After everything was done and over, and everyone had a chance to recover and the Endowment people had a chance to clean up the “fortress” and the fortress grounds, and everything started to get back to normal, I asked to go to Florence, Italy. Very cheeky of me, that I would just say we were going. No one questioned me, but nowadays, I always get my way. All they asked was, “Where in Italy?”

“Voglio andare alla Galleria degli Uffizi,” I said in flawless Italian, but then, everything I do was flawless nowadays.

What I said was that I wanted to go to the Uffizi Gallery, a museum and gallery in the famous Piazza della Signora in Florence, Italy. Some people in my, um, “entourage,” wondered why I wanted to go to Italy. Some of them said, maybe I just wanted to play tourist. But most just took it at face value and said, what’s the difference? All that mattered was that I wanted to go to Italy.

So, in a few days, we were in Florence. Someone had hired a big, spacious limousine ahead of our arrival, as well as all the other things that we would have needed.

Before stepping down from my plane, I checked out my outfit and makeup in the mirror. I decided to take off my girdle – I was more self–assured nowadays so I found that I didn’t need much assistance lately to keep me more confident. I unbuttoned my blouse, took the shiny girdle off, and just dropped it onto one of the chairs – it’s not as if anyone would dare take it. Besides, it wouldn’t work for anyone else.

And with only Carla, Michael, and one big bodyguard with me in the car, we went off to the gallery, although about a half-dozen cars comprising the rest of my motorcade followed. It was a discrete motorcade, to be sure, and most wouldn’t notice us as we drove through the city.

I instructed the local driver (who came with the rented limo) to stop at a flower shop – in flawless Italian, of course, lol. Instead of buying roses as I normally would, at the shop, I got a bouquet of three dozen yellow tulips. I picked tulips because tulips symbolized perfection, specifically perfect and deep love, or unconditional love. And I picked yellow-orange because it went well with my current look. What can I say – these things come automatically to me, now.

Carla, Michael, and my entourage walked with me and a nice museum staffer brought us to the painting, “The Birth of Venus,” by Botticelli. Holding my flowers in my arms, I sat on the bench that was immediately in front of the painting, Carla and Michael sitting to the left and right of me, and stared at it. “Beautiful painting,” I murmured. Carla and Michael understood why we were there. Carla hugged me.

Michael, trying to make light of things, shrugged. “I don’t know,” Michael said. “I prefer Da Vinci over Botticelli myself.”

“Ha-ha,” I said sarcastically and elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oof!” He exclaimed, and I apologized. I still didn’t know my new strength, yet.

After some time, I stood and left the bouquet at the foot of the painting. I put my arms through Carla’s and Michael’s, and we walked around the gallery, leisurely taking in the rest of the art displayed in the gallery, and then we departed for home.

I was anxious to get back. I was anxious to start changing the world already. For the better, hopefully – that was the plan. But change it I will. I was determined.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 1: In the Beginning

 

I was still a high school junior on that fateful day a little over a year ago when I found out the truth about myself, and when I was called into the vice principal’s office.

“Sorry, kid,” he said as he ushered me into his office. “This’ll be quick. Hopefully…” The “hopefully” was ominous.

The Vice Principal’s Office was very small and was quite… ramshackle as far as school offices go. And it was a bit small – but at least it was larger than the coach’s office back in my old school. But then that was a converted broom closet, and this wasn’t.

He gestured at one of his visitor chairs, and I sat. It was one of those big executive office chairs that you see in old movies – the kind that one practically sinks into. I found that, even though I was of average height at around five-ten, I found I couldn’t see over the wide and tall backrest, and I couldn’t see to my left and right given its old-style headrest that practically surrounded my head.

His office furniture was mismatched, with stuff scrounged from around the school, or second-hand government office stuff bought from clearance sales, such as my chair. The other visitor’s chair was also a cast-off - an old leather office chair with a straight, padded, rectangular back and spindly armrests. The rest of the furniture included an old 1950s–style metal office table, mismatched wooden shelves, old metal filing cabinets, et cetera. It sort of showed how low Mr. Daimon’s position in the school’s hierarchy was.

The vice principal’s chair, though, was a modern mesh office chair. Guess he wanted something nice for himself.

He then proceeded to tell me a tall tale that I found – well, judge for yourself.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 2: The Human Genome Project, Heterochromatin and the Food of the Gods

 

Fighting

“Is this about the fight at the gym, sir?” I asked Mr. Daimon. “I had nothing to with it. I was at the cafeteria. You ask around – I’m sure lots of people will say they saw me.”

The vice principal shook his head. “No, this isn’t about that,” he said. “I called you in for something else.” He sat down as well. “Miss Cleo, your history and homeroom teacher, tells me you are quite an intelligent, studious, and polite young man.”

I shrugged. “If she says so, sir.”

“And that you get along quite well with the other kids, not to mention being very popular among the girls.”

I shrugged again.

“And the boys, too…”

I looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “What did you mean by that?” I asked querulously.

“I’ve been told the boys also like you, too. If you know what I mean.” He made a peremptory gesture. “Don’t get me wrong – I’m not judging. So long as you’re careful and don’t hurt any of the other kids, I don’t care.”

I was starting to get irritated. “I’m not gay, sir, if that’s what you’re implying. Is it my fault your kids are all homos?”

“That’s uncalled for, Val,” he said. “I’m not saying anything about your sexual orientation, or your schoolmates’ orientation. But it remains a fact that a lot of the girls, AND the boys, are sweet on you. You can’t deny it. It’s all over the junior class.”

I looked at him, troubled. The adults see it, too, apparently – that gave me some relief. It wasn’t just in my head. “… I… I don’t know, sir… it’s not as if I’m encouraging it. At least not with the guys. And I’m not gay! I’m not into guys! I like girls. It’s not my fault that they like to come on to me! I’m not sending out any signals if you know what I mean, or I don’t think so, at least. So I don’t understand it. I don’t act weird or dress weird or do weird things… At least I don’t think I do…”

He gave me an understanding, commiserating look. “No, you don’t. I’m sorry to hear that, Val.”

“But it’s not like they fight or hurt me. What happens, mostly is they fight over me.”

He looked at me, evaluating. “Even the girls?”

“Well, the girls don’t fight – physically, at least. It’s more like they’re being snarky or bitchy and would insult each other – like that. But, yeah, they fight over me. Just not in a physical way.

“As for the guys… well, there’ve been at least a dozen times when it’s gotten to blows… I’ve even broken up a couple of those fights. I don’t understand it. Those are worse, I think – people get hurt, I mean actually, physically get hurt.”

“Were you hurt those times when you had to break up the fight?”

“Well, no. I’m stronger than I look.”

He looked at me in that way again. “Thank the gods for that.”

Questions

“I don’t understand why they have to be like that,” I said. “Why can’t people just get along?” I heard what I just said in my head. I sounded so… lame.

“I might be able to explain,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Ms Cleo said you were smart. Let’s just see how much.”

“Huh?” I repeated.

“Do you know about the Human Genome Project?”

“Yes, sir.” What a non sequitur, I thought. And I knew it - a quiz. These guys are really taking our test SAT scores super-seriously, because of the scholarships at stake, maybe.

“Tell me about the Human Genome Project.”

Tests, tests, and more tests… “Well, sir, the Human Genome Project was an international research project to map out the base pairs that make up the human DNA.”

“Why was this important?”

“One big reason for it was that this would help in finding the genetic roots of disease and then developing treatments.”

He nodded. “How about Bletchley Park and the Second World War? Do you know anything about that?”

Wow. That’s another pretty big non-sequitur. “You mean the Enigma Machine, Alan Turing, and all that?”

“Yes.”

“Well, not much, Mr. Daimon. I knew that World War 2 codebreakers, based out of Bletchley Park and led by Alan Turing, broke the Germans’ secret code, which was generated using their Enigma cipher machines.”

“Good, good. How about Dr. Hephaestus and the Golden Theory?”

That was a stumper. “Ah, no, sir.”

“How about the Lelantos Corporation.”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid I don’t, sir.”

“That’s okay. I’d be surprised if you’d heard of any of them. One last thing – do you know what the ‘Kodikos Ton Theon’ is?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. Let’s shift gears. Do you know the background of our school?”

“Well, sir, I know that Delos High is run by the Delos School Foundation, and is funded by the Aristotle Endowment from Europe…”

“And?”

“… and that the endowment is dedicated to quality education for young people, and they do it through training programs subsidized by the endowment.”

“How do you know this?”

“Well, my folks got an email, inviting me to apply for a high school program – a scholarship - and all this detail was in the email…”

“Just like all our students. Tell me, what made you and your folks decide to accept the scholarship?”

“Well, it’s free and it subsidizes everything. My folks won’t need to pay for anything, and if I make the grade, I get to go to any college of my choice anywhere in the country for free.”

“I would have assumed your folks would be very suspicious of such an email, unsolicited and out of the blue…”

“You’re telling me! But Dad and I – we did our best to confirm if this was legit or if it was a scam. Needless to say, it wasn’t a scam. The Board of Education confirmed it, actually, and we checked out the school itself. And I was seriously thinking of quitting my old school anyway, so this might just be it.”

“Quitting your old school?”

“Well, let me just say my teachers said I was a very disruptive influence, and I didn’t want to be the cause of anything like that… I wasn’t that happy there, sir, and my grades were starting to get affected…”

“I see…”

I was starting to get exasperated. “Mr. Daimon, what’s this all about?”

“Well, let me tell you.”

Explanations

Apparently, according to Mr. Daimon, The Delos School Foundation of Chicago was, indeed, run by the Aristotle Endowment based in Athens, Greece. Delos was one of ten around the globe run by the Endowment, which included secondary schools / high schools in Saint John (in New Brunswick, Canada), London, Athens, Viterbo (that’s an Italian city near Rome), Cape Town, Kyoto, Seoul, Amsterdam, and Melbourne (the Melbourne one was the smallest school among the ten).

These ten high schools had good reputations and their graduates had good academic records, but they deliberately did their best to keep under the public's radar. How the Endowment’s schools selected their students was a mystery, and it seemed to really be random, but part of the vetting process for candidates included a medical examination – not exactly normal but not unheard of, especially after the global COVID pandemic. However, that medical exam wasn’t just pro forma – Mr. Daimon said it was actually the main part of the vetting process. Because the DNA profiles of the candidates were the CENTRAL reason for their selection.

Back during World War II, the various eugenics programs of the Nazis revealed that there were certain characteristics among the people in Europe that the Nazis found desirable. After the war, these programs were distilled and refined by certain people among the Allies, this time including all the people that the Nazis didn’t use in their programs due to their off-kilter world views, and they came to the same conclusions – that much of the global population had these “special qualities” that aren’t known by mainstream science. The ethics of the Nazi programs were… questionable, but the movers of the new program had other more altruistic goals – this new program wasn’t about eliminating certain races now or such, or of creating a master race, but was about discovering cures to certain things that ailed the human race – cancer, for example, and various diseases and conditions. With the discovery the base sequence of nucleic acids, and the mechanisms of DNA, the new program went into full speed, and in as little as six months, they started zooming in on the undeniable fact that the roots of many of humanity’s problems were genetic in nature and that these might be built-in to the natural human condition.

Mr. Daimon then abruptly changed topics.

In the fifties, after the new program had been underway for a few years, priests and monks in the New Saint Dionysios Monastery in Greece took from the original Saint Dionysios Monastery (which the new one replaced) several artifacts and relics, for preservation and display. Among the most ancient of these relics, there was something called the “Kodikos Ton Theon,” or the God Codecs or, literally translated, the “Code of the Gods.” It was made up of several flat tablets of granite - actually, forty in all - that bore letters and symbols from the Fayum Alphabet, an ancient writing system that even predated ancient Greek writings. But as much as they tried, the scientists, linguists, philologists, and archeologists who took interest couldn’t make head or tail of it. This puzzled Val, though, as it didn’t seem to have anything to do with Delos High, but Mr. Daimon continued.

Later on, in the late eighties, a Greek scientist working at the American NIH named Dr. Hephaestus became part of what eventually became the Human Genome Project, and he had heard of the Kodikos. Needless to say, he was Greek, with a name that harkened back to ancient Greek mythology. Perhaps because of this, he had taken a keen interest in ancient Greece and ancient Greek mythology. So, naturally, he was interested in the Kodikos.

After an in-depth though amateurish analysis of pictures of the Kodikos (he didn’t have access to the actual stone tablets), he made an intuitive leap – that the Kodikos were actually a DNA map – ten DNA maps etched in code onto forty stone tablets the size of Apple iPads. It wasn’t surprising that he broke the code – he was a geneticist, after all, and was working with the HGP, so the pairs of symbols seemed a natural conclusion. At least to him – not necessarily to others.

Originally, he thought that it used a kind of code. After talking with some people who worked in Bletchley Park during World War II, he was told that it wasn’t some secret code – it was just written using an ancient language. The folks he talked to were pretty old by then, so he doubted their opinions. But he checked it out, and they were right. He then made a translated version of these DNA maps and published a paper on it. They weren’t complete DNA maps, but

But weeks after the publication of his paper, Dr. Hephaestus quietly went missing, and his article mysteriously disappeared from the records of the few scientific journals that deigned to publish his obscure paper. Likewise, most references to the Kodikos disappeared from public sources. Sure, some people would have copies of the actual paper as well as material about the Kodikos tablets, but no one really paid attention to the article and it was soon forgotten, while the tablets were at best a vaguely interesting artifact. If one went to the publications’ offices, they wouldn’t remember having published it nor even have records about it. It was an obscure scientific paper, after all.

Months later, the doctor’s car was found at the bottom of a ravine in California. Though no remains were found, the authorities concluded that the doctor had died from this terrible car accident.

A year after that, the Aristotle Endowment was founded.

- - - - - - - -

Mr. Daimon revealed that the whole point of the Aristotle Endowment was to find individuals that had DNA maps similar to the partial maps Dr. Hephaestus “discovered,” and to observe and test these individuals in a fully controlled environment - without letting them know they were being observed and tested. They weren’t expecting exact matches, of course – finding very similar maps was very unlikely – but what they were interested in were just the heterochromatin portions of their DNA code. Heterochromatin was very gene-poor and were still being studied, but it’s known that one of its primary functions was their ability to silence euchromatic gene expression. As such, it had the ability to control the expression of DNA code, which touches on epigenetics.

Large parts of the heterochromatin portions of the ten partial DNA maps in the Kodikos were practically the same among all ten, and it was these that the Endowment concentrated on: so those parts of the DNA maps of all of the recruited Delos’ students were very similar to these portions in the Kodikos maps – close but not exactly the same, since a 100% map wouldn’t be statistically possible. Furthermore, it was difficult to match since the portion of the code that matches varies in their location in the chain.

However, Mr. Daimon said that instead of the heterochromatin portions of my code just being similar, it was an exact match to those from one of the Kodikos maps (specifically, the second map of the ten). I was the first one that they found that had a section of their DNA match exactly one of the Kodikos codes. Up till then, they were just happy to get similar codes. My exact match was almost an impossibility. The significance of this made me very important to them.

They originally thought I only had a match for the common components of the ten maps, so I was offered a spot in Delos. But as they ran a full evaluation, and my DNA was evaluated against each of the ten Kodikos maps, I had various percent matches with each, varying between fifty and sixty-five (with a couple that even had an eighty-five percent match). But on the very last map they tested for, I had a full match.

Aside from the Kodikos, there were also several green metal plates among the relics inside the Saint Dionysios Monastery which the monks of the new monastery couldn’t recover – apparently, someone else beat them to it - these plates were actually found long before World War 2. There were ancient-Greek age bronze plates on which ancient Greek writing was etched, which was like a story written in epic poem form (which was supposedly the style preferred by the ancients). And these “poems” talked about how the ancient deities of Greek legend sought to preserve their godly lineage from the ravages of time, and from mongrelization with mortal man.

The tale etched into these plates (those who found them called them the “Golden Theory”) wasn’t a story that was part of the pantheon of stories known from Greek mythology. Mr. Daimon said that it was a story about the god Hephaestus – the mythical god of fire and the forge, and his wife Aphrodite – the most beautiful among all the gods. The story was about the coming of the end of the Gods, where, because of the vicissitudes of time, the gods would “go away” (that was all that was said about it – they used the Greek word, “fyge”), so the two created or invented an elixir or something like that, which the people at the Endowment said was most probably the legendary “food of the gods,” that, in the fullness of time, mortal men that are blessed with godlike attributes can become the resurrection of the race of gods when they “imbibe” of the elixir, and the race of Olympus will again walk the Earth.

It was the interpretation of the people from the Endowment that the godlike “attributes” referred to were their ancestry – if mortals who had Olympians among their ancestry were given that elixir, whatever that was, their recessive Olympian genetics would express themselves, and they would transform into gods. As to how to find these mortals, the plates referred to the Kodikos, but then the Kodikos were only found years later…

- - - - - - - -

I listened to Mr. Daimon. He had talked for what felt like hours! Sure enough, when I looked at my watch, classes had been long over already.

“Sir?” I said. I was about to tell him about the time. Mr. Daimon noticed me looking at my watch, so he lifted a peremptory hand.

He lifted his phone’s receiver and called the school principal. “Geoff,” he said, “I’m with Val right now. No, we’re not done yet. Call his folks and tell them he’ll be in school for a while more. Tell them anything you want – let’s just not get him in trouble at home. Okay? … Great. Oh, that’s right. Yes, thanks for reminding me. Tell them we’ll eat here in my office and bring it here. Thirty minutes, maybe. Do it now.”

He hung up and looked at me. “You’re all set at home. Your folks won’t need to worry. Also, in case I take too much time to finish up, I just sent out for some food.”

I looked at him goggle-eyed. No one talks to our principal that way! Especially the vice principal!

“So. Any questions?”

I shook my head and, in my mind, I returned to the incredible story he told me. So, if what he said was true, then I’m going to be a god? And all I need is some injection of this “food of the gods?” Or was it actual food? Do I just drink it or something? But then how can these people believe this crazy story!

“You sincerely believe this crap?” I asked.

Mr. Daimon laughed uproariously, and it took him some time to recover. “Ah, Val!” he said but had to stop and try to get a hold of himself.

“Ah, Val…” he said again and wiped his eyes.

I folded my arms and waited.

“I understand,” he said. “Can’t blame you for questioning my story, but, yes, it’s all true.”

He looked into my face. “But you don’t believe it,” he said. “Like I said, can’t blame you.”

He reached into his shirt pocket and took out a big, old-style thumb drive which was the length and width of a stick of chewing gum. He walked to the TV mounted against one wall of his office, plugged the stick into the side of the TV, went back to his chair, and got out a remote control from his desk.

He switched the TV on, and as video and pictures were flashed onto the screen, Mr. Daimon explained.

“Here you see the original Kodikos. It’s kept in the main office of the Endowment in Athens.” On the screen were displayed forty stone tablets, each the size of the original Apple iPad. On the face of each were rows of paired symbols or letters. At the bottom center of each plate was a small phrase. I couldn’t read them, of course.

“We have grouped the tablets into ten sets of three to five tablets each,” he said, “and the reason we were able to group them was because each tablet had a name at the bottom. And you’d be surprised at the names.”

I looked at him, my interest piqued. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. This first set of four tablets, for example, bears the name ‘Hephaistos.’” He pointed at the symbols on the lower middle part of the stone.

“Wow…”

“The second set, the one with the largest number of tablets – seven – has the name ‘Aphrodite.’”

“You’re kidding…”

“The next two tablets have the name Hermes, the next three Poseidon, and then the other groups have the names Zeus, Eros, Koios, Mnemosyne, Ares, and the last is Metis.” As he rattled off the names, he kept on flashing pictures of the tablets.

“Zeus. Really? Oh my god.”

“Yeah.” Mr. Daimon smiled at my reaction.

“Why these particular names?”

Mr. Daimon shrugged. “Maybe these were the only ones that Hephaestus could find at the time and sample. I mean, he included himself and Aphrodite – he was probably hard up for samples. Or maybe there were a lot more tablets but we just couldn’t find them.”

I looked at him. “You’re really believing all this, huh?”

“Yes.”

“And you really think there were gods way back when?”

“Well, what I think was that, during ancient times, there were human-like creatures, or perhaps another species of humans, that had certain physical characteristics and abilities that made ancient people think of them as, quote, gods.”

I nodded at that – that sounded quite reasonable. But when he said “ancient,” I had an idea.

“Did you carbon-date these things or something?”

He nodded. “Our best numbers say the tablets are between at least ten thousand years old, and, at most, twenty thousand – both the metal plates and the Kodikos.”

“Wow…”

“Indeed,” he said. “Up to now, I’m still speechless about it.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Well, we’ve been at it since the late forties, but it only started to really gain headway during the eighties when genetic and DNA technology were advanced enough that it made things like the Human Genome Project possible. Back then, from the forties to the seventies, the operation was just trying to identify gross genetic characteristics of people. By then the Golden Theory plates were discovered and translated. The ‘attributes’ that the plates alluded to where what we were most interested in. It referred to the Kodikos, but they were still to be discovered.”

“Wait…” I said, suddenly realizing something. “The NIH scientist that discovered and translated the Kodikos tablets… his name was ‘Hephaestus…’”

Mr. Daimon nodded. “Yes, I was waiting for that. That was just a happenstance – a coincidence. The one who discovered the Kodikos tablets wasn’t the god that made them – he was just a regular human.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. To me, that sounded a bit suspicious, but I let it go for now.

Mr. Daimon continued. He flashed some more pictures and videos, and I saw the so-called “Golden Theory.” The first pictures were bright green with patina, but after the bronze artifacts had been cleaned, they turned out to be gold or rather, more reddish copper than real gold since they were bronze.

There were also other pictures, like the pictures of the monastery and other things, and as I took it all in, I started to believe.

“If you really started to make progress around the late eighties,” I said, “then you had more than fifty years. Have you discovered… your latter-day gods?”

“Well, we aren’t hopeful that we will anytime soon. All we can do is identify kids with DNA similar to the ten DNA maps in the Kodikos. And as we accumulated more and more of these kids, we noticed that these kids, pardon the term, were ‘better’ than the rest of the population – typically stronger, better reflexes, sharper senses, and so forth. Not like Marvel superheroes, of course – just generally all-around better than average than most regular folks. They also seem to have natural protections against cancer and most viral and bacteriological diseases, and they don’t seem to have genetic problems. There seemed to be a correlation with this and how similar their DNA codes were to the Kodikos Ten. We won’t know with full certainty, of course, until we accumulate more data, but I think that’s academic by now. What’s important is that we’re well on our way to our goal of improving the human condition.

