Acting or the movie business in some way?” He glanced at me again, and this time our eyes met, and we both smiled. I don’t know why.

“P-pretty serious,” I stammered. I tried to think about the question, but the pudding I keep between my ears was not up to the job with what was happening to me just then. I’d been turned into a girl, and no one had noticed, but all my paperwork had a boy’s name on it. It didn’t come even close to making sense.

He nodded, glancing sideways at me for about the twentieth time. I noticed that his gaze always flicked to my chest for a moment when he looked my way—checking me out. I wanted to scrub my face with both hands to cover my embarrassment, but I didn’t.

“I think you’ve got something, Billy,” he said.

“Like the flu?” I blurted. Could there be a disease that caused someone to change sex? Anything must be possible, considering the lack of other reasonable explanations. The idea that I had some disease hadn’t occurred to me until then, but I just made him laugh again.

“No, no,” he choked out between chuckles and outright guffaws. “I mean…. Do you know why we decided to keep some of you film students for another day of shooting?”

I shook my head. I hadn’t thought to wonder about that.

“We saw the rushes from yesterday, and then again from this morning,” he said. “And there you were in the crowd scenes, shining like a diamond in a box of Rice Krispies.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got it, Billy. Whatever it is that the camera is looking for, it finds it in you.” He kept going while I tried to wrap my head around what he was saying. “Call it being photogenic or charismatic or… or beautiful….” He almost stammered on that but trailed off when he saw my reaction.

My eyes and mouth flew open, and I turned, as much as I could with the seatbelt fastened, to stare at him. We were both blushing, I’m sure. I could see him turn red, and my face felt like it was burning up. I pushed my hair out of my eyes again and blinked at him.

“I’m not, uh, I’m not trying to hit on you, Billy, honestly,” he said.

“It—you—he—I?” I confused myself even more. He? He who?

Harrelson laughed and nodded. “Yeah, just like that! I wish I’d had a camera right then!” He looked back at where we were going, thankfully.

I squeezed my eyes shut before opening them again, but the world wouldn’t go away. I tossed hair out of my face and pushed air out between my lips in an exasperated sigh.

He shook his head. “Whatever it is, you’ve got it, Billy. A great big helping of it, too.” He glanced at my chest again, but at least he hadn’t said two big helpings!

I wanted to glare at him, but I didn’t. I’ve dreamed of being in movies since I was a little boy and saw The Great Mouse Detective the first time. Really, I wanted to be a cartoon mouse…. I smiled at that thought, then glanced down at myself. Breasts. I had breasts, not mouse ears. And tons of hair that had fallen in my face again.

But it looked like I might be going to get into movies, just not the way or for the reasons I had dreamed of. Unless there was some way of changing back? I wanted to get a look at that special effects camera.

We were both quiet for a bit, the A.D. negotiating some heavy traffic and me dealing with my weighty thoughts.

“Mr. Harrelson, did you go to UCLA, too?” I asked after we had reached Wilshire Boulevard and headed west. I’d done some thinking and had more questions I wanted to ask him.

The A.D. nodded. “I did. But call me Hank, when we’re not on set.”

Hank? I shook my head. “Nope, nope, nope. I’m not going to call you ‘Hank.’ I’d forget and do it in front of someone else, and people would get the wrong idea.”

He laughed. “You might be right.” He blushed, and I had to suppress a giggle.

I pushed hair out of my face for, like, the fifteenth time since I’d gotten in the car. I wondered vaguely if I could get it cut shorter, or maybe styled so it didn’t cover my eyes so easily. Personally, I liked girls to have long hair. I just never expected to have to put up with it myself.

I got back to the questions I wanted to ask the A.D. “So, that funny camera? It came from the UCLA film museum?”

“That’s right,” he agreed. “The curator is an old friend of mine. Nate Carrell, he let me borrow it, but I have to take it back next week. It shoots on this really wi-ide film and at a higher rate of speed if you need it to, so it’s good for doing in-camera special effects.”

“Uh, huh,” I said. “I’d like to get a closer look at it. Do you think I could?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We’ll be using it again tomorrow. Remind me then.”

“Okay,” I agreed. But that seemed to mean I was going to be stuck as a girl all night. That could be a new worry.

“Do you have an apartment or a dorm?” Harrelson asked.

I realized we were already on Westwood Avenue. “Uh,” I said. “Can you just drop me in the Village near the WaMu Bank? It’s not a long walk for me from there, and I want to get this check deposited.”

“Sure,” he agreed and pulled into the postage-stamp-size parking lot next to the bank.

I thanked him for the ride and got out a little awkwardly, convinced that everyone was watching me. But I really did want to get the check deposited before going to my apartment. And it would give me time to figure out how I was going to deal with Jack, my horndog roomie.

Would he recognize me? Would he think girl-me had been living with him for the last several months? Would he…? Yikes!