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Author's note: This story has some very heavy Christian theology in it. If this will bother you, please don't read it. Skip to the next new story.

Rosemary

As usual, I wish to thank Malady for all his help with ideas and editing!

Frederick was 25 years old. He was married, and he and his wife, Wilhelmina, had a pair of twins named Bernard and Elizabeth. The reader should note that their last name was neither Flintstone nor Rubble, however. Frederick and Wilhelmina simply found it amusing that the shortened forms of their names were identical to those of a certain modern, stone age family. Thus, naming their kids after Fred and Wilma's best friends was a stroke of humor-related genius.

The reality was even funnier. Fred's last name was Kramden, the same as the Honeymooners who the Flintstones were modeled after.

Wilma’s father's name had been Jonas Grumby, and Fred knew of someone on television that had the name, but he couldn't remember who it was. Unfortunately, Wilma had lost her mother early in her life, and her father had passed away while she was a teenager, so without research, there was little way to figure it out.

Fred's family was also gone, so there was no one to whom they could show the kids. It was just the four of them in the world.
Wilma was carrying another set of twins as well. They had toyed with the idea of naming them Pebbles and Bam-Bam, but they thought those names might be going a bit too far. Ralph and Alice or Ed and Trixie might be good names, though.

They weren’t sure that this pair of twins would be a boy and a girl, but in Fred’s family, there were many twins, and all had been dizygotic except one – the other seven were male and female.

Fred was a male nurse at the local hospital. It wasn't a big hospital. In fact, the town that they lived in was quite backwater, but the head doctor was very knowledgeable.

With this background out of the way, we should explore some strangeness that occurred at a time five months before the next set of twins were born to the Kramdens.

Oh… perhaps I should explain… no. That will soon become apparent.

On with the story…

As I said, this was an unusual occurrence, and it happened in Fred's life. Well, that's not entirely true. It did, as far as it goes, but it affected many more than just him.

On the particular day, Fred was working in the hospital when he felt something. A pain that had been recurring for quite some time. But this time was different. It didn't fade. Doctor Clausson initially thought it might be appendicitis, but that was quickly ruled out, as was kidney stones.

Instead, they found something that was very concerning indeed.

His right vas deferens was being squeezed by a tumor that had developed in it.. Now the vas deferens essentially connects the testicle to the rest of the body, and this was being restricted. Not only was the blood flow being cut off to the testicle, but anything the gem created was also being cut off.

So Fred ended up lying on his back in the small hospital, a patient rather than a nurse.

Doctor Clausson stared at the results from the biopsy. The tumor was malignant and the cancer was spreading. It was starting to affect every bit of Fred's reproductive system. But why? Why did it seem to be affecting only that part of the best nurse in the hospital?

For his part, Fred had never felt that the term vampire fit phlebotomists, but they had taken so much blood his opinions were changing.

Thankfully, Doctor Clausson realized that Fred understood the conditions he was facing, so wasn't neglecting to inform the nurse of the facts.

The tests went on and on, until something struck the doctor as strange. He began to wonder if it could possibly be the cause.

"Hi, Doc," Fred said as the best doctor in the hospital walked into his room.

"Fred," the doctor said as a way of greeting. He seemed reticent in saying anything, but he also seemed determined.

What frightened Fred most of all was that he was always Nurse Fred, or in times of formality, Nurse Kramden, but never simply Fred. Fred's fright was punctuated by surprise at the doctor's question.

"Are you a twin?"

"Huh?" Fred asked. "No," he added after a moment.

"Do you know of any twins in your family?"

"Yeah," Fres said, totally confused. "But what does this have to do…" he trailed off as the doctor held up his hands.

"Bear with me for a minute, okay?"

"Does Wilma have any twins in her family?"

"Not that I know of." Now Fred was really confused.

Clausson nodded. "I suspect she does," he said as he pulled up a chair and aar down, "but that's not really relevant to your case."

Fred let out an audible sigh. Doctor Clausson could get off on tangents at times. Thankfully, surgery kept his mind from wandering, but when it came to research and collecting information, he could wander off topic easily. However, he had found valuable information through his wandering mind more than once.

Sure enough, "It was your own twins that put me onto this idea, and I'm almost certain I'm right. You see…"

Fred was certain the doctor was going to go off on a ramble that might eventually circle back around to his own predicament, or might not. So, he snapped the doctor out of his ramble. "Your point, Doc?"

"Right… well, the twins are very important, and I'm not surprised that your family has a predilection for them."

Fred decided to let the doctor tell the story his own way. Obviously, he wasn't going to be deflected from his tangent, and it may not be one. Best to just listen.

"I am curious, though. Are the twins in your family identical or fraternal?"