”Anyway, we rate all of our students and graduates. Those that we’ve offered scholarships to had to have scores of at least fifty or more, meaning a fifty percent or more match to the Kodikos Ten, and then throughout their stay in our schools, we’d observe and test them. And right now, our work is starting to pay dividends: we’ve started to help companies that are doing gene therapy programs and gene therapy cures, sharing with them what we knew, without, of course, sharing the fundamental foundations of the Endowment, and the information available to it.”

What’s the highest score that you’ve ever gotten?”

“We have about a couple of thousand our graduates who scored sixty-five or higher - a couple of them even scored around eighty-five.”

“Is that good?”

“We don’t know, precisely. And don’t ask who these people are – I won’t tell.” He grinned.

“Why the hell not?”

He smiled again and shrugged. “Reasons,” he said.

“Anyway,” he continued, “that’s all we’ve been able to do. Right now, what we’re concentrating on is an easier way to find more of these kinds of kids. Imagine if we could just do a simple test and quickly identify such individuals, and then rate them on how close their heterochromatin chains were to the Kodikos Ten.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“One would think,” he said. “But even though we have the ten DNA maps from the Kodikos, how do you locate matches, especially since the position in the code changes from person to person, and then incorporate that data into a small, easy-to-use portable detection device? And then how can we make wide use of such devices and legitimately test people?”

I thought it through. Yes, that could be a problem.

“Also,” he continued, “how do we catch these individuals between the ages of fourteen to eighteen?”

Huh? “Why?” I asked.

“Well, that’s the age when the Ambrosia – that’s what the so-called ‘food of the gods’ is called - would work on them and allow their recessive Olympus DNA code to be expressed so that their transformation into their better selves would be initiated.”

In my imagination, I had, in my mind, something like how the Hulk or Spider-Man transformed. “Can you describe how such a transformation would happen?” I asked.

“Nothing spectacular, really. Slowly, over time – typically a period of about nine months, they’d notice general improvements in their abilities and such, and then they’d stabilize.”

That was disappointing. “How about their looks and features? Things like that?”

Mr. Daimon shrugged. “Again, nothing spectacular – they’d largely still look like themselves, except they’d be a bit taller, slightly better-looking, healthier-looking, that kind of thing. Just that. But nothing spectacular., like I said.”

Again, that sounded disappointing. She imagined transforming from being normal to a Marvel-type superhero. But that was too good to be true. The real thing was extremely boring in comparison.

“And, according to you, I’m going to be like that?” I asked

“Well… no…”

“But you said…”

“You’re different. As I said, all of our students and graduates score around fifty. Some up to sixty-five, with a couple reaching eighty-five or so, whereas you…”

I started to worry. “What about me?”

“You scored one hundred…”

That made me think, and what I imagined made me both excited and worried.

“What does that mean?”

“We don’t know, yet. But word has come down from Athens. I am supposed to brief you about things, which I’ve done, and then to ask your permission if you would like to… proceed.”

“Why?”

“We don’t, normally, because nothing bad happens. But we don’t’ know what’ll happen to you. Whatever we are, we try to be as ethical as we can possibly be, and still continue with our work.”

“Will it be bad? Will I become… like a monster or something.” I had a sudden fear of becoming like Medusa.

Mr. Daimon probably guessed what I was thinking, and chuckled. “No. Probably not.”

“Then why all this?”

Mr. Daimon cleared his throat. “Well, like I said, ‘probably not.’ We aren’t a hundred percent sure what will happen. Our experience with Erin… anyway, we need to let you know that we don’t know what’ll happen, and you therefore have to make the decision - not us.”

“Who’s Erin?”

“Erin Smith – she was from the Melbourne school several years ago.”

“What happened to her? Did she become a monster?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. … But it has become policy to ask first now, especially for those with higher-than-normal scores. And those with a less than ideal match to their Kodikos map.”

“Why are you telling me all this only now?”

“Well, it was only last week that we confirmed your 100 score…”

It made me think. What to do? It was an incredible temptation – to be changed into… an avatar of a Greek god. But there might be problems. But they didn’t seem to be too worried. I wondered what happened to this Erin. They showed me a picture of her: she was very pretty. She reminded me of Charlize Theron, but in the movie Atomic Blonde, or in that old movie Aeon Flux. She was pretty, but she looked tough at the same time. Sort of like a cross between a young Margot Robie and David Bowie.

In the end, though, temptation won. I looked at Mr. Daimon and nodded. Ma would have probably asked for time to think about it, but Dad always said I made too many rash decisions. However, I’ve always argued that most of my decisions turned out right in the end. I hoped that this decision would turn out right, too.

Mr. Daimon smiled. “Excellent!” he said, and beamed at me, totally delighted. He picked up his desk phone’s handset “It’s quite late already,” he said to me. “I’m sure you must be hungry by now.” He punched a number. “Yes, please bring in the food,” he said into his handset. “Yes. Of course the Cokes, too.”

After a few moments, one of the cafeteria people came in bringing a tray. On it were a couple of Big Macs, large Cokes, and fries.

“Sorry, Val,” He apologized. “The cafeteria’s closed already. I’m afraid dinner’s going to be fast food take-out.”

I shrugged. “I don’t mind,” I said and reached for one of the burgers and the soda. The burger wasn’t too warm, though, as were the fries – not exactly fresh. But the Coke was cold and chock full of ice – just the way I liked it.

As we ate, I quizzed him some more. And he told me some more about the transformations that the kids have gone through. Apparently, general physical improvements were about it: nothing major, as he said.

I asked him how many graduates have there already been, and if all of them had taken the… “food of the gods.” He did some computations – with a graduating class of fifty per school per year, and they’ve been operating for more than thirty years already… “We have a little under eighty thousand graduates by now,” he said. “Eighty thousand five hundred by next graduation, with only less than a thousand having missed transforming.”

Oh, my god, I thought – eighty thousand…

“And none of them know?”

“You’re the only one who does. Plus, the teachers, and school and endowment staff, of course.”

“What happens to them after? Do you, like breed them? Make them have babies together?”

“Of course not!” he said indignantly. “We’re also not out to create a race of gods! We’re not nazis!”

“So then what happens?”

“They’re free to live their lives, free of any interference from us.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“The point is to understand all this, and maybe find a mechanism that will allow all humans to benefit from it, regardless of their ancestry. We’ve tried a few times – there were a few programs that we tried: we had a lab in Sweden plus one in the midwest, but we shut down the Sweden lab because we were getting very minimal results. The point is, we need to understand this better before we try another one.”

“Wow.”

Mr. Daimon shrugged.

He then talked about the other nine schools, and, from his descriptions, they sounded just like Delos. I asked what would happen to me after graduation.

“Well, graduates are given a 100% scholarship to any college of their choosing, but more than ninety percent of our graduates don’t opt for the scholarships and just ask for the fifteen thousand-dollar academic grant instead - you see, those who don’t opt for a scholarship would be given a one-time so-called ‘academic grant’ – a lump sum of fifteen thousand. For those that take the scholarships, they’d be under tabs for the duration of their college life, or at least four years if they opted for the grant, to allow us to watch out for… ‘unusual things.’ After that, they’re free to do do anything they want, free of any surveillance or interference from us.”

“But why? I can imagine it would be incredibly expensive.”

“Yes, but imagine there’d be thousands of enhanced humans out in the world, and they’d be having kids and families, and their families will have families. Maybe in the near future, cancer and COVID and heart disease and diabetes and multiple sclerosis and alzheimers and thousands of other diseases will be things of the past… Just imagine.”

I looked at him in silence. His dream was wonderful, indeed…

I cleared my throat. “For myself, though, I think I’d probably opt for the scholarship…”

He looked at me. And after a beat, we both laughed.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 3: Afterwards

 

Dinner

After our long talk and a couple of burgers, fries, and Cokes, Mr. Daimon and I shook hands, and he said to keep everything we’ve talked about to myself, even with my family. But then, how would he find out if I didn’t? And then I thought it over again and reconsidered. I thought he’d be able to find out if I did or didn’t somehow.

But then I thought, why should I keep it to myself?

I thought it through: if the authorities did get wind of what the Aristotle Endowment really was, and what Delos High School, and the other schools, were about, if they believed it, they’d probably think it was crazy and they’d shut down the schools. I’ve seen enough Marvel and DC superhero movies to understand this, so I gave my solemn promise that I wouldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone.

I walked out of his office, and then out of the school. It was already getting dark. I looked at my watch and was surprised to find out that it was already close to ten. The school parking lot was already mostly empty – my old second-hand five-year-old Jeep Renegade was one of the few cars left in the lot. I got in and drove home.

When I arrived home, Mom and Dad were just sitting down to dinner. They evidently waited up for me.

“Hey, champ,” Dad said. And Ma stood up and gave me a kiss and a hug.

“We’re just about to start,” she said. “How about a bite?”

“Hey, Ma,” I said. “I just ate. Mr. Daimon, the vice-principal, and I ate in his office.”

“Everything okay?” Dad asked. “The school called and said you were with the vice principal. What was that about?”

I shrugged. “It was nothing.”

“If you’re not eating, sit down at least, and tell us what happened.”

“I’ll get you some dessert, at least,” Ma said and went to the kitchen counter to fetch it.

I wracked my brain to invent something to tell and sat down.

“Really, Dad, it was nothing,” I said. “Mr. Daimon just wanted to ask me how my SAT practice exams were going and what colleges I was contemplating.”

“Ahhh. For a moment, Mom and I were worried.”

Ma came back with a generous slice of jello. An aside here – jello was my all-time favorite dessert, and, in our house, jello was a regular fixture. My favorite flavor was Strawberry Jell-O. Ma’s favorite flavor was “green.” Lol. What Ma brought, though, was mango jello with chunks of pineapple.

I took a big spoonful of the jello in my mouth and gave Ma a kiss of appreciation and thanks.

“So, what did you tell him,” Dad asked.

“Well, I said I aced the first couple of SAT practice exams that Ms. Minerva, our school counselor, scheduled for our class, and I’m scheduled for another one next month.” I shrugged. “The teachers are really concerned about keeping the school’s SAT averages up.”

“It’s great that you aced your practice SATs, son.”

“As for college – well, I don’t have any ideas yet. I guess it would depend on what I’d be majoring in. But I haven’t decided that yet.”

And it was an easy kind of dinner – the usual kind. Maybe it would sound a bit boring for some. For me, I grew up with it, and I guess I like it. My folks and I were very interested in each other’s goings-on, even mundane stuff, and I liked that a lot. I guess, for me, it just meant that we were really invested in each other and that we loved each other.

I know, right? Pretty boring. Lol.

Thank god the dinner conversation moved on – I was running out of lies. Dad told us all about his day – he was a lawyer for a small but upcoming law firm (that was how he described the law firm he worked for – “small-but-upcoming”) and Ma told us about her day as the day-shift floor manager at her bank.

Scholarship

Their jobs were fairly new: because Ma’s bank was willing to move her to the Chicago branch while Dad got wind of a job also in Chicago, and it was getting increasingly awkward for me at my school in DC, the family decided that I should accept the scholarship at Delos, and we, as a family, would relocate from DC to Chicago. And if this gave me a shot at a full college scholarship, then it would all be worth it.

We moved into a nice suburban house Dad found. It was in a small, gated community several miles from my new school. This justified my folks getting me my own car, which was totally fine by me, lol, and with Ma’s help, I was able to find my five-year-old Jeep Renegade. Ma then started setting up house, but it was slow going because my folks were busy settling into their new jobs, and I was settling into my new school. Nevertheless, within a month, we had started feeling at home.

The three of us were missing our old lives and friends in DC, but as we got used to things, it slowly became better. And by now, we were doing okay, except for me – my old troubles from back home seemed to be starting up again – I don’t know why. But I wouldn’t be telling Ma and Dad this. Nevertheless, I was finding some good friends, particularly Carla – a simply gorgeous Filipino-American girl who seemed to have decided to make me her project, and Michael - a big six-foot-six jock that we found hanging around Carla and me all the time.

Anyway. Our dinner conversation wasn’t anything spectacular, and though I was dying to tell them everything I was just told, I didn’t.

Nice, boring stories of middle-management life to go with my humdrum high school stories (I also didn’t tell them about my troubles. I didn’t want to worry them.)

After dinner, and washing and drying the dishes, Dad and I had at it on the Xbox. As usual, I beat the pants off my old man, but I usually did. Over the years, I had developed a sneaking suspicion that he always let me win given how often I did. Well, almost always. Lol.

I then went upstairs to my room, changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt, and quickly finished up whatever homework I had. Nowadays, homework seemed to be pretty easy for some reason. I missed my afternoon classes, but I doubted I’d be in any kind of trouble if I missed doing any assignments for them. As I was finishing, Ma came up and knocked on my door with yet another helping of jello. She usually did that when she sensed something wrong. But that’s a mother’s prerogative, I guess.

After I spent several minutes assuring her that nothing was wrong, she mussed my hair, kissed me on the cheek, and wished me good night.

Googling

When she left, I went to my desk in the corner of my room, turned on my PC, and did some googling. And of all that Mr. Daimon said earlier – there wasn’t a trace of any of it over the internet, although there was a lot of material about the Aristotle Endowment, the scholarships, and the schools. I wonder who was behind the Endowment. Whoever they were, they were filthy rich. Imagine all the scholarships… I popped up the calculator on the screen and did some computations. Assume that the government spent fifteen thousand per year per high school student… And there were only twenty-five students per class, with two classes per year… and there were Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, Senior years… and there were ten schools… And assume a yearly college scholarship grant of fifteen thousand per kid for a four-year undergraduate course, and assume ten percent of the kids from each graduating class availed of their scholarships, while the rest just took a fifteen thousand one-time grant… that was just a little less than forty million per year… wow… Make it fifty million in case some of the kids picked really expensive colleges.

Fifty million… It makes you wonder who would be willing to spend fifty million per year just to give kids scholarships. And I was sure I was underestimating it.

I shelved that for now and continued my research.

I googled the monasteries Mr. Daimon mentioned, and they turned out to be real places, and, yes, the monasteries – the old and the new - were also repositories for a lot of ancient Greek artifacts and relics. As for the Kodikos tablets and the Golden Theory plates, there were a few sketchy articles in some questionable sites. The sites used a lot of footage from the History Channel’s Ancient Aliens, as well as a mishmash of clips from lots of Discovery Channel programs. … best to ignore these sources, then.

I then tried to find a story that matched the one on the Golden Theory plates. But I was either not too good with Google, or there was no such story.

I then googled Dr. Hephaestus from the Human Genome Project, and, per several newspaper articles cited by several news sites, there was such a person – who supposedly died in a tragic car accident. I read through his biodata, and it confirmed he was one of the senior people in the project. And before joining the project, he did indeed work with the NIH.

His name was unusual, to say the least – a name that harkened to Greek mythology. Maybe that was why he became an archeology buff, with a heavy interest in ancient Greek artifacts, history, and mythology.
The, quote, coincidence that the Golden Theory… fable, and the one who translated the Kodikos were both named “Hephaestus” – still sounded fishy to me. But I couldn’t unearth other facts about it (to be fair, I didn’t unearth much). So Mr. Daimon may be right that it was just a coincidence. Coincidence, my godlike powers! … heheheheh.

That I may be… godlike – wow! But Mr. Daimon said it wasn’t too big a thing. Just some general upgrades – not like in the comic books. But I’m glad I won’t have problems with viruses or diseases or cancer anymore… But he also said I scored 100. One hundred percent match. Does that mean I’m not just “like” a Greek god, but am an actual Greek god? It was both scary and… well, I don’t really know what to feel. Mr. Daimon said they didn’t know the implications of someone scoring 100 – a 100% match. A little scary that they didn’t know. The other kids only ever scored 50.

I did a bit more googling. IRL, the DNA of siblings had a 50 or so percent match. If I had known that fact earlier, I could have asked Mr. Daimon, does that make us like brothers and sisters of gods? Genetically, I mean, hehe. Maybe half-brothers and -sisters. I remembered the word “demigod”- would a score of 50 make them like demigods? Like Perseus or Hercules?

Anyway, everything I found on the internet, or didn’t find, dovetailed, and I found myself fully believing Mr. Daimon.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep that night.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 4: A Cool Change

 

Radio Alarm

The radio woke me up. Six AM, as usual. My bedside clock was an old clock radio, and I had it tuned to 94.7 WLS-FM – “Chicago’s Classic Hits,” and, it played mostly rock, pop, and dance music from the eighties nonstop – my favorite music era was the eighties. I guess I was infected by my dad’s tastes in music. He and Ma were in their forties – they had me when they were in their mid-twenties, so Dad’s favorite music was eighties music. Back home in our old house in DC, my clock was tuned in to 94.7 FM as well, but in DC, 94.7 was WIAD-FM, “94.7 The Drive.” When we moved to Chicago, I didn’t even need to hunt around for a different station.

Anyway, it turned out I was indeed able to fall asleep last night. But given how tired I felt, I guess I fell asleep late and whatever sleep I got wasn’t really good.

An old song by the Little River Band, “A Cool Change,” played on my radio. Good thing, since it wasn’t that loud a song, I woke up a little less violently than I would have otherwise.

I listened to the refrain. It went, “Time for a cool change - I know that it's time for a cool change. And now that my life is so prearranged, I know that it's time for a cool change.”

That sounded very appropriate. And my impending “transformation” would be a cool change, and in many ways, my life was now somewhat prearranged at that.

I took a few moments to just think a little bit about yesterday, and just laid there in my bed for a while, staring at the ceiling. But the day chased me from my bed. I turned off the clock radio and got up. I yawned bone-crackingly, got out a towel, and padded to the bathroom. There were three bathrooms in the new house – a welcome change from our old house, which only had one. So the three of us didn’t have to fight for bathroom time.

Ma was already up and was already preparing breakfast (meaning she’d already had her shower) – she’s really big on having a proper breakfast to start the day right, so she’d always wake up ahead of us. She was already cooking up what smelled like bacon. I also heard Dad’s shower going. That means I’m the last one up again…

Still, I didn’t want to be late, so I rushed to the bathroom. With my car, though, and even with the typical morning Chicago traffic, I’ll probably not be late. Still, I hurried.

I had to whiz pretty bad so the first thing I did when I got to my bathroom (or more properly the guest bathroom) was to go to the toilet and pull down my pants. But when I let go, I didn’t hear the telltale sound of water hitting water, and instead felt warm liquid squirt from, and trickle down between my legs.

“Yah!” I reacted involuntarily. I looked down. Where’s my dick?

Keeping Mum

I was very subdued through breakfast. Ma commented on it but I just shrugged.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Is the food okay?” she worried.

“It’s great, Ma,” I said and made a show of getting a piece of bacon and crunching it in my mouth, and then grinning.

Ma smiled. “Gross, Val,” she said.

I couldn’t really tell Ma and Dad about what happened in the bathroom because I was ninety-nine point nine-nine percent sure this was connected to my impending transformation. But then I haven’t been given the treatment yet – I mean, the “food of the gods” thing. So why this? And why this kind of transformation? Was this what Mr. Daimon was afraid of?

Anyway, I gotta talk to him first thing today.

And though I was trying to sound un-freaked, even if just inside my head, I was just on this side of actually losing it. I was scared out of my mind, literally. What was this shit about?

After peeing down my legs, I used the shower wand to rinse my groin and legs (I shivered a bit as the cold water hit unfamiliar places in my crotch, but it was more out of the new sensation of it than anything). I also rinsed my sweatpants, wrung them dry as best I could, and left them hanging on the shower curtain rod. I’ll just tell Ma later that the pants fell in the water.

After a verrry quick shower, with just a token wash down there (I was scared to touch things there), I dried myself with my big towel and examined myself, especially down there. As far as I could tell, I had girl parts now, but the rest of me – they’re still the same. I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel… down there, but I didn’t want to touch it, at least not yet. So toilet, showered, brushed my teeth (I checked and there was no need for a shave yet) and I finger-combed my shoulder-length hair. I then rushed to my room and got dressed.

I was extremely aware of my underwear as I got dressed, and I fancied that my briefs were a little loose down there. Probably just in my mind. But I deliberately didn’t make any changes at all to what I intended to wear. For example, I just wore my regular underwear instead of a tighter swimsuit. From the outside, I looked just like I always did, I’m sure, but I was worried that my folks could see something different.

We finished breakfast, and then the three of us left to start our day. I waved as my Ma and Dad drove away to work, and I got in my jeep and drove away, too.

When I got to school, I went directly to Mr. Daimon’s office, and I caught him just leaving his office for a class.

“Sir,” I said, “I need to talk to you.”

“I’m a little busy now, Val,” he said. “I got a class in a few minutes. Shouldn’t you be getting to class, too? Ms. Cleo’s not gonna be happy.”

“It’s an emergency, Mr. Daimon,” I said.

He saw the expression on my face and decided. He brought out his phone. “Phoebe?” he said into the phone, “sorry for the short notice. Please find a substitute for my classes for the day. I have an emergency that I must take care of.” He gave me a look. “Also, please ask Dr. Griffin to meet me at my office, and tell Ms. Cleo that one of her homeroom students, Mr. Val Goodchilde, is with me. He’ll be in class as soon as we’re done with our meeting. I’ll give him a hall pass so he can go straight to class. Got all that? Thanks.”

He unlocked his office and ushered me in. He put away his briefcase, gestured to the chair I sat in just yesterday, and sat at his metal desk.

I sat as well, but before we could start, we heard the running clack-clack of heels out in the hallway. Someone knocked on Mr. Daimon’s door, and Dr. Griffin, the school doctor, rushed in.

Griffin was puffing, winded. “So?”

Mr. Daimon nodded to me. “Dr. Griffin, I’d like you to meet Val Goodchilde.”

She paused and looked at me, still puffing. “He’s the one?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Amazing,” she said and looked at me with interest. I felt like a side of beef being checked out by a tiger or lion.

“Amazing?” I asked. Does she know? I worried. “Why amazing?”

“Amazing that we have a student that scored 100,” she said. “Amazing…” She turned to Mr. Daimon. “Which code?”

“Number two,” the vice-principal said.

“Really…” she said in wonder. “Would he be like Erin?”

“I don’t know yet. I just did it last night. We won’t know yet, at least for a while.”

“But it’s confirmed? Number two?”

“Here,” the vice principal said and handed her his laptop. “Confirm it yourself.”

She opened the computer and logged on.

“Hey!” I said. “Stop that! Don’t talk around me! Talk to me!”

“I’m sorry, Val,” Mr. Daimon said and made a patting-down, placating gesture. “You said an emergency?”

“Well…” I suddenly became reluctant.

“It’s all right, Val. You can trust us.”

After much cajoling, I was able to tell them what happened.

The first thing that they did was that Dr. Griffin had me taken to the school clinic, and a full physical was done on me.

