Second Sight
By
Nick B

 © Nick B 2008

Edited as usual in double time by Gabi
Thanks girly

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Gemma asked as she sat by the side of Darryl’s bed.

---

Ron Cummings looked decidedly uneasy while he told Darryl’s mother, Gemma, of her son’s return. She was remarkably calm about it all, even after having been told that he had been quite badly hurt.

“I can give you a lift to the hospital if you’d like,” he suggested carefully, obviously unsure of her reaction and who could blame him after the last episode in the hospital with Darryl’s grandmother. “They were whisking him into surgery when I left, but…”

“Thanks, Sergeant, but I’d rather make my own way there. I need to get myself together before I see him. Things were more than a little fraught the last time,” she said with a wry smile.

“Well I hope you two manage to iron things out,” he said, returning her smile as he left.

As soon as she heard the front door closing, Gemma sat down with a thud, staring into space, wondering...

Her argument with Mariella in the hospital room came flooding back–as did Darryl’s reaction. Mariella had had the audacity to think she knew what was best for Darryl even though she hadn’t so much as laid eyes on him before. However it was strange that not only did she know him, she also knew about the issues surrounding his birth. Strangest of all, he knew her too.

That argument had been an unmitigated disaster and had embarrassed her more than she’d admitted. At the time, to say she wasn’t best pleased with Mariella for having forced the issue and caused the admission of Darryl’s dual sexuality, was a gross understatement. It had always been suggested that she not tell him, at least until she was sure he could deal with the information.

Having calmed down, she was actually pleased that it was now all out in the open. It had been the cause of a lot of stress and tension over the years; causing her to wonder at various times whether or not to tell him then wondering whether he could he deal with it if she did?

It was all a big snarling mess that she had tried to keep covered up–unsuccessfully as it transpired.

In the days following Darryl’s abduction, she had had time to think things through–about their relationship and her behaviour towards him–coming to the realisation that there had always been a nagging doubt in her mind that things weren’t right for him as he was.

There was the fact that despite his growing into an apparently well-rounded and affable young man, there were things he did that she recognised as being particularly feminine; she tried to put down to the fact that there had been no father figure.

He did things exactly like she had done as a child, and although she tried to break him of those habits, these mannerisms, these ways he had–just little things in the main, just kept on popping up and the more she tried to stop them, the more often they tended to appear.

She just hoped that when she did see him at the hospital, she would be able to explain things–smooth things over and maybe even remain friends.

They were still friends, weren’t they?

---

It was one of those rare occasions where Gemma didn’t even give work a second thought–at least until she was about to leave the house.

A phone call later and she was heading towards the hospital, which she thought was somewhat ironic since this was the very hospital he had been abducted from a few days earlier. Fortunately, security had been tightened–considerably.

When she arrived, Darryl was still in surgery, to attempt to reconstruct as far as possible, what was left.

Apparently it did not go well.

There was a tremendous amount of damage and absolutely no chance, even after convalescence, that the organ would respond and work sexually–even though the nerves were intact. Needless to say, the conversation between her and the doctor was tense.

Afterwards, she went to see Darryl who was still suffering the after-effects of the anaesthetic and was still unconscious. Nevertheless, she sat with him for hours, just holding his hand as he slept. There was little improvement the next day or the day after, due to the medication he had been given, but on the fourth day he was looking surprisingly well–considering.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, somewhat fatuously, after she had sat on the chair beside his bed.

“Alright, I s’pose,” he replied and it didn’t sound to her as though he was particularly keen on talking.

“You’re looking well,” she added, trying to lighten the atmosphere that had suddenly plummeted. It didn’t work, for although he was now awake and able to talk; he didn’t seem inclined to.

Later she spoke to Paul’s wife, Doris–oddly enough, the one person she felt she could talk to.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I really have buggered things up big time haven’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Doris replied, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “You might just have to tell him how it is, without any bias or embellishment–like his grandmother appears to have done–and take it from there.”

It seemed amazing to Gemma how Doris seemed to be able to make the near-impossible seem so simple and she decided that maybe she’d give it a go.

