“I never can remember which of your dragon-girl forms is and isn’t ticklish,” Britt mused.
A little while after Dad returned to the room, when he seemed more awake, Mom told him what the doctor had said. “I know you didn’t want to consider venning, but I hope you’ll reconsider. It sounds like it’s going to be very difficult and chancy to fix this, given how inaccessible the bleeding spot is. You said you didn’t want to venn unless you had a life-threatening illness that couldn’t be treated medically, but I think we’re pretty much there now.”
Dad didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then he asked some questions about the other potential options the doctor had mentioned, and we answered as best we could remember. At last, he said: “Yeah. It sounds like venning is the best option at this point.” He glanced at me. “But just fixing this. I don’t want to look like I’m barely older than our kids.”
“All right,” Mom said. “Let’s see about getting you out of here. I’ll call Mom and ask if she knows where the closest Venn machine is.”
“I can look it up,” I said, pulling out my phone and opening vennlocator.com.
It took several hours to get Dad discharged, most of which apparently involved paperwork. While we were waiting, we hashed out some details of what Dad wanted for his venned form. At last, late in the afternoon, they let him go, and Mom drove us to the nearest Venn machine, which was on a street corner a few blocks away.
We parked on the street near the Venn machine and I got out. Dad was still a little unsteady on his feet, so he stayed in the car while I waited in line by myself until it was my turn. Then I waved to Mom and Nathan, put a slip of paper in the slot, and set the machine for three years. Mom and Nathan helped Dad walk from the car to the door of the machine, where he slumped against the wall as I entered the other booth.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s make this quick. Healthy and about five years younger.” The diverse bubbles changed to a more homogeneous set of images, most of them younger, healthier versions of Dad with no other changes, although there were still a few outliers with changes I hadn’t asked for. I searched through them and picked one, maybe on the younger side of the age range I saw, with a major reversal of Dad’s hair loss and greying, and a healthy weight. “Ready?”
“Go ahead,” Dad said, still leaning against the wall of the booth.
I pressed the green button, and Dad straightened up.
“How do you feel?”
“Great,” he said. “Are you sure you only made me five years younger?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think the machine knows exactly what you looked like five years ago, and I don’t have a perfect memory, but roughly? You’re certainly looking healthy, and that’s the most important part.”
I was a little nervous that Dad would push the red button and revert me to my original body, but of course, then he would undo his change and go back to his anemic, exhausted body, and he wouldn’t want to do that. And he probably didn’t know enough about the interface of the Venn machine to do that, anyway. In any case, the seconds ticked by and the doors opened.
“How are you feeling?” Mom asked as we came out.
“Great,” Dad said, and kissed her. Nathan and I applauded, as did a couple of the people waiting in line behind us.
“Now,” Mom said, turning to me, “I want you to make me the same age as your dad.”
“All right,” I said. “Let’s get back in line.”
“Honey —” Dad said, but Mom shook her head.
“I’m doing this. We can talk later about whether we want to tweak things further, but for now I want to be the same age as you again.”
Dad seemed to see that it wasn’t any use arguing, and Mom and I got back in line. A few minutes later, we were in the machine.
“About five years younger?” I asked. The image bubbles changed as I spoke.
“Yes, that’s what you did for your father, right?”
“Yeah. Okay, just a minute.” I pored over the images for one that looked at least five years younger, and maybe in slightly better shape than I thought Mom had been in five years earlier. I picked one and then looked over the new bubbles to see if any of them looked better; none did, so I pressed the green button.
We went back to the car, got in, and drove back to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.
“Y’all will need to put reminders in your calendar for a few days short of three years from now,” I said. “For Mom it might not be so bad, but Dad, if you let it expire on its own, you might start bleeding and pass out before you could get to a Venn machine. And then Mom or your co-workers or whoever you’re with couldn’t venn you because you’re unconscious. So it would be best to re-venn several days early.”
“I think you can just go in the booths and press the green buttons, right?” Nathan said. “If you want to keep the forms you’ve already got, I mean.”
“Yeah, that’ll work.”
“Thanks for the information, Lauren,” Dad said. “I’ll be sure to set up multiple reminders.”