"Mostly fraternal."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, the fraternal ones are male and female, Doc."

"So?"

"Huh?"

The doctor got a cryptic smile on his face and told Fred, "Identical is based on the genome. Not looks. You know very well that a person can be born with the sexual characteristics of male while having XX chromosomes. Or, conversely, they can be born with the sexual characteristics of a female while having XY chromosomes."

"Where is this going, Doc?"

The doctor smiled and patted Fred's hand. "Identical twins are monozygotic. Fraternal twins are dizygotic. In monozygotic twins, the zygote will split into two, after fertilization."

"I know that, Doc," Fred said.

"But sometimes," the doctor persisted, "the two fuse into one again. Like a chimera, but instead of fraternal twins joining, they're identical."

"Are you saying…"

"You are apparently a chimera of two identical twins. One that developed male characteristics, and one that developed female."

Fred lay on the bed, thinking about what the doctor told him. He had been left alone for a while, while he thought about it, but Clausson said there could be a therapist (read shrink, Fred thought) anytime he needed it. He might accept the help later, but for the moment, he was willing to think about it himself.

What he had never told anyone was that he had always wanted to be female. Not enough to transition, but he always wanted to have the experience. Now, it looked like he might be able to.

Apparently, an imbalance of hormones was assisting the cancer in ravaging his male parts. So why was it taking things out on that part of him rather than the female? No idea, but it was. The damage was progressing, and frankly, did he want chemo to shut down the cancer in his… penis? That just sounded dangerous.

Slowly, he reached for his phone. He needed to talk to Wilma about this. There was more than just his feelings at play in the situation.

When Wilma arrived, Fred told her what Doctor Clausson said.

“What is the best thing for you to do, then?” she asked after she had hear the diagnosis.

“Honestly, I have a better chance of the cancer being gone if I have everything between my legs removed.”

“Are you going to?”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” he responded.

“I love you very much, Fred, but I can’t make this decision for you.”

He shook his head. “You’re not bisexual, Wilma. I know that.”

“No, I’m not,” she told him. “But I married you. For better; for worse.

When we married, we didn’t know what we do now. I can’t and won’t go back on what I decided then.”

He thought about what she was saying. “So… Would you have… made a different decision if we’d known?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know Fred, but what does it matter?”

“I don’t know, Honey, but I guess it does."

The decision made, Doctor Clausson prepared for surgery. The nearest town with a decent surgeon was Denver.

Clausson made some calls, and came up with a surgeon that was on vacation in Aspen. His hospital contacted him, and once the matter was explained, he agreed to fly to the mountainous city in which the Kramdens lived.

There would be no problems with fees being paid. Fred’s insurance had no problem covering the surgery. As soon as the surgeon arrived, he went over the scans taken of Fred’s body.

“I see,” he said to Clausson as they collaborated. This is definitely an interesting case.

“Yes. I suspect Fred is a monozygotic twin.”

“And one of the twins started to develop female?”

Doctor Clausson nodded. “He’s a chimera.”

“At this point, I would say she. But I take your meaning. This chimerism has resulted in a hermaphroditic situation.”

“Some would consider her intersexed.”

The surgeon nodded. “But, obviously the male genetalia functions.”

Again Clausson nodded, so he went on. “Is there any indication that the female organs work?”

“By my tests, she could probably become pregnant.”

“So the best course would be to remove the testes and penis, and form a vagina.” He scrutinized the penile shaft on the scans. “I don’t see evidence of a tumor here.”

“No, but I fear the cancerous material is spreading in that direction.”
“What evidence do you have?”

“We took samples. The tests were inconclusive.”

“Better to assume that it is spreading then. We can take some tissue from elsewhere.”

“Perhaps we’ll find it hasn’t spread to the full penis?”

“There is that possibility.”

Deciding on a course of action, the two prepared for the surgery in the next week.

“Hello. Mr. Kramden, is it?”

Fred glanced at the doorway. In it stood a man in a dark suit and tie.

“For now, I suppose,” Fred thought about that. Was he? “Well, actually, I’m not sure what I am.”

“I see. I’m the new chaplain’s assistant.”

“Where’s Grow?”

Grover Cleveland was the primary chaplain at the hospital.

“Well, I’ve had some experience with a case similar to yours. Grow thought I might be a bit more understanding than him.”

“I’m not a particularly religious person,” Fred told the man.

“Neither am I,” the chaplain laughed. He held out his hand. “I’m Rock Slate.”

Fred stared at him. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“I swear, it’s not! My parents thought it would be funny to name me that. One of the reasons I became a minister. People can call me ‘Pastor Slate’ instead of Mr. Slate.” he paused for effect. “That last was a joke, but I realized the change in address was preferable very quickly.”