Darryl was his usual, reticent self; apparently not up for conversation when she arrived, but she tried everything she could to get him to at least be reasonable.

“Listen Darryl. I know you’re not too happy with me at the moment and I guess you have every right, but if you won’t talk to me, how can I ever put things right?” she asked.

“It’s too late for that,” he replied, sourly. “Why didn’t you tell me about–well, you know?”

“Simply because I didn’t know how you’d take it. They told me not to say anything, but now you have to know.”

“So come on then,” he said, with a ‘this should be good’ look on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry I said what I did about not understanding what it was like to have a child like you. I fucked up–I admit it. I never meant it to sound the way it did,” she said. “But there were reasons and whilst certain other people don’t think what I did or have done since was right, they weren’t there and they shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”

“By that I suppose you mean Gran,” he asked, his tone accusatory.

“Yes, I do.”

She paused, fidgeting with her skirt, smoothing it out and staring at the pattern as she fidgeted some more; all the time wondering any worrying about what Darryl was going to think, but finally and after a deep breath, she continued.

“You were born at a time when unmarried mothers were frowned upon–especially mothers of the age I was then. They still are, but not nearly to the degree that they were back when you were born. Your grandfather–my father, was furious. He ranted and raved at me about bringing the family into disrepute and what I thought I was doing, as well as asking ‘what would the customer’s think?’ I suppose as a publican, he had a vested interest in creating a good impression, but even to this day I think he was being rather harsh.”

It was proving to be more difficult to tell Darryl than she had thought and she struggled inwardly as to how she was going to phrase things. Memories of her ex-army father, bearing down on her flooded back and made the whole thing feel like it had happened yesterday. She found herself wringing her hands and fidgeting even more with the hem of her skirt.

The idea that Darryl would forgive her for what she did, seemed less and less likely as she heard herself seemingly making excuses for the mistakes she had made, when she remembered that she had been as unforgiving of her child’s mistakes in the past as her father had been with hers. The recent bike accident popped into her mind to illustrate just that.

Still, she pressed on…

“I was sent away from home to have the baby–er–you and had to stay in a church run hostel, where they treated me like I was some sort of leper. When you were finally born–late as it happened, it was like Satan himself had just touched down.”

“Why?” Darryl asked, blinking at the sound of this. “Surely the church is supposed to be all ‘come on in and be forgiven’, not ‘fire and brimstone’.”

“That’s what I thought, but apparently not. They got fractious because believe it or not, as Mariella said, you were born with both male and female sex organs. We were looked upon as being freaks, but if it’s any consolation, there are more people that this kind of thing happens to than you would believe.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s not as rare as you’d think.”

Hopefully she had made a good start and if he felt like a freak before as she suspected he did, he would feel less so now.

“I remember when you came out of me. I was so relieved that I exclaimed ‘Great Scott!’ The doctor just held you up and said ‘I don’t know about Great Scott–more like bloomin’ great shoulders!’”

Gemma and Darryl both laughed and it seemed as if the tension was actually starting to dissipate.

“Once they had seen what was wrong with you, well, that was when I was looked upon like the bride of Satan and to them, you were his spawn, causing friction between them and I. The only thing they said could be done was for you to be “fixed”. They said it wouldn’t make things right, but it was better than nothing.

“So how did they know to make me a boy?”

“I don’t know. I was not much older than you are now at the time and the doctors seemed to know so much more than I did, so I never questioned it. Plus the fact that I was bad was being drilled into me and by the time you were born, I was just grateful for any help I was getting.

“I suppose it must have been because of your “great” shoulders that they chose to make you male. Personally I thought it was to make sure that you never made the same mistake I had as, apparently, it was impossible to tell which of your genitals were better developed and now of course, I can see that perhaps their choice was wrong.

“I was also swayed by the fact that your granddad would probably react better to the prospect of a grandson than a granddaughter and as I said, I thought the doctors knew what they were talking about.”

“And did they?” Darryl asked dubiously.

“I don’t know–probably not, thinking about it.”

“So I became a boy?”

“That’s about it. The hospital wanted shot of us as quickly as possible; something about your being “tainted”. They certainly looked down on me after you were born.