* * *
Mom had talked about cooking Dad’s favorite meal (chicken Parmesan with rosemary potatoes) for supper the day he got out, but she was so frazzled mentally after all the stress of the last few days, despite being freshly rejuvenated, that she suggested we go out for supper. After talking with Grandma and Grandpa about their recommendations and looking at reviews of some local restaurants, Dad picked a steakhouse and we went out. Meanwhile, I was booking a flight back to Greensboro for me and Nathan for the following day; Grandma let me use her credit card to pay for it.
I’d already texted Jada, Britt, and Meredith earlier about Dad agreeing to be venned, and on the way to the restaurant, I texted them again with flight details, and called Metamorphoses to let Mr. Buckholtz know I’d be back in town the next day and could go back to work on Friday.
Supper that night was the best meal we’d had that whole visit, even though the food wasn’t any better than Grandma’s cooking. Dad and I could finally more or less relax around one another, and everyone else seemed to sense that too, leading to less tension and more free-flowing conversation all around. Plus there was Dad’s rejuvenation to celebrate. It felt more like Christmas than our actual Christmas dinner.
That night we finally watched some of the movies we’d planned to watch on Christmas day, but hadn’t gotten to: Meet John Doe, Frosty the Snowman, and the movie I’d gotten Dad for Christmas, The Mountain Eagle. We might have watched more, but some of us had to catch an early flight, and Mom and Dad decided they might as well get on the road about the same time Grandma and Grandpa drove me, Nathan and Desiree to the airport. So we said our goodnights well before midnight, and given how poorly I’d slept over the last few days, I needed it; I was sound asleep after bare moments of snuggling with Desiree.
The next morning, we ate an early breakfast together before hastily packing and hurrying off to the airport. At the Venn machines near baggage claim, I re-venned Nathan and most of our luggage into the “MP3 player” form from his history, and then clipped him to my blouse and put on his choker and earbuds before going through security and boarding the plane. Desiree rode in my carry-on bag until I’d found my seat, then I got her out and let her sit on my lap for the rest of the flight.
When we got to Greensboro, I put Desiree in the locker with my carry-on bag, put Nathan in one booth of the Venn machine, and went in the other booth.
“Could you change me into the purple-scaled dragon-girl from my history?” I asked him.
“Sure.” Moments later, we were on our way to his car.
All of the Ramseys were home when we arrived, except Caleb, who had already gone back to Greensboro, and they urged Nathan to stay for lunch before driving back to Mars Hill.
“It sounds like y’all had an eventful Christmas,” Mr. Ramsey said.
“Tell me about it,” Nathan said. “I want every Christmas for the rest of my life to be quiet and boring.”
“Amen,” I said. “Boring is beautiful.”
We filled them in on more details as we ate, though I’d told Meredith a fair amount in calls and texts over the last few days and she’d passed on the most important parts to her family.
“So you and your dad are getting along okay now?” Sophia asked me.
“Pretty okay? I’m not sure he’s really okay with me being trans, but he’s not being belligerent about it or refusing to talk to me anymore, and he seems to be trying to understand.”
“I was where he is a few years ago,” Mr. Ramsey said. “Give him some more time.”
“Do you have plans to visit your parents again any time soon?” Mrs. Ramsey asked.
“I still don’t have a car, so not really?” I said. “But maybe if Nathan’s going to Durham for Easter or Mother’s Day or whatever, I can get a ride with him.”
“Sure thing,” Nathan said.
After lunch, Nathan and I hugged, and he drove off.
* * *
I called Jada and Britt to let them know I was back in town, and they both asked if I was too tired to meet up that evening.
“Not too bad,” I said to Jada. “I don’t want to go on a long date or I’d probably fall asleep and drool on your shoulder for half the movie, but we could hang out for an hour or so and see more of each other at the New Year’s Eve party.”
“That’ll be good,” Jada said. “I’ve been keeping my schedule open because I didn’t know when you’d get home. What about if I pick you up around six? That might let you take a nap beforehand.”
“Probably a good idea,” I agreed. “See you then.”