“Do you know my name?”

“Fred Kramden,” Slate replied.

“The Flintstones was a ripoff of the Honeymooners. In fact, Jackie Gleason considered suing Hanna Barbera because of it. Also, my wife's name is Wilma.” He paused. “Well, Wilhelmina, but you get the idea.”

Slate had a booming laugh. “I suppose I shouldn't laugh, but this situation is funny.”

Fred chuckled a bit, but then his look became serious. “So you say you aren’t religious. But you’re a chaplain.”

Slate turned, looking around the room. He saw a chair and, gesturing toward it, asked, “May I?”

Fred considered, then said, “Why not.”

Slate pulled it over to the side of the bed, then sat down. “I’ve been a Christian my whole life.”

“Again, you said you’re not religious.”

“I’m not. See, I don’t believe Christianity is a religion. It’s a lifestyle. It’s a relationship with Jesus Christ.”

“I’ve heard that before, but I’m not sure I follow it.”

“Generally, religion is thought of as a bunch of rules and regulations that one has to follow to get to heaven. Honestly, I don’t see that in the Bible.”

“If I remember right, there are ten commandments.”

“Yes, but those are in our judicial code. Even without Chrstianity, people are expected to follow those.”

“Don’t the commandments say to worship god?”

“Okay. They’re not all in the judicial code,” Slate laughed.

The corner of Fred’s mouth turned up in a semi-grin. He wasn’t against someone who was a Christian. He just didn’t know much about their beliefs, but this guy seemed likeable enough.

“So why am I supposed to worship god?”

“Why not?”

At this, Fred laughed. “I asked you first.”

“Fair enough,” Slate replied. “God created us.”

“So there’s no other god to worship,” Fred concluded.

“That’s not really correct,” Slate told him. “A god is anything you put over Him. Something that is all consuming to you.” He thought for a moment. “For some people, it may be a TV show. For others, it might be gaming. Others might have a hobby that takes up all of their time.”

“I suppose that makes sense. But then again, I’m not a Christian, so what does it matter?”

“What worship means is to proclaim the worth of something. Worth-ship is its actual meaning. So worshipping God simply means proclaiming his worth.”

“So what’s his worth?”

“As I said, He’s our creator. I’d say that’s worth a lot.”

“I suppose it is.”

“Are you an atheist?” Slate asked Fred.

“No. I suppose not, but I’ve never really gotten into religion. A relationship with god, I mean.”

Slate smiled. “Okay.”

“I know the story of Adam and Eve,” Fred told him. “I know about the flood. I know about Christmas. That’s about it.” He thought a bit. “Oh. I know about Jesus dying on the Cross, and the resurrection.”

“Okay. You want to know more?”

Fred looked at the clock on the wall. “Why not?”

Slate took notice of the look and grinned. “When’s your surgery?” he asked.

“Three days.”

“Plenty of time!”

“But then, I’m going to be hated by Christians.”

“Why?” Slate asked.

“Because I’m getting SRS.”

“Ah. Why's that matter?”

Fred was a bit confused. “I really don’t know.”

“I’ll see if I can shed some light on that.”

At that moment, a woman’s voice said, “Am I interrupting anything?”

Slate turned and saw a woman standing in the doorway to the room.

“This is my wife, Wilma,” Fred told him.

“Hello, Ms. Kramden,” Slate said, holding out his hand. “I'm Rock Slate. I’m a chaplain here.”

Wilma’s eyebrows shot up. “Rock Slate?”

The chaplain laughed. “Honest. I had no idea about your names.”

"Are you sure?" Wilma asked dubiously.

Slate started to leave, but Fred stopped him. "Why's it matter, Pastor?"

"I'm curious too," Wilma said.

"I don't want to intrude on your time together," Slate told them.

"You know," Wilma said, "I lived with a Christian family when I went into foster care. They made it clear that anyone that was involved in 'sexual sins' we're terrible. God wouldn't forgive them 'til they turned their lives around." She looked at Fred for confirmation, and he nodded. "It looks like Fred is inadvertently involved in one of those unforgivable sins."

"Why do you consider them unforgivable?" Slate asked. Before she could answer, though, he asked, "Do you know what entropy is?"

"Everything going from order to disorder." Fred answered.

"That's a pretty good explanation," the chaplain answered.

"What's that got to do with it?" Wilma asked.

Slate pulled up another chair and motioned for Wilma to take the one he'd vacated.

"God told Adam and Eve that if they ate from the tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, they would die."

"But they didn't." Wilma pointed out.

"Ah, but they did. Notice that God didn't tell them that they couldn't eat from the tree of life. As a matter of fact, He drove them out of the garden before they could, in their sinful state."

"Why?"