Maps

After several hours, Dr. Griffin said that, based on the tests, I was now actually fully female. A surprise, to say the least, especially when just yesterday, I was a guy. Clearly, something happened yesterday. What that was, I didn’t know.

And if I was female now, it wasn’t too obvious. I was the most flat-chested girl I knew, and at best my body dimensions could charitably be described as homely: my body was still androgynous – not too much muscular definition yet – still boyish, meaning someone looking at me might say I was a prepubescent girl. But my face had many feminine aspects. When I looked at my face in the mirror above the hand sink in the school’s clinic, I would say I was a cute girl. A very cute girl, actually. It’s funny that I never noticed that before – nothing’s changed, but I was just noticing that my looks were feminine. Maybe that explained the… attraction the boys had for me. Although girls seemed to be attracted to me, too. As a guy, I could understand how the boys felt even if I didn’t like it, but I didn’t understand the girl thing. I walked back to the examination table and hopped back on it.

Dr. Griffin looked at me appraisingly. “Despite appearances, “she said as she gestured to my chest, “You really are a girl now, physically speaking.” Even though my figure was as straight and as flat as a plank at the moment, I imagined her saying. “But your figure would eventually change into more traditionally feminine lines; and though you now have a AAA bra size, this would also change as well. Tell me, would you know what your mom’s breast size was?”

I embarrassedly said my ma had D-sized breasts.

“Well,” she said, “As you mature, you will probably have breasts of a similar size.”

Uh-oh…

Dr. Griffin then said that my spontaneous sex change was most definitely connected with my transformation. But they didn’t understand how.

“How can you be sure?” I asked.

“We’re sure it because of our experience with Erin Smith.”

“This was the girl from the Melbourne school that scored 85?”

“Yes. She also experienced a spontaneous sex change.”

I looked at them. “Is she okay now? How did she handle changing into a girl?”

“You mistake what I’m saying, Val. Erin changed from a girl to a guy…”

“What!”

“The good thing was that her name was a unisex kind of name, so that was at least one less thing to worry about, and her folks were able to change her papers legally and easily.”

“Erin is a unisex name?”

“Yes, it is. Just like Val is a unisex name.”

“Nope,” I said. “Val is a guy's name. You know? Like Val Kilmer? Val Morrison? Val Walker?”

“Who’s Val Morrison? Or do you mean Jim Morrison?”

“No – Val Morrison. He’s a famous actor.”

“Apparently not that famous,” she laughed. “And Val Walker?”

“A famous magician.”

“If you say so,” she grinned.

“So Erin just started changing into a boy all on her own?”

“Well, only after she got some ambrosia.”

“Ambrosia…”

“Surely Mr. Daimon explained about the ‘food of the gods?’”

“I haven’t had it yet…”

“Huh? You haven’t?”

“Actually, Val,” Mr. Daimon said, “You did… Yesterday.”

“But I never got an injection, or pill or anything like that…”

“I never said it came in pills or injections. Do you remember you had a Coke with your burger yesterday?”

I looked at him with my mouth hanging open.

Coca Cola

“You tricked me!”

“No, I didn’t. You gave permission.”

“How did you get it in the soda?”

“The food of the gods,” he said and brought out a little squeeze bottle with an eyedropper. “I laced your Coke. Give me your finger.”

I gamely proffered my finger, and he put a little drop of the ambrosia, or the “Food of the Gods” on it.

“Bottom’s up!”

“Won’t it be bad if I…”

“Nope – you’ve already had some. More won’t make a difference.”

“Okay.” I stuck my finger in my mouth. The ambrosia was pretty good, but not as good as what I imagined “ambrosia” should be. It looked like honey but it was thicker – just this side of the consistency of jello. It also tasted mostly like honey as well, but with a touch of caramel and what tasted like thick buttercream.

“Can I have some more?” I said.

Mr. Daimon laughed and was about to put some on my finger again, but Dr. Griffin stopped us. She got out a small medicine spoon and it allowed me to have a lot of it this time. Mr. Daimon squeezed the jelly-like syrup onto the spoon, and it made a lump like a heaping spoonful of sugar, or maybe molasses. He handed the spoon to me and I popped the jelly-syrup into my mouth. And with that quantity in my mouth, it felt like eating a Kraft Caramels cube, but one that melted in my mouth.

“You know,” I said, “if this wasn’t ambrosia, this would be good to put on a graham cracker.”

Mr. Daimon and Dr. Griffin looked at each other and chuckled. “We actually do that a lot,” Mr. Daimon said.

“What! You use ambrosia like it was a sandwich spread?!”

“Ambrosia isn’t all that difficult to make. You can make some from your kitchen using common ingredients. It’s the recipe that’s the key, but if you know how, it’s actually easy to make.”

“Where’d you get the recipe?”

“Where else? It was on the plates.”

“What happens when…”

“When regular folks have some ambrosia? Nothing at all. It would only have an effect for people who score 50 or above, and it will only work if the person is between fourteen and eighteen, and only if they haven’t had some before, and that was a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“We didn’t know these things coming in, and only found this out by trial and error.”

“Imagine the problem,” Dr. Griffin said. “Firstly, we had to locate people that have high scores, which was no small feat. And then only after finding them could we give them the ambrosia. And it was only through trial and error that we found the magic window of age fourteen to eighteen, on average. It doesn’t matter for the older people since they’re already lost to us, but if we give it to kids that are too young, then we do lose them: if they had some too early, then they couldn’t transform anymore.”

“Earlier in the program, in the nineties, we had this naive idea of giving out ambrosia to the general public and assumed we would transform candidates without having to screen people. But we didn’t know about the age conversion window.

“In Sweden, for example, we marketed our version of kanelbullar – those are Swedish cinnamon rolls.

“Our rolls were laced, of course. And it became very popular. We weren’t surprised by that, of course - Ambrosia was pretty delicious - and we made a tidy profit from them. But after a year of production and distribution in the country, our numbers showed we were only able to get a hundred transformations, and we basically wiped out any other potential transformations: we lost the five million kids out there below the age of fourteen that were potential converts…”

“Five million?”

“That’s an exaggeration. From the data we gathered later, we estimate that there were around fifty thousand potential transformees from the five million kids in Sweden.”

“So,” Dr. Griffin said, “with the information we now have, we changed our strategy to screen people first, gather potential candidates within that age window together, initiate transformation, and then observe and test them afterward.”

That made me pause for a while, thinking that through. “So…,” I finally said, bringing us back to my situation, “is a sex change part of the transformation?”

“Not really,” Mr. Daimon said. “So far, it’s only been you and Erin.”

“So if a sex change isn’t ‘standard’ to the transformation, why did it happen to me?”

Dr. Griffin has a theory. Doctor?”

“Val,” the doctor said, “I think what happened to Erin was because of which Kodikos map she was matched with, coupled with her high score.”

“Which was?”

“She had an eighty-five percent match to the ninth Kodikos map.”

“Whose map was the ninth map?”

“That one was the DNA map for Ares.”

“Okay… If I remember right, Ares is Mars, the god of war.”

“That’s correct.”

“So I’m a match for the Ares map, then?”

“No.”

“But if I’m not a match for the Ares map…?”

“Ares was a male god…”

That made me pause again. “You mean, because Ares was a guy, Erin got turned into a guy?”

Dr. Griffin nodded.

“But what about the other transformees? Didn’t you get other transformees that had mismatched…”

“Well, we do get lots of gender mismatches – a girl matched to a boy-god’s map, and a boy matched to a girl map. Three of the Kodikos maps were female maps, so we have lots of boys that matched up with these female maps and lots of girls that matched up with male maps. But no gender changes. The only difference that you and Erin had was that you two had high scores.”

“Oh…”

Dr. Griffin reached out for my hand. “I’m sorry Val.”

I thought a bit. “You said there were three female maps. Which ones?”

“There’s the last map: it’s of Metis, the Titan goddess of cunning and wisdom; there’s the eighth - Mnemosyne, the Titan goddess of memory; and there’s the second map – Aphrodite.”

“… So, which was my match?”

“I thought Mr. Daimon would have told you already. Your match was the second one – the map of -,”

“…Aphrodite,” I said.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 5: What's Next

 

Intersexed

My mind was spinning. Well, figuratively speaking, I mean. It was already near lunchtime, and I was glad we were almost through with the testing and the talking. I could do with a break from thinking about this.

Mr. Daimon and Dr. Griffin seemed to know what I was feeling, and Mr. Daimon said I should focus on the current situation for now.

It helped a lot, and we were able to plan for things with clearer heads.

After a long chat in Mr. Daimon’s office to hash out the situation, we agreed that the biggest thing was that my gender change would leak eventually, and I was all for pre-empting the problem. Dr. Griffin’s suggestion was the only one we thought was halfway workable. She said that we should say I was intersexed, specifically the version that used to be called Female Pseudohermaphroditis - a kind of intersex condition where a genetic female had external genitals that appeared male.

So the plan was for Dr. Griffin and Mr. Daimon to call my folks, tell them my supposed condition, and that what should be done was to perform an operation to align my genitals to my genes.

As for the student body, they’ll also be told the same story. That part of the plan was wrought with trouble. I knew the kind of bullying and abuse I’d be in for, but the only other thing I could do was to transfer schools. And could I even do that? I would be disappointing my folks terribly. We moved like seven hundred miles for me, and for a chance at a college scholarship. They changed jobs and left family and friends back home, all for me. And if I was to stay at Delos, at least there was only a little over a month remaining for the semester. That meant school would be out soon. That could only be a good thing, allowing me to save on some abuse.

Reluctantly, I agreed to the plan. Dr. Griffin gave me a hug, and Mr. Daimon shook my hand.

“I think you’re doing the right thing, Val,” he said. “And it’s the brave thing to do.” He shook my hand. “Let me write you a pass so you can go back to class.”

“Mr. Daimon…” I said, “I was wondering… would it be possible for me to not go to class today? I don’t know if I could face class right now…”

Mr. Daimon nodded. “I understand.” He got out a pad and wrote on it. He tore off the top sheet and gave it to me. “Here. Show this to anyone who asks. This is your pass for the day. And, later, around three, I’ll give your folks a call. Can you give me their numbers?”

I wrote their cell phone and office numbers on a pad.

“Thanks. Be sure to be back home around that time so your folks won’t worry. And here’s my card in case you need to talk or whatever.”

“Thanks, Mr. Daimon; Dr. Griffin. I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.”

Playing Hooky

So I texted Carla and Michael and told them I was going home.

“Dude,” Michael texted back, “don’t do it. You’re gonna regret it tomorrow. Detention ain’t fun.”

“Not playing hooky,” I texted Michael back, sending Carla the same message. “Got a pass. I’m just going home.”

“You feeling okay, Val?” Carla texted while Michael sent “What’s up? What happened?”

“Got some news. Medical thing. I just don’t feel like going to class.”

“What is it?” Carla responded.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. See ya later.”

I was pleased my two closest friends in Delos were concerned for me, but I couldn’t take that concern at the moment, so I turned off my phone’s ringer. I’ll make it up to them later.

I didn’t know what to do, but I definitely wanted to stop thinking about it. I decided to go to a mall or something. I went over to North Bridge mall, and went to the food court for lunch. I didn’t know Chicago as well as I liked. After all, my folks and I have been in town for less than eight months. And this mall was one of the few I knew in town.

Every time I went to North Bridge, I felt like the mall was becoming more and more empty. I guess the decreasing popularity of malls was true here as well. Still, there was enough of a selection of stores that made the mall a decent enough place to hang. But first things first – lunch.

At the food court, I ended up going to a restaurant called Aloha Poke Co. Their gimmick was you made your own bowl made up of the ingredients they had with a Hawaiian kind of flavor. Needless to say, I got their biggest bowl – the Big Kahuna – and picked my own ingredients.

Given the time of day – just before lunch - there weren’t too many people in the food court, so I had lots of choices for tables. Before starting, though, I turned on my phone and texted my folks.

“Hi, Ma and Dad,” I texted them instead of calling, and deliberately texting in full words and sentences – Ma doesn’t like it when I abbreviate - “got some news at school. Mr. Daimon, the vice-principal, or the school doctor will call you later to explain. Vice-principal gave me a pass for the rest of the day – couldn’t face classes today. Anyway, just hanging out at the mall, etc. Will see you guys at home later. Love you.”

I kept my phone’s ringer off. I couldn’t face having to talk to them as well.

Women’s Sizes; Acting Over Being

My Big Kahuna bowl was great, but I couldn’t finish it all. That surprised me. I guess I just wasn’t that hungry. I was really thirsty, though, and bought a bottle of water after I finished off my large Coke.

As I was eating, I thought about school, and what I would do after my supposed intersexed condition became known. Should I just adopt being a girl? And should I go all the way? That troubled me a bit, but it was something to consider if I were to live with this.

I couldn’t imagine what I’d really be like as a girl, and if my tastes and behavior would change in any substantial way. And if I’d start liking boys. I don’t think I ever would, but it’s more important to appear like a girl, rather than be a girl. At least for now. For now, it was just about being accepted. Long term wasn’t important right now. It’s all about acting> like a girl than being a girl.

So. Let’s just stick to looks. And that meant clothes. Clothes were the biggest factor in being accepted, after all, at least in school. And for girls, this included makeup and hairstyles.

I chided myself for my seeming naivete about girls, but then I was a guy, so I couldn’t help it. Sound like a thin justification, but my pride would take any justification it could.

And I thought what it meant to “go all the way” to look like a girl. But then maybe “all the way” wasn’t the thing to do. I thought of the girls that I knew in school and tried to recall what they usually wore. Carla, for example, was one of the prettiest in school, and always looked great. But she wasn’t really going too over-the-top. Her day-to-day outfits were always great, but not over-the-top.

I remembered what I saw in the mirror in the clinic, and I thought I looked enough like a girl that I could, maybe, pass for one. But I definitely would need some assistance… Maybe I should try it out before Ma and Dad get home? And if it doesn’t work, I wonder if I would need plastic surgery or something to pass. And would Mr. Daimon agree to that.

So I decided to try. Guess this was yet another of my rash decisions.

So, where to buy an outfit?

I decided on Nordstrom, so after a short walk and a little bit of exploring, I was at the women’s clothing section. I looked over the selection they had, but didn’t really know what to pick. Then I saw an advertising poster and now had a picture of what to pick. Another rash decision? Yep.

What I apparently had decided on was a gray pullover turtleneck sweater and a pair of what I found later were black opaque thermal tights. I originally thought they were girl’s slim-fit jeans, but they turned out to be tights. But I didn’t want to stick around too long in the women’s section just to fix my mistake so I just took them and quickly walked to the cash register with my selection. The sales girl suggested some underwear as well, so I just grabbed the pair she had in her hand, randomly grabbed something from a nearby shelf of packaged bras, and paid for my clothes. I hoped I wasn’t too rude.

I then left Nordstrom, but then I stopped just outside the store. I, apparently, didn’t think it through, so I decided to look for a restroom. Walking around North Bridge, I finally found a women’s restroom, and sure enough, there was a nearby men’s room.

No one was inside so I had the pick of all the stalls. I picked the farthest one, of course, and hurried in. Thank god the mall’s restrooms were clean… But as I was tearing open the packaging of my new duds, I realized a few problems…

First, I didn’t buy shoes and socks.

But I was wearing combat boots so that should be okay since girls wear combat boots, and, sure enough, the tights I got were what were called “footed tights” – these tights feature a fully covered foot that gives a seamless look in shoes. So that solves the shoes and socks problem.

Second was the sizes of the stuff I bought. I never thought to think about sizes. My clothes sizes were mostly medium so, without thinking, I unthinkingly picked medium sizes for the stuff I just bought. I would learn later that there was about a three-inch average difference between US men’s sizes and US women’s sizes. For example, A men's medium was 38-40 inches in the chest and 30-32 in the waist, while a women's medium was 36-38 in the bust and 29-30 in the waist: I ended up getting clothes way too small for me.

So after I took off my shirt, shorts, pants, boots and socks, I found that I needed to squeeze into my new, too-small clothes. Thank god most women’s clothes had a lot of stretch to them.

Third was the bra. What I ended up getting was also a medium bra - a 36B. However, with bras, the straps didn’t stretch much. I sat on the toilet and studied the bra a little bit. Eventually, I figured it enough to be able to adjust the straps to their maximum. With the straps adjusted to their very end in their little buckles, I ended up loosening them enough to allow me to strap them around my chest, although I suspect the bra was a little too high on the chest than normal. Well, at least I’ll have perky boobs. Lol.

Fourth was that the bra would collapse underneath my clothes. So I got lots of toilet paper and stuffed the bra cups.

There – with my boots, I was now in my new girl duds.

I stuffed my boy clothes into my backpack, and then listened for other people in the restroom. Not hearing anyone, I snuck out of the men’s room and then rushed to the nearby ladies’ where I could finish my change.

There were a couple of girls inside the ladies’, primping in front of the mirrors, so I rushed into the first empty stall I found to avoid them.

I breathed heavily, worried – I was afraid the girls outside knew I was a guy, but after a few minutes, not hearing any indignant exclamations, I knew they didn’t. I stayed in my stall and waited for the girls to leave, and when they left, I gingerly stepped out of my stall and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Not bad, I thought. I noticed I didn’t have any makeup on as well as any earrings. Yet another mistake. But then it’s not as if I knew how to apply makeup. At least the oversight didn’t make me stand out too much.

I decided to wash my face with the fruity-smelling hand soap from the dispenser - I had to go for the well-scrubbed look - and wetted my hair down just enough to take out the wavy-messy curls of my shoulder-length hair. I took my comb from my jeans’ pocket (my jeans were in my backpack) and combed it through my damp hair until I had what looked like straight hair combed straight back making it look sleek, shiny and stylish. To my boy’s eyes at least.

I also combed my hair over my ears so that my earring-less lobes would be hidden, and I guess that was it.

As I was putting the final touches on my new look, a couple of other girls came in and went straight for the mirrors. They smiled at me politely, and I smiled back. They continued chatting as I continued fiddling with my hair. Just like nothing was wrong.

One of the girls went to the booths and pretty soon, I heard water hitting porcelain. And in a while the other girl went in as well.

So far, so good, I thought. I decided to leave and walk around to give my look the acid test.

I casually shouldered my backpack over one shoulder, smiled into the mirror “Not bad,” I said to the girl in the mirror – she was actually pretty cute. And then I stepped back into the mall.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 6: Friendly Strangers

 

The experiment

I walked around inside the mall, and on the sidewalk just outside the mall, but I avoided Nordstrom on the possibility of someone there recognizing me.

Putting on my nerd hat, I parsed out the purpose of this experiment. Clearly, there were two objectives: one was to see if I could pass, and the second was to see if I could be comfortable being a girl. I was just on the edge, but I pushed on.

And it seemed the experiment was successful on both counts so far: as I walked, no one took notice of me, or rather no one reacted badly: to my newbie eyes, I thought I got lots of attention actually, but all of them seemed to be friendly, especially the attention from the boys. But I rationalized that it might just be me wishing that everything would be okay, so that’s how I perceived things to be. Still, I thought I was doing fine. It was even a bit fun, given all the attention. I also decided I was out of my mind…

I tried not to speak, though, since my voice might be too masculine, but I had to reply to this old lady who asked for directions to the food court.

“Just walk straight down this way, ma’am,” I gestured. “Keep to the right and you’ll see some signs. Follow them and you won’t get lost.”

“Thank you, young lady,” she said. “You’re very kind.” And she walked away in the direction that I pointed. No bad reactions - it was lucky she wasn’t paying attention to my voice, I reasoned, but more to the directions I gave.

I found that I had to slow down my pace – I suspected I looked too nervous or agitated or something as I walked around. Which I was. But I might catch the bad kind of attention, especially from the mall cops. So I stopped for a moment, listened to my slightly pounding heart, and tried to calm myself down. I forced myself to walk at a more normal pace, and though I wasn’t completely calm, at least I could fake it.

I tried to adopt the persona of a girl window-shopping. That way, my random walkabout wouldn’t look aimless. So, therefore, I would need to browse in stores and such and look at girl-type things (since I was a girl). It’d be more practice for me, at least, which was something I’d need.

In some stores, I only bumped into a few kids my age, but then I didn’t expect to see many - most of them would be in school, after all. Speaking of which…

An older gentleman who was in one of the stores I went to noticed me.

“Young lady, shouldn’t you be in school?” he said.

I looked at him, ducked my head in embarrassment, and mumbled a response.

“Speak up!” he said impatiently.

I cleared my throat. “I said I got excused from classes today…”

“I don’t believe you,” he said and started looking around, presumably for someone in authority.

I reached into a side pocket of my backpack, brought out the folded note Mr. Daimon gave me, and held it out.

The man reached for it, read the note, folded it back and returned it to me.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” he said, contritely. “Please excuse me. It wasn’t my business.”

I gave him a shrug.

“Are you okay?” He asked. He noticed my agitation.

“More or less,” I said noncommittally.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll get better. Enjoy the rest of your day, my dear.”

He gave me a friendly smile, nodded, and walked away.

Well…

I never bothered to look at the note before so I unfolded it.

“This excuses Ms Val Goodchilde from classes today due to a medical condition - Andreas Daimon, Vice Principal, Delos High School for Science and Technology – Chicago, Il.”

Anyway, because of that encounter, I decided to leave the mall and go somewhere else.

Roasted Peanuts

Like I said, I didn’t know the town as well as I wanted to, so I decided to go to Millennium Park – that was one of the first places my family went to after we relocated and wanted a break, so at least I knew the place. We enjoyed the ice skating rink a lot, as well as the hot pretzels Dad bought us.

From the mall, I got onto Grand Avenue, turned left, and crossed the street via the corner pedestrian crossing between the buildings. I then turned left and crossed Hubbard, turned right on Michigan, climbed the stairs to the pedestrian overpass, got back on Michigan, turned left onto Chicago Riverwalk, crossed over to Wacker Drive (yeah… “Wacker,” not Walker…), and then after a bit I could see the park.

It was pretty cold out, especially for April: It was pretty sunny, but I checked my phone and it was supposed to be 50 degrees. I was glad for the sweater and the thermal tights.

There were lots of people walking around me even though it was early in the afternoon and it was still far from quitting time. Most of them were walking from work to lunch, or walking back to work after lunch, I guess - lots of the guys were in ties and lots of the girls were in dressier office attire. It was the Loop, after all, so the folks around here were more the higher-end professional white-collar types.

As you would in most crowds, I kept my eyes to myself, as did everyone around me, but I had this sneaking suspicion that a lot of people were staring at me, although when I turned to check, they would be looking elsewhere. I did catch some guys and a few girls looking, but when I did catch them, they’d look away, embarrassed. I guess this confirmed to me that the people around me knew I was a guy dressed up as a girl, or at least something was funny about me, but then some of the better-looking or more confident ones caught my eye, and they’d smile back. Some even gave me a wink. Besides making me walk away faster, they also made me re-think things as well.