“I was completely alone and really didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think that your dad was bad–well certainly he was no angel, but he was definitely no demon. I couldn’t understand why we were being treated that way, but what choice did I have? Everything for people in my position was done through the church in those days and believe you me, had there been an alternative, I would have taken it.”

The indifference that Darryl had been treating her with up until now had pretty much gone and although she still felt uneasy about whether any forgiveness would be forthcoming, she didn’t feel that the ground she was on now was quite as shaky.

“I know it sounds awful, but until I was able to talk granddad into taking me back–admittedly, using the birth of his “grandson” as bait, you had to go into a foster home. I was devastated. I didn’t get to see you until you were nearly eighteen months old. You had grown so much and there was so much I’d missed. You had already started walking–it was awful, but at the same time such a relief to have you back,” she said, sniffing and dabbing at her eyes, trying to hold back the tears.

“I know that things haven’t been wonderful between us, but I don’t quite know how to react around you on occasion. Sometimes I’ve seen a girlish boy and have fought hard to try and break you of those habits and then other times I see a boyish girl and it’s just not the easiest thing to accept.”

“You should see it from this side,” Darryl quipped with a grin.

“I know things haven’t been perfect between us, but I was just so scared that Mariella would come along and take you away from me again. I hope you can forgive me.”

She started to cry and it wasn’t to garner sympathy either. So much tension and relief was released that she cried more than she had cried since the day they had taken him away from her.

“Hey, mum, of course I forgive you. I‘d no idea things were so hard. It’s alright now,” he assured her. “I’m still here aren’t I? That won’t change.”

She looked up at him, her eyes red and her face stained with tears and makeup.

“I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t really in any position to make the choice Mariella seemed to think was so simple and straightforward. I was angry with her that she seemed to think she could pass judgement without knowing anything about the whys and wherefores… I wish I’d have told you though.”

She started to cry again and Darryl stretched out his arms, beckoning her to come to him. She stood and slid between his arms, the two of them equally tearful, hugging one another, as Gemma sank down on the bed beside him.

“So you’re not angry with me?” she asked.

“Not now. In fact, it’s me who feels that I misjudged the situation.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I really thought I’d lost you again.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he replied with a wry grin.

They sat together for some time, Gemma turning over in her mind the events of the last few weeks and the reliving of that very testing time when Darryl was born. They had come a long way since then and she realised that maybe she had been taking out the frustration of trying to hold all that information inside on him.

Right now, she just hoped that there was a chance of a fresh start; a chance for them to get to know one another again now that those secrets had been shared.

It was the most tearful they had been and for Gemma, it felt good. Not because she had made him cry, but because she felt closer to him now than she had ever done before.

“Don’t forget, mum, the psychiatrist needs to see us tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here,” she said, smiling and with a little wave of her fingers, she closed the door quietly behind her.

---

The next day, both Darryl and Gemma were nervous about what was going to happen.

“It’ll be alright,” she assured her child, giving his hand a squeeze, even though Darryl could sense she had no idea how it was going to pan out.

“I know, but I can’t help being a bit scared,” he replied. She just smiled and gave his hand another squeeze.

The psychiatrist didn’t appear to be any older than Darryl’s mother–mid to late thirties was all. He was of medium height and build and appeared severely preoccupied.

“Good morning Darren. My name’s Doctor Taylor.”

“Mine’s Darryl,” replied Darryl taking an instant dislike to the man.

“So, Darren, how are you feeling?”

“It’s Darryl–with a “Y”.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Darryl–right.” He scribbled something on his clipboard and looked up, smiling with an insincere, fake smile. “So how are you?”

“How do you think?” Darryl responded.

“I’m not here to think, Darren.”

“Darryl.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s Darryl, not Darren.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“You say that, but I can tell you’re not really paying attention. If you have something more pressing to be getting on with, I suggest you go and do that, then come back when you can give me your full attention.”

The psychiatrist’s eyebrows shot up at about mach two while Gemma tried, almost successfully, to stifle a laugh, disguising the resultant snort with a cough.