"Because He had a plan to redeem them from their sin."

"I don't get it." Fred stated.

"When they sinned, entropy destabilized what had been a perfect creation. Notice that they lived into their nine hundreds. Methuselah lived to be nine hundred sixty-nine. Entropy hadn't gone as far as it has now." He paused for his words to sink in.

"You see, as we look through the scriptures, we find that the age people lived to got shorter and shorter. Do you know where Adam and Eve's children got their wives?"

"Their sisters," Wilma said.

"Yeah," Slate agreed. "So why weren't their children inbred?"

"Entropy wasn't as far?" Fred asked, starting to understand.

"Right. As things deteriorated, the human race got bigger and bigger, so they were farther apart. Inbreeding wasn't as likely."

"Wouldn't inbreeding help the entropy along?" Wilma asked.

Slate laughed. "It might have, at that." He grew serious again, though. "But the point is, creation had been perfect, but it wasn't anymore."

"So what did that do, other than shorten lives?" She pressed.

"With entropy acting on DNA, what would happen?"

"Lots of things," Fred put in.

Slate nodded. "Yes. Sickness; congenital disabilities; death – exactly as God said."

"But Adam and Eve's DNA was perfect," Fred argued.

Slate nodded again. "Yep. But remember, entropy. There was suddenly death, so their bodies would have to replace cells that died off. And in that replacement, there was more entropy. The replacement wasn't perfect, so they eventually died."

Wilma thought for a few moments then asked, "So why the prohibition against people like Fred?"

"In the first place, the Bible doesn't mention intersex. As a matter of fact, it doesn't mention transgender at all."

"But men wearing women's clothes and women wearing men's," Wilma countered.

"What is an intersex person?" Slate asked. "Male or female?"

There was silence, then Fred answered. "Both."

Slate only nodded.

"But…" Wilma stopped as Slate held up his hand.

"There's more," the chaplain went on. "Again, there's entropy. An intersex person is defined as someone who has both male and female organs. Well, the brain is the most important sexual organ of all. Remember, God commanded us to 'fill the earth' before the fall. That commandment has stayed present in our general makeup. Look at how people find sex so captivating. The drive to procreate is built into our brain! So, of course, the brain is the most important. And if our brain is opposite of our body in its gender, it wants to be that other way."

"But the prohibition!"

"Entropy," Slate responded. "If the Earth is forty-five hundred years old, and Deuteronomy was written three thousand years ago, how far had entropy gone?"

"Forty-five hundred years?" Fred asked, not answering Slate's question, but rather asking about the age of the Earth.

Slate shook his head. "There are lots of arguments regarding evolution. I'm not getting into that right now. I will say, entropy happens to that as well, but I'm giving you information as to why you are not the 'sinner' that people say you are. Even in a fundamental church. If you truly believe the Bible as it is written, then the logical conclusion is, entropy explains why we have intersex people. For that matter, it explains so many of the 'sexual sins', and why they are prevalent today."

He paused for a moment, then continued. "Assuming the earth is only forty-five hundred years old, and Dueteronomy was written three thousand years ago, entropy has progressed three times farther than it had at that time."

"So why did my foster parents hold those sins so terrible?"

"Ignorance." Slate said. "Dogma." He paused again, then went on. "I doubt that they're terrible people. They were just repeating what they'd been taught. How do you expect someone who has no firsthand knowledge to understand what someone in that situation is going through?"

"In the New Testament, in First Corinthians, Paul, the author, says all things are permissible, but not all things are expedient. In other words, he can do anything, but not that he should. But will it harm someone else's belief in Christ?"

"But he's saying he can sin after he's saved!" Wilma argued.

"Of course he can," Slate said. "Jesus is the way God provided for redemption. His death provided forgiveness for sin throughout the ages."

"But I was told if you sin after you're saved, you have to ask forgiveness again."

"There are some rather fundamental churches that don't believe that," the chaplain pointed out. "Be sorry and apologize, sure. But not ask for forgiveness again. And if you think about it, if God promised eternal life immediately, at salvation, how is it eternal if you can lose it? How is it true that Jesus provided forgiveness for all sin if you need to ask for forgiveness for all subsequent sins after salvation?"

Again, he let them digest this information, then continued. "Jesus said, ‘believe on me and you're saved’. Not ‘believe on me and fix your life, and you'll be saved’."

Slate looked at his watch and said, "Well, I don't want to take up all your time together. Just think about what I said." He laughed, then said, "Our law says ignorance is no excuse, but God says we are to tell everyone about Him. He doesn't want anyone to perish."

"But what about people who haven't heard of Him? Not everyone who's died knew about Him."

"Tell you what. I'll come to talk to you about that tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure," Fred answered.