When I got to Millennium Park, I saw a peanut vendor pushing his cart along the path. Like I said, this was the Loop, so you wouldn’t see vendors around, but this one was specially licensed to sell his stuff at the parks inside the Loop, like Connors Park, Washington Square Park, and Millennium Park (I learned later that there were a bunch of them, especially commissioned by the Tourism Department of the city). Plus his cart was so much better than the carts in the streets back home, and he was in an actual uniform complete with a paper hat just like the old-timey vendors.

The bag of nuts he sold me was also fifteen dollars (!!) But then, the bag was ginormous. So I walked around munching delicious peanuts. This time, there was no mistaking it – people were really looking at me but in a friendly way. I must have looked cute eating peanuts from a bag and enjoying the afternoon sun. It was a good thing I picked a thermal sweater because it was still cold for April (it must have been sixty degrees). As I was walking around looking at the flowers, a friendly uniformed park policeman came up to me.

“Good afternoon, miss,” he said and tipped his hat, in that traditional way you see on TV and in movies.

“Yes, officer?” I said. I was super aware of my voice, but I decided to brave it and speak up. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all, miss. I just wanted to remind you not to feed any animals you see, and to not litter in the park.” He looked at my peanuts.

“All right, officer,” I said, trying to be polite. “I won’t. Thank you.”

“Enjoy the park.” He tipped his hat again, and walked away to continue his “patrol.” He didn’t seem to be weirded out by my voice. Thank god for that.

I went to where the ice skating rink was and found it gone. It was April, so I wondered why I thought it would still be there. In its place was a big open-air restaurant. I checked it out and felt sad that I had already had lunch. The grilled food they were making smelled fantastic.

As I walked away, I had that suspicion again that the people eating were staring at me. I looked back and caught several looking away as I did, just like earlier in the street, but this time there were several that didn’t try and hide their staring. None of them appeared hostile although several had expressions that scared me, like they wanted to eat me or something. Or maybe because they were in a restaurant eating that made me think that.

There was a little boy, though, who was smiling adorably. I couldn’t help but smile back and wave. The boy, delighted, stood and waved both arms. I giggled, waved a final time, and walked away.

I found myself walking on this gorgeous undulating pedestrian bridge and crossed over Columbus Drive going to the Pritzker Pavillion, but since nothing was going on over there, I walked back.

I saw lots of flowers and sculptures (a lot of individual private works of art were displayed along the trails – pictures were on easels while sculptures stood on their own, though some of the small pieces were on stands: the park was also used as a venue to display works by private artists). And beautiful structures, too: I ended up by the Millennium Monument in a part of the park called Wrigley Square. It was a large peristyle, this one had its columns arranged in a semi-circular row surrounding the circular base of a fountain.

The monument’s columns were reminiscent of some ancient Greek or Roman structure and, oddly, it made the monument look beautiful to my eyes, and I felt at home. I sat on the base and enjoyed my still-warm roasted peanuts, listened to the pleasant splish-splash of the fountain behind me, and did some people-watching.

Like in the street and at the open-air restaurant, the people who walked by me were all looking. They unabashedly stared this time and didn’t look away. Those that caught my eye more often smiled back, so I didn’t feel too scared or weirded out (except for the few that had vaguely hostile, or, I guess predatorily hungry expressions I didn’t understand). Chicago wasn’t known for being friendly (not that Chicagoans weren’t), so being surrounded by this many friendly strangers was a surprise.

I noticed the sun was fairly low already, and I guessed it was about 4:30 or 5 PM. I decided that I should start making my way home in a while so I could give rush hour a miss. But then I didn’t want to leave because it was pleasant sitting in the park in the cool afternoon air feeling snug and warm - I should really get more sweaters.

“Val?” someone said, and I looked in that direction. it was Ma and Dad.

“Don’t panic, Val,” Dad said. “It’s okay.”

I was very aware of how I was dressed and was about to jump out of my skin and run away but Ma rushed to me before I had a chance to, and wrapped me in a tight hug.

Dad then wrapped us both in a big hug. He was a big guy at six-six so he did that easily. “You’re okay, Val,” he said. “We’re okay.”

“We love you, honey,” she said. “Don’t be scared.”

“Oh, Ma,” I said and started to cry. Being so scared and being surprised pushed me over the edge.

“You’re fine, honey. Please stop crying.”

“I’m so sorry, Ma. I’m…”

“Shhh… shhh…”

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 7: An Operation

 

A Phone Call

With an arm around me, Ma explained. She got a call from Mr. Daimon, and he explained to her the situation – that I came to him this morning asking for help, and he said, after a physical examination by Dr. Griffin that included an ultrasound test, he said that she confirmed I was intersexed, specifically the type where a female had external genitalia that looked male. He also said that they did have my blood sent out for testing, but it would just confirm it.

Ma then called Dad at work, and after Dad called Mr. Daimon and after he gave Dad the same story, they both rushed home. I wasn’t there, of course, and I wasn’t answering my cell phone. After an hour of waiting, they decided to go out and look for me.

This was a tall order, of course, but they did know my phone was turned on, and they knew I installed a phone tracker in my home laptop just in case I lost my phone, or it got stolen. So they spent a few minutes trying to figure out what the password to my computer was, and Dad rightly guessed “Gallifrey.”

It wasn’t a purely lucky guess – I mean who would guess “Gallifrey?” But Dad and I were both fans of the British sci-fi series, Doctor Who (except he was a fan of the original 1960s-1980s series and I was a fan of the current rebooted series). Guessing my password was “Gallifrey” was an inevitability.

So, using the app, they were able to track me down.

Results

Ma had her arm around me as I told them about my afternoon.

“… so I decided to see how it would be like, you know,” I said. “I bought this outfit at the mall,” I gestured to myself, “and walked around, sorta like trying it out for size? You know?”

“How was it,” Dad asked.

“It worked, actually. No one noticed. And they didn’t even notice my voice when I talked.”

“That’s incredible.”

“Let me see,” Ma said. She stood and pulled me up.

As I stood there, Ma looked me up and down. She made me turn around, too.

“I wouldn’t have believed it,” she said, “but you’re looking very good. Sexy even. Especially with the tights. What made you even try tights?”

“Actually,” I said in embarrassment, “I thought it was a pair of jeans when I picked them.”

Ma giggled. “you’re kidding.”

She then reached to my shoulder, felt around there, and then felt around my back. She was feeling for the bra straps.

“You’re wearing a bra,” she said, neither asking nor accusing.

“Yeah.” I read her mind. “It’s a size 36B.”

“Big girl,” she giggled. “What made you pick that size?”

“Is 36B big?”

“Not the cup size – I was thinking more about the band size.”

“Band size?”

“This.” And then she snapped the strap on my back. “Like me, I’m a 34D – my band size is about twenty-nine. Yours must be around thirty-four.”

“Well…”

“So how did you end up picking that size?”

“By accident, I guess. Without thinking, everything I got was in medium sizes.”

“But girls’ mediums aren’t boys’ mediums – girls’ sizes are smaller.”

“I learned that the hard way.”

Ma giggled and I smiled at her wanly. “Those things must be awfully tight,” she said.

I shrugged. “A little bit. But not at all uncomfortable.” I picked at the waistband of my tights. “It’s fairly okay – there’s lotsa stretch in girl’s clothes.”

“Usually. Anyway, your outfit’s very form-fitting and sexy, actually.”

“Maaa… I don’t need to hear that!”

She kissed me on the cheek. “Sorry, Val.”

I sat down. I was worried we were getting too much attention with me and Ma standing. Ma sat down as well.

“So, what else did Mr. Daimon say?” I wanted to know what kind of story he told my folks.

“Val,” Dad said carefully, “Mr. Daimon and Dr. Griffin said they explained your condition to you…”

I nodded. “Yeah. That I’m actually a girl…”

“You gotta know, Val, that doesn’t matter to us – boy or girl, you’re still our Val, and we love you.”

That made me tear up again, and Ma gave me another long hug.

“What’s important is that you’re healthy, safe and happy,” Dad said. “Mr. Daimon said that Dr. Griffin is recommending an operation. Assuming that further examination will show what she hopes it will, the operation can help, but it means you’ll have to transition into a regular girl… with the chance of having a family, or babies even: a regular life, if you want it…” Dad paused. “What do you think of that?”

In my little four-hour walkabout, I’ve thought of life as a girl. Not because of any fake intersex condition, but because of the change I’ve already gone through as the first part of my transformation. I was already a girl now, biologically, at least. So it wasn’t really a choice. Right now, living with being a girl was something I was trying to get a grip on. A real fear was if it turned out I couldn’t live with it - was there even a way back? But then from what I know, there was none: all that surgery could do was to make me look like a guy but not a real one. Maybe the Endowment knows how to change me back. But would they want to?

But the thing was, though, I actually enjoyed myself a little bit that afternoon. I was about to pee myself – I was so scared - but, amazingly, I still enjoyed myself. I even thought I might be good at it... if being a girl was something you could practice at being, that is. In any case, the results of my experiment were better than I imagined it would be.

“I don’t know about having kids and all that, Dad,” I answered. “I was all right being a guy…”

“I understand, kid. Whatever you decide is fine with your mother and me.”

“… although,” Ma interrupted, “according to Mr. Daimon, we need to make a decision soon. The school has a narrow window to schedule an operation for us…”

“Cost is no object,” Dad said. “He said your high school scholarship will take care of any medical expenses. But we need to decide soon.

“We can take tomorrow and Sunday to talk it over if you want. Your mom doesn’t have work on Saturdays, and I can call my assistant and tell her I won’t be coming in tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I think we need to go home now,” he said. “I think we’ve given these people enough of a show.” He nodded to the people in the park. The crowd around us had unaccountably grown. For whatever reason, lots of people were gathering around the Millennium Monument, and they were all looking at us (even though they tried to appear they weren’t). We were the only people sitting by the fountain, and we were gathering attention, although, later, Ma would say they were all looking at me more than them.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 8: Family Talks

 

CHAPTER 8: Family Talks

Drive Home

Ma wanted to ride home with me so Dad agreed to go home on his own so he could drive the car back. And since Ma and Dad parked their car near the park, Dad would get to his car first, and get home quicker than us. So he volunteered to buy dinner. Chicago deep dish, of course. Ma gets her own pizza since she likes mushrooms and green peppers while Dad and I like the Everything Pizza.

So, Dad made his way to his car while Ma and I started making our way back to the mall to pick up my car. It took me about fifteen or twenty minutes to walk from the mall to the park. Walking back might take us longer. But Ma and I didn’t mind. She put her arm through mine and we retraced my route.

As we walked back, Ma was amazed at how natural I was acting.

“No big, Ma,” I said. “It just seems to come to me.” I chuckled, but Ma took it seriously.

“It does seem like it is,” she said. “Look at how the boys are reacting,” she said to me under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Stop flirting, Val,” she said.

“I’m not doing anything!”

She put her hands on my hips. “Stop this!” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Stop swinging your hips!”

“I’m swinging my hips?”

“Yes!” she hissed.

I stopped and looked at her in shock. This forced the other pedestrians behind us to stop as well to avoid walking into us, and just walked around us. After a bit, Ma pulled me forward “Don’t stop. Let’s get to your Jeep.” We picked up the pace and walked on in silence.

When we got to the pedestrian overpass over Michigan, Ma pulled me close.

“You mean you really weren’t trying to do anything, Val?” Ma whispered. We were hyper-aware of all the people around us, so we talked in hushed whispers.

“No, Ma, I wasn’t. Sincerely.”

Ma stopped a bit. “You really weren’t?”

“No!” I whispered back, a little frustrated. She started walking again and pulled me with her.

“Hmmm. Maybe you were doing it unconsciously?”

I thought about it. “How is that even possible?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. But, you know, I think maybe that’s why you’re passing so well as a girl… ‘Coz you were acting girlie all on your own.”

We went down some stairs and then we were back in Michigan.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“I’m okay, like I said… wait – what do you mean?”

“Do you… feel like a girl?”

I thought about the question and answered honestly. “I don’t know - how is a girl supposed to feel like?” I sighed. “What I do feel is weirded out, Ma. Mr. Daimon and Dr. Griffin say I’m a girl now, but I feel the same. Well… except in my briefs…” I chuckled wanly.

Ma smiled sadly at that. “Nothing’s been done yet, sweetie - nothing’s happened. So that’s all in your head.”

What she doesn’t know, I thought…

“I do understand what you mean,” she said. “I mean, what would your basis be on, after all?”

“Yeah…” I sighed again. “Things don’t seem to have changed, so I don’t really believe this intersex junk.” That’s not the complete truth, after all – I don’t believe the intersex junk because I know it’s just a cover story. What I can’t believe is that my disk was gone.

“I think we can believe the professionals, sweetie – they know their stuff.”

“I suppose…”

“Your dad and I – we’re on your side, you know. Whatever the case may be. Do you believe me?”

“Ma. Of course.” I stopped this time and gave her a tight hug. “I love you guys.” I giggled. “How many times do I have to say it?”

She hugged me back.

Pizza

Finally, back at home, I pulled up behind Dad’s BMW.

“What took you two so long,” Dad said and hugged me. He gave Ma a kiss.

“Daaad!” I said, and Ma giggled. I should be used to that by now, but I guess I never will. I walked to the house ahead of them, and as I walked up the path and then up the porch steps, I had this feeling that they were watching me. I was still in my sweater, tights, and boots, and so I felt self-conscious. I rushed inside and let the screen door close behind me. I stopped and listened to them from inside the living room.

“Did you see that?” Dad said.

“Yes. He was doing that the whole way back.”

“He was?”

“The whole thing. Walking like he was in heels, swinging his hips, flipping his hair. All of it. And I don’t think he even knew he was doing it.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.”

I heard them coming, so I rushed further into the living room and then up the stairs.

“I’m just going to change my clothes,” I said and went up to my room.

“Okay,” Dad called. “Hurry up. Pizza.”

“’Kay!”

In my room, I rushed to pull up my new sweater, took my bra off, pulled off my new tights and panties, and dumped all of them in the hamper behind the door. I then put on a pair of shorts and a short-sleeve pullover and then slid on a pair of flip-flops.

As I passed the mirror in the hallway, I noticed my hair – it was still in the straight combed-back style. I paused. It still made me still look like a girl, and I was a little shocked by that. I deliberately mussed my hair and finger-combed it back to my normal look, and went downstairs.

In the kitchen, I found Ma and Dad chowing down on the pizzas that Dad bought. Ma had a glass of white wine while Dad had a beer.

“Dad, is it okay if I get a beer?” I asked.

Dad nodded and got me one from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and handed it to me as I sat.

“Pizza!” I enthused and got a knife to cut out a slice (Chicago natives might laugh, but I learned early on after we moved here to use a knife and a plate when getting a slice of deep-dish pizza and thereby avoid slopping stuff onto the table).

“Son,” Dad said as I chewed my first bite, “your mom says she thinks you did well when you… tried things out today.”

I paused mid-chew. “Huh?”

“You looked awfully pretty in your outfit today, and you tell us it wasn’t like planned,” Ma said.

“Well, no…”

“What made you think of doing it?” Dad said.

“Like I said, Dad – I just wanted to try it. Being a girl, I mean.”

“Why?”

“According to Mr. Daimon, there really was no way back. So I wanted to see if… I could do it… If I could live with it.”

“And?”

“Well… It was okay…”

I saw their expressions and knew that they weren’t satisfied with my reply.

“What I mean is,” I explained, having trouble articulating it, “I don’t know. Yeah, today was pretty good, but it was just a little trial or experiment. So I walked around dressed like a girl for a while, and no one found me out. Not that big a deal, really. It doesn’t really tell if I can adjust to this for real… And it’s not just playing a role for a while, or anything like that – it’s about really being a girl… forever…”

“I understand, Val. I guess what I’m…”

“But one of the bigger things,” I interrupted, “the biggest thing I’m scared of right now… is if you guys aren’t okay with it.” I looked down at my pizza. “… I don’t know if I can go on if you guys…”

I suddenly found Ma’s arms around me. “Don’t say that, Val,” Ma whispered in my ear. “I told you, whatever happens, I’ll be there for you. I love you.”

I found myself sobbing. The phrase, “feeling someone’s love,” is true. In her voice and her hug, I could feel it. I looked up at her through my tears, and I saw her gentle smile. And right behind her was Dad, his hand on Ma’s shoulder.

“Your mom’s right,” Dad said. “Whatever happens, son. You’ll still be our Val.” He laughed. “I’m not sure if ‘son’ is still right. But you pick. Okay?”

We all laughed.

Dad reached down and tousled my hair. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out together.”

Ma let go and sat down, and we resumed our pizza dinner.

I’ve always liked pizza, and, for me, Chicago Deep Dish was the best pizza, but this particular one was the best of all. I don’t know why.

- - - - -

“Val,” Dad said, “before you and your mom got home, the vice-principal, Mr. Daimon called. He’s inviting us to a meeting tomorrow morning at his office at nine. Dr. Griffin will be there, too. They want to talk to the three of us and to answer any questions we might have.”

“Tomorrow, Dad?”

Dad shrugged and got another slice. “I guess they want us to make a decision right away. What do you think, Val?”

This is really taking the cover story to ridiculous levels.

“You don’t wanna go?” he asked. “You might have questions that…”

“I don’t think I have any questions left…”

He looked at me. “So you don’t want to go?”

I shrugged.

“Well, what if we just talk to them for an hour or so? And then we can leave if we don’t feel like staying?”

“Well, okay.”

“Good deal. Thanks, son.”

That made me smile tiredly. Dad had the grace to look chagrined a little bit at the word “son.”

I laughed a little. I put another slice on my plate and stood up, intending to bring it upstairs. I stood, kissed Dad on the top of his head, and asked if I could go upstairs. Ma nodded and I went.

“Guys?” I said and turned back to them.

“Yes, dear?” Ma said.

“I love you guys,” I said. And I went upstairs.

She

I put my plate on the banister, went to the bathroom for a quick wash of my hands and face, and then went back out, fully intending to take my slice of pizza to my room and watch YouTube when I heard them talking.

The talk was about me. I sat on the floor, leaned my back on the balustrade, and listened.

“Do you think he’s really okay?” Dad said.

“It looks like,” Ma replied.

“I don’t know if I can be as brave as he is. Finding out he’s a girl…”

“What’s wrong with being a girl?” I heard Ma’s smirk in her words.

“Nothing,” Dad said and they laughed.

“What do you think made him think of going to the mall and dressing up like that?” Dad asked.

“She’s always been like that,” Ma replied.

“What do you mean?”

“You know how she gets when she has an idea in her head. She won’t let it go until she’s done it.”

“Yeah,” Dad sighed. “That has put him in some sticky situations in the past… but you think that he did okay this time.”

“Yes, I think so. I think she did good. She has to face this head-on, so I think what she did was a good first step.”

“I wish he talked to us first.”

“If she did, do you think we’d have let her?”

“Probably not.”

“There you go.”

“… well, I think he looked great. A little bit like you at that age, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, except for…”

“Henry!” I then heard Ma’s giggle as well as a playful slap. I could imagine what Dad said or did, and I giggled, too.

“You really think she looked like me?” Ma asked.

“A little bit. You know, if and when this pushes through, I think he’ll be okay.”

Ma sighed. “You know, I wouldn’t mind a daughter…”

“What? You didn’t want a son?”

“No! I love Val! You know I do. I’m proud of him. I just wish… you know, from time to time, if I had a daughter, too. Just from time to time.”

“I suppose. What mother doesn’t?”

“Val is mine. Ours. And I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“Me, too… But, Beth – he has a condition…”

“Yeah. We have to find a way to help her.”

“I think that Mr. Daimon has it well in hand…”

“I’m not leaving my baby to someone else’s care.”

“I understand.”

“But this ‘intersex’ thing - I don’t know much about it.”

“I don’t know much about it, too.”

“We’ve got to know what it’s about before the meeting tomorrow. So they won’t make the decisions for us.”

“What do we do, then?”

“Let me get my laptop, and let’s see what we can find about this intersex thing.”

“That sounds good. Oh! That reminds me – I need to get Val’s laptop. It’s in the car. I can return it to him. I’m sure he’ll want it back.”

“I’m sure she will. In the meantime, I’ll get mine: I think it’s in my car, too..”

After a brief pause, Dad cleared his throat. “Did you notice, by the way, Beth, that you’ve been calling Val a ‘she?’”

“I have?”

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 9: Meeting

 

How to Dress

The next morning, I found myself being woken up. On weekends, I liked to sleep in so I’d have my radio alarm off. So I was surprised someone was waking me up.

“Hey, champ,” Dad said as he shook my shoulder. Wake up! Sun is out. Birds are chirping.”

“… Dad… it’s a frigging Saturday… what are you doing?”

“We have a meeting at school for nine today. Remember.”

“Dammit…”

Dad pulled away my blanket and I curled up into a ball. “Get up, kid. Time for a shower.”

After I sat up in bed, Dad finally left.

Grumbling, I padded sleepily to my dresser and got a new towel and some clothes. And then I stopped. I went to Ma, who had already showered, and was in her terrycloth bathrobe and picking what to wear.

“Ma?” I knocked on her doorjamb.

She looked around. “Good morning, sweetie.”

“Hey, listen… I was thinking… can you help me get dressed?”

“Ummm… what do you mean?”

“Can you help me pick out what to wear?”

She looked at me. “You mean, like yesterday?”

“Yeah?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, Ma. Seriously. Yesterday seemed fine. Maybe I can get away with it again today.”

“Henry!” Ma called, and Dad came in.

“What’s up?”

“Val wants to try wearing girl clothes again today.”

Dad looked at me.

“Listen, son, …”

“Gotta do it, Dad. I’m biologically a girl now. So I should try and match things up. You know?”

“There’s no rush, you know…”

“I want to do it, Dad.”

“What’ll the kids at school say when they see you.”

“They’ll see me in girl clothes eventually, but for today, there won’t be any kids around. Just some school staff. And even those will just be the custodial staff.”

“But…”

“Henry,” Ma said. “She wants to do it, so let her do it.”

Dad looked at me. “… If he’s sure.”

“’She’ is sure. Val, you’re sure, right?”

“Yeah.”

“All right then.”

The School Clinic

After a quick shower (though I had a thorough shower again as per use, I only did a quick once-over down there: it was all I could bring myself to do), I brushed my teeth and then felt around for stubble. Finding none, I skipped shaving again. I dried myself, put on a thick, comfy bathrobe, and went to my room.

On my bed, I found a selection of clothes from Ma’s cabinet.