Darryl had been waiting a long time to use that line, just as one of his teachers had on him a couple of years before when he was preoccupied with drawing stars on his exercise book. He was extremely satisfied to see the stupid quack look like all his feathers had been ruffled.

Dr. Taylor looked to Gemma, presumably expecting help, but all he got was a shrug.

“I’m sorry, Darryl. Perhaps we should start this again,” the doctor said, obviously trying to compose himself.

“Maybe,” Darryl replied.

“I understand you’ve had a bit of an accident,” the doctor stated, immediately looking away from Darryl and at his clipboard.

“I wouldn’t call it an accident. I was stabbed several times and nearly had my genitals severed.” Darryl said to clarify.

Dr. Taylor blanched and scratched some more scrawl on his clipboard.

“I presume you have been told of the prognosis?” the doctor asked.

“I have.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I’ve been told the prognosis.” Darryl remarked, wondering just what the psychiatrist was expecting.

“What about your options?”

“I wasn’t aware that I had any. I know that it’s unlikely that my penis will ever be able to sustain an erection. My left testicle was severed and my right severely damaged. What that entails hasn’t been made apparent.”

Once again, the psychiatrist blanched and had to excuse himself.

“Was it something I said?” Darryl asked of no-one in particular and Gemma shook her head, suppressing her mirth.

A few minutes passed and Dr. Taylor returned, this time with another doctor in tow.

“Doctor Edwards,” Gemma said, standing up.

“Hello Mrs. Groves, Darryl. How are you both?”

With the pleasantries over with and having explained why he hadn’t been round sooner, the doctor went ahead and explained Darryl’s options.

“The damage to your genitalia was rather more extensive than we could successfully repair and it’s unlikely that you will be able to produce enough testosterone for your body’s needs as a male without constant supplements, neither will you be able to sustain an erection. As far as fathering a child, I don’t think it will be possible, as I fear that the remaining testis has sustained too much damage, but we won’t know that for a while. Even so, I feel confident in suggesting that we will end up removing it in due course. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring better news to the table, but in all honesty, I think I would be giving you false hopes were I to tell you otherwise.”

“So what does that make his options?” Gemma asked. “Does he have any?”

“The options aren’t great. He can remain as he is and supplement his hormone requirements with medication, but that would need to be a permanent thing,” the doctor replied.

Gemma squeezed Darryl’s hand and gave him a smile that helped to reassure him somewhat.

“The other option, of course, is to have a sex change. After reviewing your results, it appears that your body is already producing oestrogen in the same quantities as a girl of your age and frankly, I know it may be a little repugnant for you, but I think the latter option would be better suited for you,” the doctor added

“How do you feel about that, Darryl?” Doctor Taylor asked.

“I don’t know. It’s all so sudden. Is there no way I can kind of get used to the idea?” he asked.

“I don’t know about being able to put the operation off. Personally, I feel it would be better to perform surgery sooner rather than later,” the doctor stated.

“Doesn’t sound very much like an option, does it?” Darryl asked.

“I know, but believe me, it’s for the best.”

“Can I have a day or two to think about it?” Darryl asked, looking to his mum.

“A couple of days would, I think, be acceptable,” Doctor Edwards agreed. “I’d also suggest that if you want to go ahead with the other surgery, you get it done at the Nuffield Clinic in Hove. They have had some very good results and I think you would be most impressed with the outcome. In addition, they are more suitably geared up for the recuperation period afterwards as well as aftercare.”

Later that day, Ron arrived.

“Your mum has told me about your options,” he said. “How d’you feel?”

“A bit overwhelmed.” Darryl replied. “But I’m kind of coming to terms with the fact that it’s probably for the best.”

“Well, Sussex police would like to pick up the tab for the treatment at the clinic if you decide to go; a kind of thank you for your help.”

“Thanks, Ron,” Darryl replied, smiling. “You’ve been a really good friend.”

Two days later, Darryl was moved to a small private clinic on New Church Road in Hove.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Gemma asked as she sat by the side of Darryl’s bed.

“I think they’re probably right that it’s for the best. I just don’t feel I have a choice in all this. It’s a bit like when I was born, isn’t it? We didn’t have any choice then either did we?”

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To be continued…