I took a short nap, then showered and changed into a casual sweater and skirt with leggings, and hung out with Meredith and Sophia for a while until Jada and Britt came by a few minutes after six. Jada was a plant-girl with fluffy moss all over her body, while Britt was wearing her usual four-armed body.
“Hey, Lauren!” they greeted me when I got in the back seat. “Lydia’s up here in my lap,” Britt added. “She’s eager to merge with you and get your memories of the last week.”
“We’re really talking with Dad now?” Lydia piped up.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s not perfect, he still doesn’t understand, but he’s trying. Be prepared, though, the memories of Christmas Day aren’t gonna be fun.”
We went by the library and got in line. “Desiree, do you want to merge with Jada?” I asked.
“Nah, I’ll wait until she’s ready to re-split before going off to college. I don’t want to spoil the surprise of all the stories you’re going to tell her during supper.”
It didn’t take too long to get to the head of the line, and I sat down on a bench while Jada popped Lydia in the machine. The memories of an uneventful Christmas at Jada’s house flooded my mind; she’d shared her bedroom with her sister while her aunt and uncle and cousins were visiting, so I’d had to keep quiet and pretend to be inanimate much of the time. At the same time, I was shaken by the memories of the tense days of avoiding Dad and tiptoeing around him when I couldn’t avoid him, followed by an afternoon of loosening up a little, then him passing out, rushing to the hospital, tossing and turning all night in between updates from Mom... Then the day at the hospital with Dad...
“You okay?” Jada asked. “You don’t look good.”
“Just reliving some traumatic memories,” I said. “And some surprisingly good ones.” I smiled. “Let’s go eat, I’m starved.”
We ate supper at Arby’s, exchanged gifts, and talked about our respective Christmases. Even though I’d given them updates by phone all week, they had a lot of questions and I realized there was a lot I’d left out. And a lot I hadn’t fully processed.
“I still don’t know how much he actually accepts me for who I am and how much he just decided to stop trying to order me to change back because I’m an adult now,” I said. “And didn’t want to die without reconciling with me. There’s so much we didn’t have time to talk about, even with me spending most of the day with him — he was asleep part of the time, and the nurses kept coming in and doing stuff...”
“Well,” Britt said, “just take it slow, I guess?”
“Hopefully he’ll keep getting better,” Jada said, “if he gets worse instead, you can stop talking to him and you’re no worse off than you were for the last few months.”
“Except I’ll have gotten my hopes up and then had them dashed,” I said, my wings closing tighter around my shoulders. Jada leaned over and put an arm around me.
“We’ll be here for you if that happens,” she said. “And —”
But I’d gotten distracted. “Ooooh, your moss is so soft. This is way better than fur!”
“You like it too, huh?” Britt said with a grin. “You ever go walking barefoot on moss? I guess not, if you’re so surprised at how good she feels.”
“I haven’t walked on moss, but I’ve rubbed my hands on it... She’s soft like that, but warm, too, not cool like moss you find in the woods.”
“Let’s finish eating and go somewhere we can snuggle for a while,” Jada said.
So we did. We went to Britt’s house and snuggled and watched anime for a couple of hours, a good bit longer than I’d planned to stay out, but Jada’s moss was so comfortable, and I fell asleep leaning against her. She woke me up when the episode was over.
“Time to go home, sleepyhead,” she said. “Didn’t you tell me you have work tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I’ll call in sick because moss is soft.”
“I never can remember which of your dragon-girl forms is and isn’t ticklish,” Britt mused. I sat up.
“No need to find out,” I said.
I hugged Britt goodbye, and Jada drove me home. We made out in the Ramseys’ driveway for a couple of minutes before I forced myself to get out and go inside.
My new short fiction collection, Gender Panic and Other Stories, contains 253,948 words of transgender fiction: seven short stories, seven novelettes, one novella, and two short novels. Six of the stories (including both novels), 163,318 words, have never appeared online before. It can be found at:
- Smashwords (epub)
- itch.io (epub, pdf, and mobi)
- Amazon (Kindle)
You can find my other ebook novels and short fiction collections here:
Comments
Only two more to go!
This has been a fun ride, and the conclusion is close. Thank you for the interesting tail, Trismegistus Shandy. I look forward to how you will tie off the remaining threads. :-)
- Leona