Though what she picked from her stuff looked a bit small, at least there was some stretch to them. Eventually, I’m gonna have to get my own stuff that would fit better. I was just an inch or so taller than Ma, but my measurements were larger than hers, of course – I was pretty slim for a guy, but compared to a girl, I was, like, the Hulk.

I didn’t want to put on any of Ma’s underwear ‘coz that felt creepy, so I dug through my clothes hamper and found the panties and bra from yesterday. I smelled them, and they still seemed to be okay.

So I thoughtfully put on my underwear and put her clothes over them.

What she had selected was what I would later find out was a white cap-sleeve poet’s blouse with lots of embroidery, a double-breasted pink blazer with big, gold buttons in two rows, and a pair of slim-fit faded jeans. There was also a pair of faded blue leggings. I wondered why the two pants but Ma explained that the jeans might be too tight, and if so, I should try the leggings because the leggings were almost like the tights from yesterday except these looked like they were made of faded denim, and with fake pockets on the back as well as belt loops.

There was a pair of flesh-tone nylon socks so I put them on first before the pants. Because of the color and the material, it made me look like I wasn’t wearing any socks. I asked Ma why I should wear these if they were just gonna make me look like I wasn’t wearing socks. She explained they were to make my feet feel more comfortable in the shoes.

I shrugged and left them on. I then tried to pull on the jeans, but it was a bit of a struggle – they wouldn’t go over my hips. But since there was an alternative, I switched to the leggings (Carla would explain to me later that these were actually “jeggings.” They weren’t exactly trendy anymore, but Celine, Tory Burch, and Prada were still into them. When she explained this, I didn’t really know these brand names so I didn’t care).

Yes, the “jeggings” were also tight, but because they were like what I wore yesterday, they stretched a lot so they were much more comfortable than the jeans although they were as form-fitting as could be.

I then transferred the narrow belt from the jeans to the leggings’ belt loops.

I called Ma, and she came in and made a few adjustments, like unbuttoning one of the top buttons of the blouse and then loosening the belt: she put the buckle’s prong on the last hole on the belt, and I breathed easier: the belt wasn’t really acting like a belt since it just hung loosely around my waist. I wondered why I wore the belt at all anymore, but she explained: “the way those fit you,” she said, referring to the leggings, “you don’t really need the belt, but it looks good as an accessory.”

She ran a hand over my butt and I jumped. “Ma!”

“Hmmm,” she said. “Panty line. Hold on a second.” She left and came back with what looked like a handful of strings, and handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked and shook it out. It looked like panties made of string. “Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no!”

“They’re called a g-string. They should have enough cover in the front for you… you know… but the rest won’t show. It’s so that you won’t have any visible panty line.”

She shooed me to the bathroom to change into them. “If there’s not enough material for your you-know-what,” she called through the door, “you can tuck yourself between your legs. If it doesn’t work, I’ll borrow a pair of your dad’s thongs…”

“No!” I said. “Um, these’ll do fine…”

“Okay, dear.” And then she left.

It felt like someone was giving me a wedgie or something. But I’ll live. I put on the “jeggings, stepped out of my bathroom, and then picked up my almost-unused tennis shoes, which Ma brought out. She said her shoes were far too small for me, and my sneakers were the only pair that could conceivably go with my outfit. I sat, put them on (they slid on very easily because of the nylon “bootie-socks”), did the strings up, and then I stood.

Ma came back. She looked at my chest. “You didn’t wear my bra,” she commented.

“Uh, no, I didn’t.” I forgot to put in any tissue as padding.

She looked at the bed and noticed her bra and bikini panties on top. She picked them up, went to her room, and came back.

“Here,” she said and handed me something. “Those are shoulder pads,” she explained. “Put them in your bra.”

I opened my borrowed blouse and gingerly slipped the pads into the bra cups. Ma adjusted the fit, and I buttoned up the blouse. Ma again undid the top button.

“Turn around?” she said, and I slowly spun around, and she nodded her approval.

“Looking good, Val,” Ma said. She ran her hand over my butt again, but I didn’t yelp this time.

I went with the well-scrubbed look again. Which was just as well because Ma didn’t want me to wear makeup yet until I knew how. She did relent a bit and put on some shiny neutral chapstick on my lips to make them shinier than normal.

Though she didn’t want me to wear makeup yet, she thought some jewelry might help offset that – like earrings. But I didn’t have pierced earlobes and she didn’t have any clip-on earrings. What I ended up wearing was pair of gold barrettes in my hair, one of Ma’s gold chain necklaces, and Ma’s thin gold watch.

I turned around in front of Ma’s dresser mirror, and I think I was able to do it again – look like a real girl, I mean. Not too many curves, but I think I was thin enough and my face was more than passable. Also, I think, because the clothes were pretty tight, I was looking halfway sexy.

Ma then combed my somewhat damp hair from the forehead straight back, like I did before, but, using a brush and my blow-dryer, she was able to give my hair more volume and make it shinier. She then went back to her room, came back with a spritzer thing, and spritzed my hair lightly with hair spray. She then put the barrettes back. “There. That’ll keep your hair from getting messed up,” she said.

“Wow, Val,” Dad said as he came in. “You look very pretty.”

“Thanks, Dad… I guess…”

After a quick breakfast, we were on our way. We all rode in Dad’s BMW, Ma in front with Dad, and me in the back. In less than thirty minutes, we were in the school clinic-infirmary.

I remember reading about the infirmary in the brochure for the school when we were still thinking of accepting the scholarship. They boasted they had a very advanced and fully equipped infirmary, and seeing it up front, the infirmary looked the part – a new x-ray machine, shiny cabinets full of medical instruments, tools and supplies, several neat and tidy beds, an examination table with overhead lights like in a hospital surgery, what looked like a dentist’s chair, a couple of big machines that looked to me like cat-scan machines (although I’m sure they weren’t - why would they have cat-scan machines in a school clinic), a Nurse’s desk by the door, and to the side at the end of the room was Dr. Griffin’s desk. Around it were several chairs that were presumably for us.

Dr. Griffin ushered us to the chairs in front of her desk – Ma, Dad, and me, and Mr. Daimon took the one to the right of her desk.

Dr. Griffin had a pile of what looked like X-rays and some printouts on her otherwise pristine desk. She picked up the pile and began our little tete-a-tete.

“So,” Dr. Griffin started. “I’m glad you folks could come and talk with us. Anyway, let’s start with some explanations, and then you can ask Mr. Daimon and me any questions you like, and then we can talk about what we should do for Val. First, though, I need to give kudos to Val. You are looking quite fetching in that pink blazer, Val.”

That was a little awkward, slightly creepy thing to say. “Ummm, thanks, I guess?”

“Sorry, Val,” Dr. Griffin said, noticing my tone. “Let me explain. I’m glad you’ve decided to embrace your new side, or maybe you’re just trying it out? In any case, I’m glad. It’s a mistake to be in denial. So whatever happens – good for you.”

My folks and I looked at each other. Ma reached out and hugged me.

“All right,” Dr. Griffin said. “Now, as I’ve told you over the phone, Mr. and Mrs. Goodchilde, we have just found out that Val is intersex…”

The Cover

“Intersex is an umbrella term that describes bodies that fall outside the strict male/female binary,” Dr. Griffin said. “There are lots of ways someone can be intersex. Val’s kind is called ‘46 XX Intersex.’ His particular version is the most fortunate kind. Val’s DNA is full XX, and is fully female, except he, or, rather, ‘she’ has a blind or closed vagina, labia that looks like a scrotum, and his penis is actually an enlarged clitoris. But other than that, his internals are fully functional female.”

Of course, that’s all a lie.

“Fully functional?” Ma asked.

“Yes,” Dr. Griffin said. “With the proper operation, Val could even get pregnant and give birth.”

Ma looked at Dr. Griffin with large eyes.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh…”

From Ma’s expression, she was sold, and it was something she wanted for me.

“Anyway,” Dr. Griffin said, “it’s a general term that covers a variety of situations where someone is born with sexual anatomy that doesn’t fit the traditional ‘female’ or ‘male’ anatomy. Sometimes doctors perform surgeries on intersex babies to make their bodies fit the traditional ideas of male and female. Some remain undiagnosed though and go through their entire life without knowing.”

“Exactly, Doctor Griffin,” Dad said, “Beth and I have been doing research on the net, and we read that being intersex is a naturally occurring thing, so it isn’t a medical problem, so medical interventions, like surgeries or hormone therapy on children, aren’t medically necessary. Being intersex is also more common than most realize. So we have to ask…”

“Yes?”

“Is intervention even necessary?”

Dr. Griffin and Mr. Daimon looked at each other chagrined because they hadn’t anticipated the question. I had to laugh (silently, of course) since their fake cover story was in danger of crashing and burning. I was interested in seeing how they’ll dig themselves out of this, however.

“Well, that’s true, Mr. Goodchilde,” Mr. Daimon answered, “but we recommend that Val push through with it…”

“Mr. Goodchilde,” Dr. Griffin said, cutting in, “you are absolutely right, of course – Val can just remain as he is now, I mean ‘she.’ However some problems would be solved if Val undergoes the operation, and this would significantly improve her quality of life. For example, her periods will be so much more easy and less painful.”

“Val doesn’t have periods, Dr. Griffin.”

“Well, in some other intersex people with conditions like hers, they would have periods that would have gone unnoticed, and the little discharge that there was would just be re-absorbed and metabolized by their bodies.”

Dad looked at me. “Have you had periods?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“Doctor?” Dad said, turning back to Dr. Griffin.

Dr. Griffin shrugged. “She might not have known she was having periods. Like I said, there are kids with intersex conditions like hers who’ve had periods but didn’t know they were having periods.”

Dad turned back to me. “Well, have you felt bad before?”

“What do you mean, Dad?”

“Like once a month - do you have cramps or things like that?”

“Um, sometimes? Like when I ate too much or ate something bad?”

“Headaches? Feeling out of sorts?”

“Sometimes?”

Dad looked nonplussed at my answers.

“Or maybe she hasn’t had a period yet,” Dr. Griffin said. “How old is she?”

“Val’s sixteen,” Dad answered for me.

“Well, for some intersex kids that’re fertile, they won’t get periods until they start getting their secondary sexual characteristics, like breasts and such. And Val hasn’t had that happen to her yet.”

“Yes, she’s pretty flat-chested.”

“Dad!” Then I paused. Why would I be offended by that?

“Sorry,” he said, smiling faintly.

“In any case,” Dr. Griffin said, “if she hasn’t been getting periods yet, she’ll be getting them soon. I guarantee it.”

“Doctor,” Ma said. “What kind of operation would be appropriate for her?”

“Surprisingly few operations and fairly simple ones. We’d open up her vulva, create a vagina and other things to make her look more normal and give her a functional organ. We’d shorten her clitoris, making sure to minimize any loss of sensation there, and then do a more comprehensive check of her ovaries and et cetera – rule out any cancer possibilities - and to check the functionality of her sexual organs, and fix any problems we find. And then, that’s it. She may need hormones and other medications for a while, and then she’ll be okay if she’s very lucky. After a course or two of hormones, she’ll start developing more normally, I think.”

All a lie, of course. No intersex condition was that lucky.

“Will she be…” Ma looked worried.

“She will be totally normal. Just like any girl. Judging by what we saw, I think she already has a jump on that.”

Ma looked at her gratefully and then turned to Dad. “Henry?”

“It’s not up to us, Beth,” Dad replied. “Val?”

“Sounds, good, Dad,” I said. Of course, this was just a cover after all. I’ve already switched sides, and this is just to get my folks comfortable about it and give them a plausible story. But I had to go through the motions for their sake. “Will you be okay with a girl instead of a boy?”

Dad looked at me and then hugged me. “I’ll be happy with a daughter, so long as she’ll be okay.”

“I think I’ll be okay.” I gave him a big smile.

ABBA

Dr. Griffin laid out a plan, which was just a tissue of lies, of course: firstly, on Monday, I’d be going to Saint John, New Brunswick Canada, where Troy House - one of the schools of the Aristotle Endowment – was located. Dr. Griffin said that, beside the school, the Endowment ran a high-tech clinic and laboratory there called Archimedes Genomics, which I looked up later and found it was a research facility that does work on genetics and genomics.

The “plan” was for me to check into a hotel there, and for the rest of the week, I’ll be undergoing tests and whatever operations were necessary at the clinic. And I should be back by the weekend.

Ma and Dad looked at each other.

“I don’t know if I can take the week off,” Dad told Beth.

“Me, too. But I’ll talk to my boss. And if I can’t, then I’ll just…”

“Ma!” I said. “You’re not gonna quit your job or anything like that just to go with me!”

“Sweetie, it’s all right…”

Mr. Daimon cleared his throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Goodchilde,” he said, “it’s not necessary for you to travel to Canada with Val. Dr. Griffin will accompany her, and I promise you, we’ll take care of your daughter.”

Ma smiled at the word “daughter.”

They then asked Dr. Griffin a series of questions, and based on the depth of their questions, it was obvious that my folks had been researching intersex conditions on the internet.

Mr. Daimon, but mostly Dr. Griffin, answered them all, and Ma and Dad seemed to be satisfied with their answers.

- - - -

“Such a drastic thing, what we’re thinking of doing,” Dad said after a couple of hours or so of questions. “Can we go over the pros and the cons again?”

“Not at all,” Dr. Griffin said.

“So if she goes through with the operations…”

“If she goes through with them,” Dr. Griffin responded, “she’ll look and feel like any other girl. And from what I’ve seen of her internals, she’ll have a fully functional set of ovaries and a uterus, so if she’s sexually active, she can have babies, just like any other girl. And with the supplementary hormones and medication she will be taking, she will look fully feminine, with curves and breasts and everything. In fact, she’s looking quite feminine even now – she’s on her way already. I think she’s going to be a very pretty girl a couple of months from now.”

That made me blush – whether because of shyness or shame or whatever, I couldn’t say.

“And what about the shortening of the…”

“The clitoris, yes. There has been some reported decrease in sensation after such procedures, but the people over at Archimedes Genomics are specialists, so I don’t think there will be problems, not enough to affect her quality of life.”

“What about the cons?”

“Well, her ovaries, uterus, and other internal structures – they might not become fully functional and there is a possibility of cancer. But if she decides to remain as she is, we’ll have to take them out anyway. In any case, whether she undergoes any corrective procedures or not, the risk is the same.

“Also, another ‘con’ is that she might not be too masculine if she decides not to undergo the operation, and even if she does, we still might not help her achieve full feminization. There are cons on both sides, but in our analysis and judgment, I think we’re almost assured of full feminization if she pushes through with things.”

Dr. Griffin shrugged. “Anyway, it’s your family’s decision.”

“So it still ends up as our decision…”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Val?” Ma and Dad looked at me.

I looked down. Weighing what I knew, and what I could become, in my heart of hearts, I knew I wanted to be special - an avatar of a god… that was special. And if becoming a girl was the price, then so be it. I think I can get used to it. And, besides, it’s not as if I can change things. This intersex bullshit cover story – it’s just complicating things for me. There really is no “decision” to be made, actually. Coz I was a girl already.

Ma and Dad took my behavior and silence as indecision, reluctance and fear, and gave me a hug. Truth be told, what I was feeling was more a kind of resignation. It’s already done, after all. Oh, god, it’s already done…

“Let’s do it,” Dad said to me. “I’ll be there for you. You know that, right?” He hugged me close. I nodded against his chest.

“I guess we’ll do it, then,” Dad said to Mr. Daimon.

Mr. Daimon nodded. “All right, then… Can I ask you to go with me to my office?” he asked. “I need you to sign some papers.”

“You and Mrs. Goodchilde go on with Mr. Daimon,” Dr. Griffin said. “I’ll keep Val here for a bit. I have some tests and x-rays that I want to run her through.”

Ma and Dad kissed me and went with Mr. Daimon.

When the three of them had stepped out, I turned to Dr. Griffin.

“Tests?” I asked

“Just a few. Blood tests and maybe a couple of X-rays, and that’s it. I just said that so I could keep you here. I need to talk with you about some things.”

I nodded. “I thought as much.”

She led me to a scale near the nurse’s desk and proceeded to get my weight and height. She even took a picture.

“C’mon! You can do better than that.” So I obliged and gave her a smile.

“Better. Hope you don’t mind – just for the records.”

She then went over what we’ll be doing. “So, yes, we are indeed going out to Canada, and yes, we are indeed going to Archimedes Genomics, and yes we’re going to do tests on you. But no operations, of course – that’s just for the benefit of your folks. This spontaneous change you’ve undergone – we don’t understand it, and we’re worried. We want to figure it out. The people at the clinic might be able to help.”

“Okay.”

“But I guess what I really wanted to ask was, how do you feel about all this?”

“Was everything you guys were saying true?” I asked.

“About intersex? Yes, they were.”

“It makes me think that maybe I’m intersex.”

“No. Whatever you are, you’re not intersex.”

“What am I, then?”

“You’re just a person who just simply happens to have DNA that’s very similar to those of the gods of ancient mythology.”

“Simply that, huh?” I said sarcastically. “I still can’t believe it. Also – how am I supposed to reconcile all this with my religion?”

“What’s your religion? Wait! Forget I asked that. None of my business. But this doesn’t have to mess up your religious beliefs. Dr. Castellanos – she runs the lab in Saint John – has a theory, and actually, most of us subscribe to her theory.

“A long, long time ago, she believes there was a… sub-race or a subspecies of humans that the people of the time thought were gods because they could do things that regular humans couldn’t. They were ‘gods’ – but gods with a lowercase ‘G.’ If you know what I mean. So it doesn’t have to conflict with your beliefs, and your belief of a god – a god with a big ‘G.’

“Dr. Castellanos’ theory goes - these ancient superior humans capitalized on the people’s belief that they were literally gods and established their kingdoms and beliefs and rules and mythology, accepting the obeisance and tributes of the people. Maybe, over time, these ‘gods’ eventually believed their own lies, but because of whatever – maybe because their bloodline was dying away from, I don’t know, maybe it was being diluted due to intermarriages with regular humans, or maybe what made them what they were was recessive in nature, and newer generations became less and less like gods - they faded away from the history of the world, leaving behind their statues, their cities, their mythology, their civilization. Who knows, really? Dr. Castellanos and her team are trying to see if this theory, of recessive ‘god genes,’ could be it, and if she’s right, then the reason for the Golden Theory and the Kodikos could be explained.

“Some of us have another theory, though. We also think these so-called gods really did believe that they were literal gods, so they thought they could do as they pleased. But as Lord John Emerich Acton, the nineteenth-century historian, once said, ‘Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.’ We think that the humans of that day eventually rose against their tyrannical gods, and the humans eventually wiped them out.”

I looked at her wide-eyed. “Wow. That’s like the plot from a Marvel movie.”

Dr. Griffin laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Is it true, though?”

“No one knows. We can ask Dr. Castellanos when we get to Canada.”

“Yeah… Scary…”

She looked at me. “You’re scared that you might be like those ‘gods,’ I guess?”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“And well you should be. Your score – 100 percent match. Maybe you really are just like those ‘gods.’ But it’s one thing to have godlike powers. But if a god doesn’t have a mind and a heart worthy of a god, well… absolute power and all that…”

“Yeah.” I shivered, but Dr. Griffin reached out and held my hand.

“But, you know, Val,” Dr. Griffin said, “somehow, I don’t think you’ll be like that. If you are one of those ‘gods,’ that is. But that’s one thing we need to find out – if you are indeed, one of those gods. We don’t know that yet.”

At that point, Mr. Daimon and my folks came back.

“Everything’s set,” Mr. Daimon said, but we have a problem. I have a question, Val.”

“Yes?”

“Phoebe, my assistant, said that there are only two airlines that fly from Chicago to Saint John – Air Canada and United. And all of their flights to Saint John are fully booked for a week. They’re having a week-long music concert and festival in Saint John called the Riverbay Festival. It’s a new one Saint John is organizing and trying to make a yearly thing. There are rumors that ABBA will be showing up - a rumor that I wouldn’t surprised was probably started by the organizers. ABBA fans from all over are flying to Saint John now. So, the few flights from Chicago to Saint John are all booked.”

“Oh, no! So, what’ll we do?”

“Phoebe says there are two options – we can take the bus, for example, and that would be about a two-and-a-half-day road trip, or…”

“Two and half days on a bus? Yuck…”

“Well, we’ll be transferring buses on the way, with the last leg via train.”

“Yuck,” I repeated.

“Well, the other option is we rent a car.”

“How long will a trip like that be?”

“Phoebe says it’ll be a twenty-hour ride, or we can postpone this until that concert’s over and there’ll be more flights.”

“No!” Ma reacted. “Oh. Sorry… I just think we shouldn’t postpone…”

“What do you say, Val?” Mr. Daimon asked me.

Looking at Ma’s anxious face, I knew she wanted this to push through as soon as possible, so… “I don’t think that we should postpone,” I said. “So, I guess road trip?”

“All right,” he said. “Dr. Griffin will be accompanying you, so it won’t be a lonely ride, and neither your mom nor your dad needs to accompany you and disrupt their work schedules. Also, since it will be a long trip, you and Dr. Griffin will probably want to stop somewhere for the night. Phoebe will take care of that. And then you should be at Archimedes Genomics the following day. Sound good?”

I nodded.

“There is another slight problem… There are about forty or so hotels in Saint John, but because of the music festival, all of them are fully booked. Phoebe is still looking for something, maybe a nice motel nearby. But while she’s still looking, she has you billeted in one of the dorm rooms in Troy House. But once we find a nice place, we can move you.”

I shrugged. I didn’t mind one way or the other.

“Good.” Mr. Daimon brought out his phone. “Phoebe? I’m with Val and the Goodchildes. Yes. Please arrange for the van and driver, and the dorm room accommodations. Yes, like we talked about earlier. Yes... Yes… Thank you.”

He hung up and turned to us. “There! All set. Just be sure to be in school, near the Delos High admin entrance by the parking area before eight AM Monday morning. And to dress appropriately. It’s pretty cold there compared to Chicago, although not freezing cold by any means. At least not yet.”

“Thanks, Mr. Daimon.”

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 10: Mall Trip

 

Clothes Shopping

We got in Dad’s car - Ma and Dad in front, and me in the back as usual.

“That was fast,” Dad said.

“What do you mean fast,” I grumped. “We’ve been here since nine. And it’s almost lunchtime now.”

“Val’s right, Henry,” Ma said. “Now you have to treat us to lunch.” She giggled.

“You two are always hungry,” he said.

“Can’t blame me,” I dimpled, “I’m a growing girl.”

Ma and Dad stopped at that. “Val…”

“I was joking! Can’t I joke about it?”

“Honey,” Ma said, “are you really okay with this?”

I awkwardly leaned forward and reached for her hand.

“Ma… believe me, I know I need to do this. I’m not really feeling too good about it, yeah, but I know I need to get through this. Can we just go with it? Let’s not keep questioning the thing, and just…”

Ma held my hand and brought it to her cheek.

“Okay, Val,” she said. “We’ll stop making a big deal of it, okay? We’ll just take things as they come.”

I took a deep breath. So here goes. “Ma… Dad… Can we make today like yesterday, and if you guys can treat me like a girl? As in for real. Can we just try it on for size? Just today? And see how it goes?”

“Okay, baby. Henry?”

“It’s okay by me. Let’s try it out for a day.”

“Also, Val,” Ma said, “It’s well and good you feel this way because Mr. Daimon gave us some advice for this coming week. Since you’d be going into Canada as a boy, and then coming back as a girl, it might be good to go in as a girl.”

I nodded. “Seems reasonable.”

“It’s so that they see you as a girl and avoid any hassles…”

“I don’t get you.”

What Ma was alluding to, apparently, was that I needed to be dressed as a girl, and act like a girl and everything, so everyone who sees me won’t associate me with my boy self. So, what was on the agenda for the rest of the day was a lot of clothes shopping. And then tomorrow, girl lessons, care of Ma.

Ma told Dad we were going to the Water Tower Place – it was a mall near the famous Chicago Water Tower – the last structure that survived the 1871 Chicago fire. The Water Tower Place was a pretty popular mall, and it was busy when other malls weren’t as much. It was in Chicago’s Magnificent Mile shopping district.

After parking, we went over to Wildberry Pancakes and Café for an early lunch. I ordered one of their special burgers, and Dad ordered their Chicken Chipotle Salad with a side of fries. For Ma, she ordered their veggie burger.

As I sipped on my Coke, choked with ice, as usual, they came with our orders. When they put my burger in front of me, they also gave me a knife and a fork. Huh?

I looked at Ma for some kind of cue, and I followed her example. It was weird to be cutting little bites off my burger with a knife and a fork - bun, burger, and all - and then forking them into my mouth. Ma gave me a nod and wink, so I guess I was doing it right. The place wasn’t a fine dining kind of place – far from it – but Ma said, if they give you a knife and a fork with your burger, you use them. I thought that was a stupid rule, but I was a good… girl. So, I follow what my ma tells me. Lol.

They used reusable stainless-steel straws and I thought that was cool as I sipped my drink. I knew straws were a big problem in marine pollution. The serving staff who brought our food looked at us as we chowed down. I smiled at them and waved my glass with the straw.

“The waiter’s pretty cute, huh?” Dad said, grinning.

“Stop it, Henry,” Ma said. “Val, stop flirting.”

“I’m not flirting!” I said.

“Whatever,” she pooh-pooed what I said. “Henry, stay and pay the bill. My daughter and I are getting a jump on some shopping – her trip’s on Monday, after all.” She gave him a wink and pulled me up from my chair, linked arms, and pulled me to the door. “We’ll text you where we end up.”

Ma was like a tornado, and we went around the mall as if she knew it like the back of her hand, buying what seemed like a hundred outfits, although Ma said it was just enough for the coming week.

Our first stop was a shop called Express and we bought a couple of dressy outfits, complete with costume jewelry and a couple of pairs of heels. She also picked up a couple of clip-on earrings and a couple of women’s watches – a cute women’s Casio G-Shock and a pretty fancy Tissot automatic. We then went by Forever 21 for a bunch of casual stuff like t-shirts and long-sleeve pullovers (Ma said it was just the ticket for Saint John), a couple of button-down shirts and one pair of slacks (“just in case,” Ma said).

We also got a bunch of underwear and sleep stuff. The underwear included a selection of plain bikini-style panties and half a dozen of what Ma said were bralettes. She said that they didn’t have training bras in my band size, so a bralette was the best alternative. Besides, she said that with the padding, they gave a better silhouette than a training bra could. The ones Ma found had pockets in them for padding, and she got foam pad inserts for them but in several different size pairs.

We also got a jacket from a place called Hera Fashion that Ma said would go well with the tops regardless of which I wore. I knew a little bit about that - it’s all about color selection: for coats and jackets, black or brown ones would match up with almost anything.

We also went to a store called Ragstock, which specialized in pre-owned and used clothing. Ma said that we should get a selection of clothes that don’t look new, because it would show that not all my clothes were straight from the store and make me look more authentic. We got some nice faded and broken-in jeans as well as some used shortie sundresses. We also got several skirts but we also bought several pairs of thermal tights to go with them so I could wear them in Saint John. According to the internet, it was 32 degrees over there at the moment.

The last items we got was a girl-type wallet and a girl-type backpack – Ma picked “The Backpack” by Modern Picnic. To me, it looked like what a girl’s purse would be if it was a backpack. I don’t think I’d use it much, but I’m taking Ma’s lead here.

All throughout, I got whispered pointers and instructions, and I was able to refine my “comportment” - a word that I had to look up the meaning of. In the few hours of our shopping, I learned enough of how to walk, how to stand and hold myself, and how to keep my elbows close to my sides. Ma said it was more about having the right attitude and frame of mind, and she was right – thinking “girlie” made me behave girlie. Whatever “girlie” meant… By the results, I think I did it right. Ma was an expert at it, but then again, she had spent most of her life being female. Ha-ha-ha…

I asked her about my voice, and she said my voice had an appropriate pitch and timbre to it - just enough to pass for female. But apparently, she said just I needed to speak in a more singsong way, and with an upper lilt at the end of my sentences. Instead of her, she had me be the one to talk to the salespeople so I could practice. After a while, I think I got the hang of it. I asked my dad how I sounded, and he said I sounded pretty good - sexy, in fact.

“Sexy?”

“Yeah,” he said. “The singsong thing changes it completely. Plus, your low voice – low for a girl, that is - and the slightly husky sound: very sexy. If you had a British accent, you’d sound awfully close to a teenage Elizabeth Hurley.”

“I don’t think you should tell your kid that you think she’s sexy, Dad.”

He laughed and shrugged. “Just telling it like it is. But don’t try the accent. I’ve heard you trying to do James Bond before.”

I stuck my tongue at him, and he laughed and laughed.

Dad was pretty helpful. He would carry most of the stuff we bought. And when he couldn’t carry any more, he’d make a run to the car to drop them off, and then he’d be back for more. He didn’t allow me or mom to do the carrying. He was a chauvinist that way.

I gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Dad,” I said, looking at him as he played the cliché role of the long-suffering husband-in-a-department-store-with-the-wife.

He smiled. “Not at all, darlin’,” he said.

“Ma? Maybe we’ve bought enough?”

Ma looked at Dad. “Well just a little more, and we’ll be done, honey.” She kissed Dad on the cheek. “Thank you for putting up with us, Henry.”

And true to her word, we just had one more stop, at Sephora, so we could get toiletries, a couple of bottles of perfume and cologne, and a small but complete make-up kit.

“Ma, I don’t know how to use make-up!”

“Not yet,” she said, “but you have to have your own make-up kit just so people can see you have one. Still, later at home, I’ll give you a few pointers on the basics.”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’m not going to need it – I’m going to be a tomboy, anyway, but I’ll do whatever you think is best.”

Boys Being Boys

As we walked, making our way, finally, back to the car, from the corner of my eye, I noticed maybe half a dozen guys were following us.

Dad noticed my agitation. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Dad asked.

“There’s a bunch of guys following us,” I whispered to him and gestured behind us with my head.

“What!” He turned around to check. He turned back, chuckling. “Oh, sweetie,” he said. “Don’t worry about them.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re just a bunch of kids, following a girl they think is cute.”

I stopped and looked at him. “You can’t mean me?” I said.

“Of course you.”

“You know, I can’t ever tell when you’re joking or not…”

“I’m not joking. Okay, you girls wait here.” He handed us the bags he was carrying, and casually walked to the boys. Seeing him, a couple of them sort of slunk away but Dad was able to talk to the others. Of course, we couldn’t hear what they were talking about. Dad gestured to me, and they talked some more. At the end, he shook their hands and walked back to us. The boys smiled, waved to us, and walked away.

Dad shrugged at me. “See?” he said. “Nothing to worry about.” He hugged Ma and me, gave us kisses on the cheek, and took back the bags.

“It’s all good, now,” he said. “Let’s go.”

“Wait! What was that about?”

“Like I said…”

“I don’t understand, Dad!”

“They just found a cute girl, dear, and they were trying to find a way of getting close to you. It’s just how boys are, sweetie. I told them I was your dad, and they should quit it.”

Ma giggled. “You gotta get used to that kind of thing, honey. Pretty soon, that kind of thing will just be a normal thing for you.”

“How can stalking someone be normal!” I was practically yelling, and they were both practically falling-down laughing.

“Val, Val – be cool,” Dad said. “They weren’t stalking. Surely, you know how boys are?”

“Well…” I stopped and thought a bit. “I guess I know what you mean,” I said. “But I wouldn’t be stalking girls!”

“Are you sure?” Dad wagged his eyebrows.

I huffed in frustration. “You can’t be right,” I said.

He turned to Ma. “Beth?”

“Dad’s right, Val,” she said. “Yes, there are creepy boys, but they are totally harmless. So you better not fly off the handle or be paranoid.”

“But!” Dad interjected, “there are boys that you have to worry about. The trick is to know which is which.”

“But if you don’t know which, baby,” Ma said, “you don’t take chances. Tell the teacher or call the cops.”

Dad paused, thinking. “You know, Beth, I think we have one more stop. Come on.”

Dad led us to a mall directory, picked a store, and led us to a place called Suburban Sporting Goods. Dad said, apparently, we forgot about any kind of personal protection.

He talked to the proprietor and the guy brought out a selection of pepper sprays. “Bad luck, though,” he said, “if one had a FOID, tasers and stun guns would be legal everywhere in Illinois except in Chicago. I’m afraid the only choice left are pepper sprays – these are legal. You’re sure I can’t interest you guys in some guns?”

Dad shook his head. “Thank you, but no. None of us have permits, anyway.”

“Hey, what are you talking about? This is America! I can help you get permits.”

Dad shook his head. “My family is against guns.”

The man shrugged. “Okay, friend, whatever you say. I guess these have to be it, then.”

“Beth? Val?”

We came over and looked at what the guy had on the counter. What we ended up with were a bunch of Mace pepper sprays of different sizes and a bunch of police whistles. Dad also got something called a Sabre pepperball gun: it looked like a big gun except that it was in black and orange, with “Sabre” printed on the side. It was essentially a paintball gun except that it fired pepperballs instead of paintballs. I wanted one as well, but something smaller and less gaudy-looking, but the guy explained that the gun’s orange color was mandatory for non-lethal devices, though the color was usually just around the muzzle.

“But I think I have something you might like, Miss,” he said and brought out another box.

I ended up with something called the Byrna SD Launcher. It was essentially the same as the Sabre but it was a bit smaller and it was colored black all throughout, except that orange tape was wrapped around the leading edge.

“I’m required to say that that you shouldn’t take that orange tape out – the feds require that the tape remain on the device.” He gave me a wink. “’ Course, if you take the tape off later, I wouldn’t know it. Right?”

I giggled. “Right” (remember to be singsong! I thought).

While Dad was at the cash register with the proprietor paying for our new, ummm, weapons, Ma elbowed me in the ribs. I looked at her. “What?”

“You’re a natural, sweetie,” she whispered.

That Store Smell

It was a long day. And I was glad it was over. Or so I thought. Ma asked us to bring everything that we bought and bring them to their room, so Dad and I got everything (we had to make three trips) and dumped them all on their bed.

“Here,” Ma said and handed their hamper filled with the new clothes. “Put this on the kitchen table and come back.”

“Why?”

“Just do what I say. Oh, and please bring me the hamper from your room.”

I shrugged. I took the clothes downstairs, came back up, and got my hamper. “Here you go.” I handed her the hamper.

“Thanks.” She then handed me something. “Take these and change into them.”

“Ma?”

“Do what I say.”

So I went back to my room and changed into them. They turned out to be an old pair of Ma’s lounge shorts with a white cotton hem and a faded-pink short-sleeve henley. I guess we’re keeping up the all-girl thing. In front of my mirror, I turned around and checked how I looked, and it seemed like Ma’s clothes suited me. I put on my flip-flops and went back to their room.

“Well!” Ma said and looked at me up and down. “You look very comfortable.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

“Those are yours now, by the way. They’ll be way stretched now. Anyway, take these.” She handed me the hamper I just gave her, which was now full of more of the clothes we just bought. “Bring these down.”

“You’re gonna wash them? But, Ma, these are brand new! Why?”

“Exactly, dear. They’re brand new. So they smell new. You know that slightly chemical-like smell that new clothes smell like when they come out of their sealed plastic bags? Well, we don’t want them to have that store smell.”

I shrugged. “Whatever you say.” I grabbed this second filled-up hamper and went downstairs again. Ma followed behind me, carrying yet another hamper.

I put down the hamper on the table. “Now what?”

“You leave these with me for now. Now go. Do something with your father.” She started sorting the clothes and shooed me away, so I went looking for Dad.

Later, Ma found us playing with my old Xbox in the living room again. She handed me an ice-cold can of Coke and Dad a beer and squeezed in between us. I felt a little uncomfortable when Ma and Dad were feeling… frisky. So I guess that’s it for the Xbox. I put the controller away and switched the TV to cable. I channel-surfed but couldn’t find anything to watch so I slunk away.

“Am gonna go up to my room,” I said. “Call me for dinner?” (Singsong and lilt! Singsong and lilt!)

“No problem, honey,” Dad said in a distracted way. That made me run up the stairs faster.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 11: Packing

 

Breakfast

The following morning, someone woke me up again. I yawned and sat up, and one of Ma’s capri pants and boatneck tees were thrown in my face.

“Dad!”

“Go get a shower and come downstairs,” Dad said. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Grrr…”

I had a quick shower, put on Ma’s clothes, and went downstairs. On our couch, I noticed a pile of newly washed clothes neatly folded. Some were thrown over the back of the couch with hangers in them. Presumably, they were for ironing.

I went to the kitchen. “Good morning,” I said.

“Good morning,” Dad replied. “Have a seat. Let me get you some eggs and bacon. Can you make some toast?”

“Sure thing. Where’s Ma?”

“Upstairs ironing some of your new stuff.”

I felt guilty. “She didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s not as if you could’ve stopped her.” The two of us looked at each other and laughed.

“Good morning!” Ma came down. She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She went to Dad and gave him a big smooch.

“Ahem!” I commented.

Ma giggled. “Sorry, dear.”

“Sit and have some orange juice. That should cool you down.” They laughed.

Anyway, it was actually a good morning, although there was a tinge of awkwardness. Still, I thought the three of us could get past this.

“You didn’t need to wash my new clothes, Ma,” I said.

“Not at all, sweetie, it was my pleasure.”

“And you didn’t need to iron them.”

“I won’t have any daughter of mine walking around in rumpled clothes. Besides, it was just a few pants and tops. The rest didn’t need to be ironed. Your new jacket and backpack, I have them hanging on the clothesline out back airing out.” She turned to Dad. “Henry, can you get the Samsonite luggage in the attic? I want to air them out, too.”

“Right away after breakfast, hon.”

“Mr. Daimon has you excused from class for the entire week, Val,” she said to me, “but you have to do some make-up work the week after.”

“Coolness,” I said laconically and gave her a thumbs up.

“Speaking of make-up. We’re gonna be practicing a little bit with your new kit later. Nothing major. Just some basics. But before that, I made an appointment for you with Andre for this morning.”

“Who’s Andre?”

“He’s my hairdresser. He’s going to give you a new haircut, something that’s low maintenance, something that you can switch back to a guy look easily.”

“But does he…”

“Of course not. I’m going to introduce you as Val, my tomboy daughter whom I’m treating to her first styling. I stressed that you want to ease into things, so he knows what to do.”

“Do you really think I need…” (singsong and lilt!)

“Yes, I do!”

“Well, okay, Ma…”

“Val, sweetie,” Ma said and gestured to my chest. I looked down where she was pointing but I didn’t see anything wrong. And then I noticed my nipples pointing out. I looked at Ma with wide eyes.

Stuffing

So I ended up wearing one of my new bralettes since I now had budding breasts… I was still flat as a board, but it seemed my… headlights were (involuntarily) switched on, which would attract attention. Ma suggested one of my new bralettes, and pad them out with the smaller pair of foam pads.

So, with the bralette, I now looked like I had a pair of A-sized cups. If I wanted bigger ones, I could stuff them with the larger-sized pads. Ma said I have to get used to wearing a pair. Either that or people will think I was perpetually feeling cold…

Anyway, I changed into one of the new T-shirts, one of the faded jeans from that vintage shop we went to, and my old boots (Ma said to reserve my new shoes for the trip). I did wear my new jacket and transferred all of my money and junk into the new wallet.

Ma spritzed me a little bit with one of the new colognes, and then the two of us were off to Andre’s.

As I sat in Dad’s car, with Ma driving, I couldn’t help but fidget a bit. The stuffed bralette was comfortable enough, but the shirt and jacket were a trifle form-fitting, and I had a suspicion that they were somehow emphasizing my chest.

After fifteen or twenty minutes, we pulled up at Andre’s and I came out with what Andre called a “Beachy Bob with Curtain Bangs” (I misheard it as a “bitchy bob,” of course).

It was supposed to enhance my naturally wavy and slightly curly hair with a bob that would have been appropriate at a beach. The style had bangs called “curtain bangs” that were perfect for highlighting my eyes and cheekbones, while the loose locks were supposed to create an effortless off-duty-model look. I didn’t really know what an “off-duty-model look” was, and what kinds of haircuts were appropriate for the beach. All I knew was that my new shoulder-length hairstyle was awfully cute.

Andre also explained how I could convert it to a more butch style, and that was just running a comb through my hair from front to back, and it changed the style completely. Thank god for that – I didn’t want to be girly all the time.

We went out for burgers after, since Ma wanted to road-test my new ‘do.’ And by the looks I got, I think my new look passed muster. Some of the slightly predatory looks I got made me worry, though, and when they got up the same time I did made me wish I had one of the Mace sprays we bought, or maybe my new Byrna SD Launcher. When Ma got up with me, though, they sort of sat back down, realizing I wasn’t on my own, and that my ma was with me. Whew.

We got some chicken nuggets and fries for Dad, and we went back home.

Practicing

I didn’t know there was that much to makeup, but apparently, there’s more than meets the eye when you’re doing makeup. In a very real way, it was like construction, or more like carpentry. For example, a basic routine is made up of thirteen steps. Yes, thirteen!!! Ma says as soon as I get the hang of it, I can cut out or combine some steps, but for now, I need to learn all of it.

So one begins with a clean palette i.e. a freshly washed (and scrubbed) face, and then moisturizer, then primer (yep, “primer,” as in like painting a house), and then some liquid foundation, then concealer, and then foundation powder, bronzer, then blush (with my complexion Ma says I might not need much bronzer but more blush), highlighter, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, and lip gloss (Ma says I might not need much lipstick but definitely some lip gloss would be good), and then a setting spray and powder to take out any sheen.

For now, Ma says, with my complexion, I could just go for the clean and washed look – it’s worked for me so far, so why mess with something if it’s working? So all I really needed was moisturizing, the foundation, blush, lip gloss, and a final powder. If I could manage it, light eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara would be good, too.

She’ll still teach me everything, but those were the important ones for me.

I also learned a lot of other things about applying makeup. Primer, for example, is a must, especially for girls with big pores or a not-so-smooth complexion. What one was aiming for, Ma says, is that a girl should look like she has a smooth complexion. For me, though, Ma says I could get away with the lightest primer. Concealer should also be applied in dots under one’s eyes, or wherever one has wrinkles or blemishes one wants to hide. Mostly, though it’s to hide eyebags or the dark circles under one’s eyes, and to blend it in with foundation or powder. The most important thing, though, was to find the colors that go well with my coloration and complexion and to learn how to apply makeup using a mirror, and I tell you, that’s a really hard skill to learn.

There were other things, too, like techniques on how to apply the makeup. For example, in applying eyeshadow, you have to dip your brush into the light shade, then tap the brush to get rid of any excess powder and apply the lighter shadow across the entire lid starting at the lash line and ending just above the crease of your eyelid. You then dip your brush into the darker color, tapping it again to get rid of the excess, apply the color at the outer corner of your eye just above your lash line, and then sweep the darker color across your eyelid crease just under the brow bone. Also – don’t apply around the center of your eyelid so you don’t darken the inner corners. And then you take a fresh brush and blend the two shades.

There’s something to watch out for, though, which was “raccoon eyes.” There are things you can do to avoid this – for example, using liquid eyeliner, and applying it with a really fine dipping brush. Also, if I were to use pencil eyeliner, it needs to be sharp. Ma showed me that she had her own special trick – she had a marker-type eyeliner pen. But those were hard to find.

After doing it three times over, Ma decided to quit for the day. I dutifully washed the makeup again, applied moisturizer again, and without Ma doing anything, I “fixed my face” on my own. Ma did insist on going light, with just some blush, eyeliner, light eyeshadow and lip gloss. Apparently this was what was appropriate to have at home, or what ma says is the right “around the house face.”

We went downstairs for a snack, and while Ma fixed sandwiches (fried spam slices with Cheez Whiz and bits of lettuce), she asked me to bring a beer to Dad.

“Dad?” I said while he was watching some sports event (no football today, apparently). “Want a beer?”

“Thanks, honey,” he said as he reached out for the can. He didn’t even look up from the TV.

I shrugged and turned back to the kitchen.

“Wait!” Dad exclaimed. “… Val?”

I giggled.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 12: Packing

 

Carla and Michael

All of my new stuff plus my laptop and other things fit into the matching Samsonite luggage that Dad used for his work trips. The matching luggage made of four different-sized bags was full to the brim, with my laptop in the new Picnic backpack.

As planned, I was in ‘girl mode’ again, and was in an outfit that was, according to Ma, appropriate for a road trip: I was wearing one of my Dad’s plain light-blue button-down shirts, unbuttoned, and the sleeves rolled up. It was pretty big around me, but I guess that’s the point. I wore it over a light-pink spaghetti strap tank top underneath the shirt, tucked into one of my new faded slim-fit jeans. The jeans, in turn, tucked into my old combat boots (which Dad had cleaned up and shined early this morning – something I never expected him to do). The tails of the shirt bothered me a little bit, so I just knotted it around my waist. Over it, I would be wearing my new deerskin leather jacket, but I currently had that off - it was a bit cool that morning, but I felt fine. Maybe I’ll put on the jacket later.

Dad was in a suit and tie – he was going to the office after dropping me off. Dad said that it was okay – he didn’t need to be in his office right away. Ma was also in her usual office attire, but she was going directly to work.

Dad and I loaded the trunk of his BMW and, after a lengthy hugfest with Ma, we left for school. We got to Delos just before the final bell, parking in the lot near the admin entrance. The parking lot was practically deserted of kids - almost all the kids had already gone into class. Thank god for that – that I missed all the kids. I mean, how could I explain how I was dressed? And if they did see me, they would just beat me up: I was also glad Dad was with me as we waited for Mr. Daimon and Dr. Griffin. If ever something happens, Dad’ll be around to handle it. He’s a big six-foot-six guy and, if he wanted, he could scare the piss out of you, or, if you were a girl, get you giggling and preening. Ma says Dad was like the best combination of a man’s man and a ladies’ man (those are her words… actually, Dad’s words, too. Lol), so if you were around him, it makes you feel like you were with a policeman or something, and that no one would bother you.

“When are they supposed to be here again?” Dad asked.

I shrugged. “All they said was to be here before eight.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, Mr. Goodchilde,” someone said. It was Michael – he was standing just outside Dad’s car window. Standing behind him was Carla, waving. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, hello, Michael. Hello, Carla. Just bringing Val to school. How’re you two doing?”

“We’re doing okay. “

“How’s Val, Mr. Goodchilde? We haven’t seen him in school since Thursday. Last Thursday, he was sick or something. We were worried.”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Dad gestured to me.

“Where?” Carla said, and then it dawned on the two. “Oh, my god…”

“Val, that you?” Michael asked.

I waved to them half-heartedly. “Hey, guys,” I said in my new voice - Instinctively, in my mind, I thought “singsong and lilt” again, but I was too late to catch it. I wanted to sink into the car seat in embarrassment.

“What the fuck are you wearing, dude!” Michael said.

Behind them, they heard someone clearing her throat.

“Good morning, Ms Alexander, Mr. Andreas,” Dr. Griffin said ominously. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Good morning, doctor,” Carla said. “Sorry…” But before they could slink away, Dr. Griffin stopped them.

“Wait,” Dr. Griffin said. “You two don’t know what’s going on. Go to the vice-principal’s office. Mr. Daimon will explain.”

As the two of them turned to go, Michael and Carla kept staring at me.

“Go through the admin entrance,” Dr. Griffin said, “that way, you don’t run into the other kids. You need to know the situation before you start spreading anything and hurting Val.” She brought up her phone, presumably to give Mr. Daimon a call.

They turned to go through the admin entrance, and as they disappeared, the final bell rang.

Dad turned to me. “I’m so sorry, Val,” he said, and handed me his handkerchief. I didn’t even notice I was crying. I accepted his handkerchief and blew my nose and wiped my eyes.

“My makeup…”

“Stop worrying about your makeup, sweetie,” Dad said, and gave me a hug.

“I’m worried about getting raccoon eyes…”

Dad chuckled.

“So,” Dr. Griffin said, “Are you ready for our trip, Val?” She politely ignored my tears.

“I’m ready, doctor.”

“Come on, then.”

From the trunk, Dad got the two big bags, and put the small one underneath his arm. I got the last one which was the wheelie bag. Just as well, since I had my new Picnic backpack on my back, an overnighter in my hand and my coat over my arm.

Dr. Griffin chuckled. “Do you think you brought enough stuff?”

Dad laughed and I smiled sheepishly in embarrassment.

“My wife packed,” Dad said.

“We’ll be using that white E-150 van over there,” Dr. Griffin said.

“Who’ll be driving?” Dad asked as we walked to the white van.

“Dr. Castellanos came down from Troy House. She and I will be trading driving duties.”

“Who’s…”

“Dr. Castellanos is their school doctor, and she’s the lead scientist of Archimedes Genomics.”

“She is? If she’s so important, what’s she doing driving for us?”

“Penny took an interest in Val’s case. I guess this is her way of helping. I think she’s hoping this trip will give her a chance to get to know Val. There she is.” She pointed to the lady inside the van.

As we got closer to the van, this blonde woman came out of the van. She was fashionably dressed in a professional-looking casual suit, and she was really tall - she must have been at least six feet three – and looked like she was around her late twenties or middle thirties at most, making her pretty young to be running a lab. And she was simply gorgeous. I stopped, my mouth hanging slackly.

“Oh, my god,” I said.

Dad hit me lightly on the shoulder, and I remembered to close my mouth. We went forward and stood in front of her.

“You must be Mr. Goodchilde,” she said and shook hands with Dad. “I’m Penelope Castellanos. Please call me Penny.”

“Glad to meet you, Dr. Castellanos. I mean ‘Penny.’ I’m Henry. And this is my, ummm… daughter, Val.”

“Pleased to meet you, Val,” she said, and shook my hand.

“Hi,” I replied shyly.

She looked at my bags. “Goodness,” she said, “you certainly brought a lot of stuff. Go on and put them in the van – the back’s open.” I got the bags from Dad and went to the back to dump my luggage in there as well as my little overnighter (I held on to my backpack and jacket). I don’t know what I was thinking – the luggage was actually pretty big and heavy, and it took me maybe five minutes to get them in and arranged so they won’t shift around. There were several other bags in there already, and I assumed they were Dr. Griffin’s and Dr. Castellanos’.

An E-150 is pretty roomy - there was a lot of space for my bags, so I didn’t scrunch up their stuff, but even so, I took time to make sure they were all snug and secure. I closed the back and went back to Dad and the others.

The three adults were chatting and stuff when I got close.

“… so, don’t worry, Mr. Goodchilde,” the doctor was saying. “Maia and I will take care of your girl, and she’ll be a hundred percent when we bring her back.” That sounded ironic. I didn’t know Dr. Griffin’s name was Maia.

“I’m counting on that, doctor,” Dad said.

“You can. Trust me, eh?” Eh? She had a distinct accent – very Canadian-ish. She reached out her hand to Dad.

“All right,” he said, and they shook.

She turned to me. “All right, Val. Better climb in so we can go.”

I turned to Dad. “’Kay, Dad. I guess this is it.” I reached out and gave him a tight hug. For some reason, I felt like crying again.

“Careful,” he said, “raccoon eyes, you know.” I giggled. “Good luck, sweetie. Your mom and I will be here when you get back. And give us a call anytime if there’s trouble. And your mom said to remind you to give us a call every night.”

“I will. Love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too.”

I climbed into the seat in the back of the driver’s seat and Dr. Castellanos and Dr. Griffin sat up front. And we were off.

Cowboy Bebop

“So, Val,” Dr. Castellanos said in a musical voice, “have you had breakfast yet? Maybe we can drive by someplace for a bite first. Maia, do you know any nice place around here where we can have some breakfast?”

“Sure.”

“Actually, I’m not too hungry,” I said.

“Probably nerves, Val,” Dr. Castellanos said. “We can go get something later, eh? So! Maia and Daimon tell me she’s briefed you on the real score?”

I nodded to her in the rearview. “Yeah. Pretty unbelievable, if you ask me.”

The two of them laughed. “I know, right?” Dr. Castellanos chuckled. “But it’s all true. Believe me.”

“’ Gods?’” I said. “Seriously?”

“I guess I got too used to it by thinking of them as not literally gods. They were just people – but just a little different.”

“How different?”

“Well, all we can really do is go by what our graduates have become, after stabilizing, that is. So we don’t really know. I think all it really was is that these new… people were just a little different and all that, but nothing like how you see gods depicted in the movies, and definitely not like those Marvel and DC superheroes.”

“How different?”

“You wouldn’t really notice it.”

“In what way are they different?”

“Well, Maia would have told you some of them. Stronger – able to lift a little more weight than could easily be explained by their physiques; a little bit faster reflexes; a little bit more acute senses all around; better stamina; better resistance to illnesses and diseases; no genetic issues and abnormalities; higher IQs – none of our graduates have IQ scores lower than 140; better memory; more longer-lived but no immortality, of course; better at math and comprehension; better problem-solving abilities; et cetera, et cetera. There are others but they’re more subjective kinds of improvements and not really quantifiable.”

“That doesn’t sound god-like at all.”

“But pretty good, wouldn’t you say?”

“Sure, but it’s a little disappointing.”

“Depends on what you were expecting.”

“Do any of them shoot lasers out of their eyes or something? Or maybe predict the future, or lift trucks, or fly?”

Dr. Castellanos giggled. “Of course not.”

“Damn…”

“But it’s all consistent and, for the most part, quantifiable. Once a student’s been given time to stabilize, at least.”

“After they’ve been given the… ambrosia?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think will happen to me? After I’ve stabilized, I mean.”

“You’re the first with a one hundred score. So we don’t know. However, with the data we have, we’ve sort of found a correlation between the person’s score and the… improvements they’ve exhibited.”

“Yes?”

“It seems the higher someone’s score is, the better the improvements.”

“Seems like that’s a good thing for me, then.”

“We’re not sure, but I think so.”

That made me pause a bit and thought of the possibilities for me.

“Val’s a pretty name,” Dr. Castellanos suddenly said, clearly trying to break the ice. “What’s it short for?”

“Nothing. It’s just Val – my folks named me Val Edward – after the actor. My dad’s a big fan of Top Gun – the original movie.”

“Why not the other actor?”

"Supposedly, my dad thought he was too well known, and I may get beaten up or something if they give me his name. Clearly, though, they didn’t think it though. I mean, a boy named Val…” I sighed theatrically, and they laughed.

“Did you ever get beaten up?” Dr. Castellanos asked.

“In my old school, I was being bullied by the school assholes, and, once, they tried to beat me up. but I fought back and beat them up instead.”

“Whoa!”

I shrugged. “I’m stronger than I look. Plus my dad taught me lots of self-defense stuff.”

“That’s amazing.”

I shrugged again. “Anyway, after that, no one bothered me again. Sure I got… harassed a lot, but that’s about it.”

“How about at Delos,” she asked.

“Well, just a little bit of harassment, but I manage. In fact, I’ve had to break up a couple of fights.”

“Fights? What were they about?”

“Well, me, actually.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Val can tell you about it later when we get to Saint John, Penny,” Dr. Griffin said. “Val was telling us about what name she wanted.”

“Well… Like I was saying,” I said, “I was named Val Edward. I like my name, actually.”

“Ahh,” Dr. Castellanos said. “Well, at least ‘Val’ works for a girl as well. You’re a girl now.”

“Although most people will assume it’s a nickname,” Dr. Griffin said. “Also, something has to be done for ‘Edward.’”

“Well, ‘Val’ can be short for ‘Valerie’ or something,” Dr. Griffin said, “and the ‘Edward’ can be dropped altogether.”

“Oh,” I reacted. “Of course, I’ll need to change my name, too… My folks and I didn’t think of that. How can someone change her name? I mean, legally change her name. Is it difficult?”

“Don’t worry about it, Val,” Dr. Griffin said. “The school will take care of it if you and your parents want. So what would you like to have as your new name?”

“I’d like to be able to keep my current name. The ‘Val,’ at least – I don’t care about the ‘Edward’ – I don’t use it, anyway, and no one calls me Edward. So we can drop that part.”

“So, just ‘Val,’ then?”

“Doesn’t sound right – it's too short: it’s more like a nickname, like you said… So, how about Valentine? That sounds pretty cute.”

Dr. Griffin and Dr. Castellanos grinned and nodded.

“Sounds good,” said Dr. Castellanos.

“Valentine Goodchilde…” I said to myself, trying it out for size. Somehow it sounded incomplete. And then I had an idea.

“Can my new name be Faye Valentine? And Val can be my nickname.”

“Sure,” Dr. Griffin said. “Where did you get that? Just thought it up?”

“It’s a character from a classic Japanese anime, actually. Netflix did a reboot of it.”

“I should check that out. What’s the name?”

“No need – Netflix didn’t do too good a job. Better to watch the original.”

Well, anyway – the name’s not a problem. I think it’s a good name. Mr. Daimon can contact your folks and get the ball rolling.”

“Faye Valentine…” I said to myself and grinned. “I think I can get used to that.”

Tim Hortons

That morning, we spent a lot of time just talking. I guess Dr. Castellanos really did want to get to know me. I was also very impressed that Dr. Castellanos could chat while driving, and not even one close call.

I also took it as an opportunity to find out a little bit about Troy House and Archimedes Genomics.

I told her, to me, it seemed a little unusual to put up a school and a high-tech lab in a fairly out-of-the-way location, but Dr. Castellanos said the Endowment did it deliberately. Saint John wasn’t really out in the boonies: it was actually a major shipping hub with a major shipbuilding industry in the late 1800s and early 1900s, largely because of the city’s proximity to the Bay of Fundy – its seaport doesn’t ice over because of the bay’s tidal bore, making the city an ideal shipbuilding site. Over the years, though, the industry waxed and waned and the major industry of the city changed several times – to a railway hub, to an industrial district with power stations, to fishing, mining, et cetera. In the latter half of the twentieth century, the city found niches in education, call centers, IT, and high technology. And when the shift was happening to computers and high tech in the eighties, that’s when the Endowment put up Troy House.

There were many reasons why the directors thought Saint John was ideal: the fact that it didn’t have that high a profile yet have the same kind of infrastructure of its more affluent and more well-known contemporaries made it a good place to put up the kind of school they were intending, and its still-evolving educational institutions would give the Endowment good camouflage when it put up Troy House.

And after over forty years, Troy House had grown to have the largest campus of all the Endowment’s ten schools - even larger than what was considered the Endowment’s main school that was based out of Athens: Tray House had fifteen classrooms when the other schools had ten at most – more than enough for the 200-student population of each school. Troy House boasted an auditorium, a music room, two lecture halls, an indoor pool, a basketball-slash-volleyball court, an indoor racing track, four small cafeterias (the other Endowment schools like Delos usually only had one), a bowling alley (unique to Troy House) that was open to the public Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays, and four two-story dormitories: in Troy House, all the students were required to live in-campus hence the large dormitory and the large number of facilities. This was necessary because almost all of its students were from out-of-town, with a third from overseas.

I asked why this was so – why were most of Troy House’s students out-of-towners and why they were living in–campus? Dr. Castellanos sort of sidestepped my question, and instead said that it wasn’t too different from the other nine schools. “Look at your own situation,” she said.

- - - - - - - -

After the Endowment’s school in Saint John was more-or-less established, the city’s emerging IT and tech industries also gave them a kind of camouflage, which allowed them to put up Archimedes Geonomics, through several shell companies, without getting much attention. In four decades, Archimedes had just quietly operated and had grown to become the center for most of the discoveries that the schools and the Endowment have made, and it was also through Archimedes that they farmed out and shared these discoveries with the rest of the scientific community.

But besides being a clearing house for these kinds of scientific discoveries, Archimedes has taken the lead on the Endowment’s efforts to find more students’ getting more kids transformed, stabilized, and released into the world. In fact, it had the names of enough potential “scholars” that they could increase the number of their students in their schools starting the next school year. So, as approved by the directors, a new Freshman class will be added in all ten schools. In four years, they’ll increase their graduates from two thousand to three thousand students per year.

“Except for transferees,” I said, thinking of my case (I transferred to Delos High during my junior year, after all).

“Oh, we don’t really have transferees,” Dr. Griffin said, “except when a scholarship is offered to candidates when the school lost a student - a school’s class size is exactly twenty-five students, and as you know, there are only two classes per level.”

“I’ve always wanted to ask about that,” I said.

“We can talk about that later, too,” Dr. Castellanos said.

I nodded. I seem to be following Dr. Castellanos without much complaint, which felt a little unusual for me.

“Look!” Dr. Castellanos exclaimed. “A Tim Hortons!”

“Huh?”

“Let’s get some coffee and a bite,” she said, and started pulling over.

Instant Crush

Inside Tim Hortons, we got in line. I had my new jacket on and my backpack. It was a fairly long line of people, mostly those who were just buying take-out. The two were a couple of people ahead of me.

I got a tap on the shoulder, and I jumped a little bit.

“Oh!” the guy said. “I’m sorry to startle you.”

He seemed all right, but I wasn’t sure. Anyway, I had one of those Mace things.

“Yes?” (Singsong and lilt! Singsong and lilt!)

“Are you with those two?” he asked, pointing to Dr. Griffin and Dr. Castellanos.

“Yes.”

“Who’s the tall, sexy blonde? Have I seen her somewhere before?”

“Ummm, how would I know if you’ve seen her? She’s a doctor. She’s bringing us to a, hmmm, a hospital, for tests and an operation.” Why did I even bother to give him an explanation?

He looked at me. “You look pretty healthy,” he said. Uh-oh. Where’s that pepper spray? “What’s wrong with you?”

What an asshole. “Why is it any business of yours?”

“Well, screw you, you stuck-up bitch!”

“Is everything okay here?” Dr. Castellanos said, with Dr. Griffin beside her.

Everything went silent.

“Ummm, everything’s cool, lady,” the guy said. “Go away.”

“Val?”

“No problem, Doctor,” I said. “I can handle him.”

“You can, huh?” he said to me. He pulled back and was about to sock me, but Dr. Castellanos reached out in a flash and held onto his arm.

“Please don’t do that,” Dr. Castellanos said mildly.

The guy struggled. “Let go!”

She let go, but she did just as he pulled his arm away from her. The momentum made him fall back. He knocked over a couple of people’s drinks and he was showered with iced coffees as he fell on his butt.

The store manager and a couple of his guys rushed up.

The guy struggled to his feet spitting mad. “It’s a good thing you’re hot,” he said. “Otherwise…”

“Dude,” the manager said, “don’t do what I think you’re going to do. Otherwise, I’m calling the cops.”

The other customers turned to them. One of them stood up. He was as big as Dad. “Don’t, man,” he said.

The guy looked around at all the hostile faces.

“Why don’t you just leave, asshole,” the woman with the big guy said.

He threw his hands up, in frustration, and started to stomp out. As he passed me by, he pushed me back. I was pushed out of balance and was about to fall, but Dr. Castellanos reached out and kept me from falling.

“Thanks!” I huffed.

“No problem, honey,” she said and gave me a smile. If there was something called an instant crush, that’s what I got.

One of the people saw how the asshole hit me and started moving towards him, so the guy ran the rest of the way and escaped out of the door.

Dr. Castellanos and Dr. Griffin stayed with me and fell in line behind me, but the manager insisted to personally take our order, perhaps as a kind of apology for that asshole, and we looked for a vacant table. A bunch of guys saw this and they stood up so we could sit at their table – one of them said they had just finished and were leaving anyway. We nodded and smiled our thanks at them, and they waved before stepping out.

“That was lucky,” Dr. Castellanos said.

Dr. Griffin giggled.

“What’s funny,” I asked.

“My dear,” Dr. Griffin said, I’ve been around Penny long enough that ‘lucky’ things always happen.”

“Huh?”

“Like someone just giving up a parking space while we’re looking for a spot, or a cop just giving us a warning instead of a ticket, or someone giving up their place in line, or someone giving up their table.” She giggled again.

“Is that true?” I asked Dr. Castellanos.

“Maia exaggerates,” she said, and pshawed what Dr. Griffin said.

“You don’t have to believe me, Val. When we get to Saint John, you’ll see just how everyone bends backward for her. It’s like everyone has a crush on Blondie here.” Dr. Griffin giggled.

“Maia!” Dr. Castellanos exclaimed and hit her playfully on the shoulder.

Dr. Griffin said Tim Hortons was like Canada’s version of a Dunkin Donuts combined with a Starbucks, but I think it was pretty okay. Dr. Castellanos ordered a couple of hash browns, and something called a “double double”, and Dr. Griffin ordered a maple donut and an iced tea. For me, I tried to pick something I haven’t had yet. I ended up with something called a bagel BELT, which was just a toasted bagel with bacon, lettuce, and tomato BUT with an egg omelet (hence the ‘E’), and I ordered something called a Real Fruit Chill.

It wasn’t as spectacular as I imagined Tim Hortons would be, but the food was pretty okay. Better than Dunkin Donuts, at least, but the donuts were a lot firmer than I thought donuts ought to be, but pretty okay, definitely. The coffee was lots better than Dunkin’ – it was just like Starbucks, IMO. We didn’t loiter since we were on a schedule, so we left right away. Dr. Castellanos bought two “six packs” of donuts, and a couple of coffees. To go. Why twelve donuts – I guess the Doc had a sweet tooth, although she said they were for me. “Something for the road, eh?” I suppressed a giggle – I don’t know why, but we Americans just find the Canadian accent funny…

Dr. Castellanos insisted we go visit the “washroom” since we had a long way to go – something Dad might have insisted on, too, but as I was about to step into the men’s, Dr. Griffin cleared her throat. Oops!

I detoured immediately and the three of us went into the ladies’.

This was just my second time in a women’s restroom, but, aside from smelling better and being cleaner, it was just like a men’s room, except there weren’t any urinals, of course. It was just a small “washroom,” but it did have three stalls and they were, miraculously, free, so we had one each.

I didn’t really feel like I had to go but I thoughtfully pulled down my underwear and jeans and sat down. And after a little push, I finally let go. Apparently, I DID need to go. I then suddenly realized that, for the past few days, I hadn’t needed to go to the bathroom except after I woke up. And then I also realized that I hadn’t gone number two for a while… But I didn’t feel constipated or anything. That’s worrying… Hmmm…

We went back to the van, with the manager insisting on carrying our three six-packs, leaving me to carry our three coffees. Dr. Griffin smiled at that and gave me a wink. Dr. Castellanos noticed. “Shut up, Maia,” she said sotto voce.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 13: Motel

 

Jollibee

We got on the way again and passed Toledo. At around Two PM, we went to a little greasy spoon in Cleveland I can’t remember the name of, but they had a great meatball and cheese sandwich with their own chicken-and-beef meatballs and provolone cheese on a fresh Italian roll with a side of coleslaw. I had a big ice-cold bottle of mineral water to go with the sandwich and a big chocolate chip cookie. For some reason, I seem to have been indulging in sweets all day – in fact, I had already gone through one-half of one of the donut six packs already.

The others both got a chicken salad on rye, and Dr. Castellanos had another coffee.

The short-order cook kept smiling at me, and I thought the guy was cracked or something. I ignored him and just concentrated on my brownie.

I complained a little bit that we didn’t get to see anything, but Dr. Griffin said it was just Cleveland – sightseeing was just not something people usually do in Cleveland (she joked), and besides, we needed to be in Saint John by tomorrow…

We left the little diner and continued on our way, with Dr. Griffin taking over driving duties. We passed Erie, Buffalo, and Syracuse and by nine PM, we ended up in Albany, New York. Dr, Griffin asked me to look for a nice motel nearby. I picked what looked to be a good one based on the feedback and pictures on Yelp, but the main reason I picked it was because of the free internet it offered.

We left most of our luggage in the van and we just brought our essentials – for me, that just meant my overnighter. I was the last one, so I ended up locking the van and pocketing the keys.

Dr. Castellanos got us three rooms with adjoining doors on the second floor, and then we went across the street to a fast-food place called Jollibee. Instead of a clown, its mascot was a big bee with a red busboy’s jacket and what looked like a white chef’s hat. But just like Daffy and Daisy Duck - no pants heheheh. The nice Filipino girl behind the counter sadly said they were closing already, but we could still order take-out, so I picked a Jollibee “yumburger with cheese.” But, looking at the sizes of the burgers the people in the place were eating, I decided to order a couple instead of just one. I also ordered a large fries, a large Coke, a bottle of water, and, looking at the menu above, I also got a couple of “peach mango pies” (peach plus mango… mmm…).

When we got back to the motel, Dr. Griffin and Dr. Castellanos said they’re gonna have a bath and some dinner. Even though I was just a passenger, I was beat, and it would be great to get a hot shower. Road trips do that to you.

After I closed my door, I shook out the laundry bag Ma packed, shucked my clothes, and dumped them in the bag. I got a pair of red plaid pajama shorts and a plain white square-neck tank top and a fresh pair of bikini panties. I stopped a bit and fished out the bra pads from the bralette. I might not have enough pads to last me the week so best save it.

Instead of unpacking a towel, I just used the towel in the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, had a shower (I was still feeling a little weirded out by my new junk, so I just did a quick wash down there), and changed into my fresh change of clothes. I then took my “yumburgers,” coke, fries and pies to the corner table near the window.

So as not to lose the do, I lightly rubbed my hair, used my hair dryer which I brought, and simultaneously lightly brushed it the way Andre said so that I don’t take out the styling. If I keep on doing that, my hairstyle should last me a while. As Andre instructed, I shouldn’t dry it completely, and just let it dry out on its own. The danger was that, if I did, and I was going straight to bed, I’m going to get bedhead when I woke up. So that meant I had to stay up until my hair was completely dry.

That was okay since I was gonna call my folks and Carla & Michael anyway.

As I sat down, I found my shirt rubbing my nipples, which was irritating. I pulled out a fresh bralette and picked the smallest bra pads I had in the bralette’s pockets. I took off the tank top, put on the bralette, and then put the tank back on.

I opened my laptop and then clicked Carla’s Viber. I took a deep breath and prepared myself.

Carla

After a few moments, Carla logged on and I could see her on my screen.

“Hey, Val,” she said and then put her hands on her cheek. “Ohmigod! What are you wearing!”

I smiled wanly. “Hi, Carla.”

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod…” she repeated.

“Carla, stop it!”

“I’m sorry, Val. But ohmigod!”

I sighed and just ignored her. “So did you get to talk to Mr. Daimon?”

“Yes, Mr. Daimon explained. Poor Val… I’m so sorry, Val.”

“S’okay, Carla.”

“So all this time, my friend Val has been a girl instead of a guy. Too bad…”

“What do you mean, ‘too bad?’”

“Well, I guess it’s okay to tell you now… I’ve had a crush on you ever since we met. But now that, you know, you’re a girl, too, I guess I don’t anymore.”

I felt a bit sad about that. “Can we still be friends? Even if I’m a girl now?”

“What’re you talking about! Of course, we’re still friends!”

“I sighed. “Thank god for that.”

So… How’re you doing? I like the look. Very vacation-y. I especially like the -” she pulled at her bra strap.

“What?”

“Your bra strap’s showing. Sexy, but in a casual way.”

“Oh. Didn’t even know that…”

Are you, like, wearing falsies? Can’t be you already have boobs. Mr. Daimon said it’d take time for hormones to start working. What have they done to you anyway? Boob job?”

“Bra pads. Had to have them on – I would look ridiculous if I was as flat as an ironing board.”

“I’m not complaining. You look pretty sexy. Especially with the highlights and the new cut.”

“Ma said some choice words about my hair, so she brought me to her hairdresser. And Voila!”

“Lookin’ sexy ‘n sassy, Val!”

We both giggled.

“What made you think of going en femme all the way, anyway? Don’t you still have your old bits?”

“I told my folks there’s no going back anymore, so I might as well get used to things.”

“So?”

“I’m still a little jittery about things, but I think I can stand being a girl,” I laughed.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a girl!”

“I know that! I’m just… worried if I can…”

“Val – shhh… It’s fine. I know what you’re saying. But at least you’ll have one friend to help you out.”

“Yeah? Thank you, Carla.”

She smiled delightedly. “What’re friends for?”

I unwrapped one of my still-warm yumburgers and had a bite. It tasted different, like it was much more savory than, say, a Big Mac. I liked it. Carla excused herself for a minute and then came back with a bowl of Newman’s Own microwave popcorn, and we chowed down at the same time. It felt just like one of our little chats in her house. The only thing missing was Michael.

I told her about our cover story – the intersex thing, but the bulk of it she (and Michael) already knew. I told her about Dr. Castellanos, though –the lady in charge of the clinic and Troy House, and how drop-dead gorgeous she was. But she wasn’t snooty or stuck-up at all – she was super-friendly. I told her everything she and Dr. Griffin told me about Archimedes Genomics and Troy House, except for the whole god thing, of course.

I also told her my worries about someone finding out that I was masquerading as a girl, and how I thought my voice sounded. “What do you think of my voice?” I asked.

“Let me hear some,” she said.

“So what do you want me to say?” (Singsong and lilt!)

“Anything at all.”

“’Anything at all.’”

“No, say something else.”

“’No, say something else.’”

“Stop it!”

“’Stop it!’”

“Val!”

“’Val!’”

“I quit!”

I couldn’t stop myself anymore and broke down laughing. After a minute or so, I finally got myself under control.

“You sound fine,” Carla said coolly.

“What?”

“I said you sound fine,” she said grumpily.

“That was mean of me. I’m sorry, Carla.”

She smiled. “You know just how to get me to forgive the stupid stuff you do.”

“Yep, I do!” And we both giggled.

“Hey, do you think we should call Michael?”

“Let me conference him into our Viber call,” Carla said.

After a few moments, Michael logged on and I could see all three of us on my screen.

“Hey, Carla. Hey, Val,” Michael said and then slapped his forehead. “Ohmigod, Val! What are you wearing!”

“Hi, Michael.”

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod…” he repeated.

Ohmigod, Ohmigod, Ohmigod!

After our talk, my cell beeped – Dad just texted, asking why I haven’t called yet. So I said goodbye to Carla and Michael and then clicked Dad’s Viber link.

After a few moments, I could see Ma and Dad on my screen.

“Hi, guys,” I said, waving to them.

“Val!” Ma said. “Finally! We’ve been waiting hours and hours! Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine Ma. Sorry – I was chatting with Carla and Michael, and the time got away from me. They haven’t seen me for five days, so I thought I owed them an explanation.”

“Ahhh. That’s okay then. How’re you, honey? How’s the trip been so far?”

So I told them everything that happened, often giving them a blow-by-blow. Dad wanted to know about Dr. Castellanos, and Ma looked at Dad with a raised eyebrow while I was telling them about her, and Dad hanging on to my every word.

“We’re currently in a motel in Albany, New York,” I said, “and, according to Dr. Griffin, we’re still on schedule.”

I unwrapped my second yumburger and took a bite.

“What’s that?” Dad asked.

“It’s a yumburger,” I said, and I told him about Jollibee. “It’s actually pretty good,” I said, “tastier than a regular burger. It’s just a little bit undersized. This is actually my second.”

“I’ve heard of Jollibee!” Dad said. “Did you get a peach-mango pie?”

I grabbed my pies and showed Dad, showing them in a ‘V.’

“I’m jealous,” he said. “Tell me how it tastes later, ‘kay?”

“Val, honey,” Ma interjected, “Mr. Daimon called, and he said that all the costs will be covered by the school – it’s part of the scholarship contract.”

“Yeah,” Dad said. “I checked the contract, and it confirms what Mr. Daimon said. So everything medical, or medically related – the school will cover.”

“Oh, Ma, Dr. Griffin mentioned something we didn’t think about. About changing my name and gender on my papers officially. She said the school will take care of it, but it’s not ‘medical.’ Dad? Can you contact Mr. Daimon, and if you can confirm it?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow, Val,” Dad said.

“Val?” Ma said. “Have you thought of what you want your new name to be?”

“Yeah, Ma. After thinking of it, I thought of ‘Faye Valentine.’ It sounds great, and I can still be ‘Val’ to everyone.”

“That sounds like a great name, Val,”

“Are you sure, Ma? You don’t mind? ‘I’m not gonna be ‘Val Edward’ anymore…”

“I love your new name, sweetie,” she said, smiling. “My new daughter – Faye Valentine.”

“Thanks, Ma.”

After some more chatting, we said good night. Just as I closed the app, someone knocked on the connecting door. That would be Dr. Castellanos.

“Just a sec!” I called. I hurried over and pushed open my door (the door opened outwards, into the other room). “Hey, Dr. Castellanos…” My jaw dropped with practically an audible snap. That was because she was in a very sexy teddie.

“Hey, Val,” she said casually. “Maia and I just wanted to say good night. Be sure to be ready by eight AM tomorrow morning. Okay, dear?”

I nodded dumbly, and she just giggled, noticing my difficulty. She gave me a hug, and that practically blew the top of my head off.

“Good night!” she said and closed our adjoining door.

Ohmigod!

I finally understood the phrase, “Keep it in your pants!” For the first time since my gender change, I found myself horny. And how! The sensations were a bit different from when I was still a guy but similar, and my vulva was feeling warm and sensitive - actually, my entire crotch was nice and tingly, as well as the insides of my arms, sides, and my… I guess chest instead of breasts since I didn’t have any yet. And I couldn’t stand how sensitive my nipples were, and how much they were standing at attention.

Is this how it feels like for a girl? For a guy, it was more... crotch centered. And what I was feeling was more spread out, though the feelings in my, um, vulva were just as strong as I used to have in my penis before, but there were more parts involved now, like the inside of my vagina, my labia, and my clitoris (which was at attention as well). Ohmigod!

Aside from being horny, I was also feeling sexy. Unbelievably sexy. If there was someone else in my room, I’d probably jump her. Or him. At this moment, I don’t really care which. Echoing Carla and Michael earlier, I was saying “ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod” over and over in my head. In fact, if Carla or Michael was here, I’d jump their bones now. I even thought, if both were here, I’d probably jump them both.

As I stood there and felt the feelings and sensations shooting through me and trying to understand them, and I recalled how Dr. Castellanos looked, I then realized that Dr. Griffin was under the sheets and in her bed! She was only covered from her stomach down - she probably thought that I wouldn’t see her. But I was standing on the far-left side of the door, toward the door hinges, which allowed me to see most of Dr. Castellanos’ room – usually, one would be standing nearer the doorknob, but I wasn’t. So I saw Dr. Griffin. And she was in a sexy teddie as well!

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!” I said aloud.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 14: Past The Border

 

Jedi Mind Trick

Before I went to bed, I had another shower – a cold one this time. The natural thing to do was to masturbate – something I’ve done a lot. But this time, I didn’t know what to do – well, the basics, of course, but that was about it. But besides that, I was a bit scared. So it was a cold shower this time.

Keeping in mind Andre’s instructions, I did the same routine I did earlier on my hair. Since I couldn’t sleep right away, that allowed me to enjoy my peach-mango pies, at least. They were a bit cold by then, so I popped them into the microwave for a minute.

Still, my… horniness didn’t fade much, so I didn’t sleep well that night.

In the morning, my cell’s alarm started beeping. Six AM. I sat up and felt a little uncomfortable in my panties. It felt wet down there. So I had another shower. I wanted to clean myself down there and I washed a little more vigorously than normal. And as I did, I felt what I guess was technically an orgasm. But I was on a hair trigger, after all. Walking would probably have triggered me.

It was okay - it felt similar to how it was when I was a guy, but after everything I felt, last night, I was expecting something more incredible than that. I guess I’ll find out later when I start being “more sexually active,” as Dr. Griffin said.

For that day, I couldn’t decide what to wear from the few things in my overnighter, so I put on the bathrobe from the bathroom, went downstairs to the van, grabbed one of my big bags, and brought it up to my room. I left the other bathrobe in its plastic bag, intending to bring that one with me – the bag said it was complimentary, after all.

From the stuff in the bag, I decided on a tight, sleeveless cutoff tee, a pair of skinny jeans, the pumps with the highest heel, and my leather jacket. I also put one of the two largest pairs of pads in my bralette. But as I thought of my outfit, I realized my top didn’t suit the weather outside and I’d be shivering the moment I stepped outdoors. So I swapped the tee with a long-sleeved turtleneck: it was like a thin, figure-hugging turtleneck bodysuit except it didn’t have the flaps and buttons that went between my legs. Well, I guess I’ll just make sure the shirt was firmly tucked into the jeans.

I then applied the minimum-makeup routine Ma taught me and then looked at myself in the mirror. I thought I looked pretty good, especially my outfit. I wondered at my choices, and I realized I was still feeling sexy. The sleep and the orgasm took almost all of the edge off for sure, but I was still feeling a little bit sexy and… frisky.

I packed all my stuff, including my new bathrobe, brought my bags to the van and went back up and surfed a bit while I waited for the ladies.

Eventually, Dr. Castellanos knocked on my door. I opened it and saw her, this time dressed more… “conventionally.” Lol.

“Good morning,” she said. “All ready?”

I nodded and held out the keys to the van.

“Oh!” she said, “I was looking for the keys. I thought I lost them. Let’s go?”

“Sure,” I nodded.

“You’re looking pretty good,” Dr. Griffin said as we walked downstairs. (Clearly, she didn’t know I saw her last night).

“Thanks.”

We checked out and then looked around for somewhere to have breakfast but the only one nearby was Jollibee, and it was closed.

We decided to get underway, with Dr. Castellanos driving, and we’d just stop at the first place we saw that was open. This turned out to be a 7-Eleven a few blocks from the motel. There was no place to sit inside, so we just took our food to go.

This wasn’t a problem for me and Dr. Griffin. For Dr. Castellanos, Dr. Griffin would hold her ham-and-egg sandwich out and Dr. Castellanos would take a bite. For whatever reason, she looked pretty sexy when she took dainty bites of the microwave sandwich. Anyway, we didn’t lose any time.

Around ten AM, I got a text message from Dad, and he said they had a chat with Mr. Daimon, and changing the name and gender in my papers was now underway. I should get some IDs and such by the end of the week, and the court order should be out by next week.

By two PM, we were already in Bangor Maine. We decided to stop for a late lunch. We found a place called Timber Kitchen and Bar, but in about thirty minutes, we were already back on our way. I put the coffees that Dr. Griffin ordered in the cup holders in the armrest beside me.

In a while, we were at the US-Canada Border Services. We were twentieth in line of maybe forty vehicles, with several others coming in. For whatever reason, the inspectors seemed to be taking their time. This pissed Dr. Castellanos off. She got up from the driver’s seat and asked Dr. Griffin to take over.

She then took off her coat, unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse, and went to the back of the van. She got one of her bags and started rooting around in it. When she found what she wanted, she started taking off her pants. Ohmigod!

She then put on a close-fitting short skirt. “Maia?” she called. “Is the road clear of ice and snow?”

“It looks pretty clear, Penny.”

“Good.” She took off her pumps and put on a pair of really tall high heels – stilettos. She shook her head to fluff out her blonde hair and then went to the van’s doors. “Here I go!”

She stepped down from the van and started walking by the waiting cars and towards the border guards who were taking their time inspecting the car in front of the line. I didn’t think we were allowed to get out of our vehicles: I was under the impression that we’re supposed to remain inside our cars. But she wasn’t doing that.

She wasn’t walking in any kind of casual way, too. She was, as Michael would have said, in full effect, hands on her waist, hips swinging and all with a runway model’s walk, with the high heels enhancing the walk.

The guards stopped their inspection and were staring at her. When she was near, she flipped her hair back.

“Ma’am?” the lead sergeant said, but Dr. Castellanos didn’t react.

“Stop, ma’am. Please! Ma’am, stop!”

She then flipped her hair again and ran her hand through her hair.

“Ma’am!” He unholstered his sidearm but, as Dr. Castellanos reached him, she put her hand on his arm. She leaned over and said something in his ear. He slowly put his gun back in his holster. She then put her arm through the sergeant’s arm, and they walked towards his men together.

The other border security officers stopped what they were doing, and Dr. Castellanos stopped a few feet away from them and said something to the soldiers. They laughed together at whatever she said. She then said something a little longer, and the sergeant and the other soldiers nodded.

She still had the sergeant’s arm. She leaned to him, said something, and gave him a casual kiss on the cheek. She waved to the others and started walking back to the van, still walking her slinky walk. At that point everyone – at the checkpoint, in the cars – we were all looking at her. As soon as she got to our van she turned back to the soldiers and gave them a wave. She opened the door and climbed in.

As soon as she did, the soldiers turned back to the car they were inspecting. They slammed its trunk closed and waved the driver to move on. They then turned to the next vehicle and gestured it forward.

“Oh, god, that was cold!” Dr. Castellanos exclaimed. “I practically froze my tits off!!” We all laughed. “Val, please get my coat.”

I got her coat and handed it to her.

“Thank you, dear.” She sat in the front passenger seat, put her jacket on, buttoned up her blouse, wrapped her arms around herself, and shivered.

She asked Dr. Griffin to switch seats. “Sorry, Maia,” she said, “but the driver’s seat has a heater, and I really need the heater.”

“No worries, Penny.”

“Look!” I pointed ahead of us. “They’re already done with the second car!”

“Whatever you told them worked,” Dr. Griffin said. “At this rate, we’ll be through the border in ten minutes. Val? Let’s swap seats. While we’re here I think I can use some of that coffee.”

We swapped and Dr. Griffin grabbed one of the caramel frappes and snuggled down in my seat. “Ahhh!” she said.

She looked very comfortable. Looks like I’ll be riding shotgun for the rest of the trip.

Dr. Castellanos inched us forward and, in a few minutes, we were at the beginning of the line. She doffed her jacket again and unbuttoned the top part of her top. Just in time, too, because a bunch of the soldiers and security people clustered around Dr. Castellanos’ window and started chatting her up.

I giggled. “Men!” I said to myself, in the same tone Ma would use when me or Dad did a bonehead kind of thing. A voice in my head, the voice of the new Faye Valentine, said that it was just another sign that I was starting to accept my new gender. But then the voice of the old Val Edward gave Faye a big, wet razzberry. I giggled – my imagination was sometimes really more trouble than it was worth.

As I was surfing on my phone to pass the time, someone knocked on my door. Huh?

I rolled down my window. “Yes, officer?”

“Border inspection, miss,” the man at my door said. “Can you open the door?”

I nodded, stood up, opened the van door, and a couple of the border people came in.

The two of them looked at me.

“Flamin’ heck!” one of them said. “There are two o’ them!”

“Nize it, Jacque!” the other said. “I apologize for my partner, Miss. may we check your vehicle and baggage?”

“Of course,” I said. (Singsong and lilt! Singsong and lilt! By now, that was like my new mantra…)

“It’s the junior version of the taller one” the first officer, Jacque, said.

Inside, I was sort of blanking on that. Really?

The second one sighed in defeat. He gestured to the back. “Go and check the back,” he said. “I’ll check this side.”

Jacque shrugged and went to the back. I followed him.

“Lots of luggage,” Jacque commented. He put on a pair of nitrile gloves (“for your protection and mine,” he said with a wink) and started going through them. He started with one of mine. “Going on vacation, miss?”

“We’re going to a clinic in Saint John. I’m going in for some tests and maybe an operation.” (Singsong and lilt!)

“You are? I’m sorry to hear that. I hope everything turns out okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Why Saint John?”

“That,” I pointed to the presently sleeping (and snoring) Dr. Griffin, “is one of my teachers in my school in Chicago. The school is affiliated with another school in Saint John – Have you heard of Troy House?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well, anyway, Troy House is like our sister school, and they’re affiliated with one of the clinics there. So Dr. Griffin,” I pointed to sleeping beauty, “is bringing me there. Hopefully, they can help me.”

“I’m sure they can sort you out. How about the other one?” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder and pointed to Dr. Castellanos. “Your mother or sister?”

“Oh, no! She runs the clinic.”

“Oh… Hey! When you get to Saint John, if you have time, you can enjoy the music festival – the one that’s happening there right now. I think it’s called the Riverbay Festival.”

“We know about the festival. That’s why we’re driving. Because of that festival, all the flights for Saint John were fully booked.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, not at all!” I said, trying not to be too much of a “Negative Nancy,” as my Ma would have said, especially in front of a perennially positive Canadian. “We’ve had a nice relaxing drive, but then again, I wasn’t the one driving,” I giggled. (Singsong and lilt! I said to myself.)

As we talked, Jacque continued with his inspection. He rummaged through my four Samsonite bags, but he did it rapidly and he was polite about it. He did turn up with my Mace pepper spray, however.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said, waving it at me. “Pepper sprays are illegal in Canada.”

“Call me, Val,” I said.

“Thanks, Val. I’m Jacque.”

“Jack?”

“Jacque, actually.” He pronounced it “Szhack.” “But ‘Jack’ is totally fine.”

“No problem. ‘Szhack’ it is then. You said pepper sprays are illegal? I’m sorry, I didn’t know. In Chicago, they’re legal if you have an FOID – which I have.”

“A lot of people don’t know that, so it’s okay. But I’m afraid I’ll have to confiscate your pepper spray. Sorry…”

I shrugged. “It’s all right.”

“We’re supposed to dispose of confiscated items but tell you what - I’ll find out if I can keep it safe for you, and when you come through here again, ask for me.” He wrote his name and number on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

“Thanks, Jacque.”

“No worries.”

He did the other bags as well, and he said everything was A-OK.

“Can I have your passports?” he said after he finished with all our bags.

I handed over mine, gently shook Dr. Griffin and asked for her passport. After giving it, she promptly went back to sleep.

“Simon!” Jacque called and gave him our passports.

“Here’s mine,” Dr. Castellanos said and gave Simon hers as well.

Simon started looking through our passports, but Dr. Castellanos put her hand on his arm. “You know,” she said in a low, super-sexy contralto, “I don’t think there are any problems with our passports, Simon.”

He looked at Dr. Castellanos, looked at our passports, opened them, and glanced cursorily at our pictures in the passports. I knew I now looked a lot different than my passport picture, but, hopefully, similar enough that there wouldn’t be problems. And then I just had a realization: in my passport, there was an “M” under Sex. Oh, no!

But Simon, after a cursory look at our photos, handed our passports back to Dr. Castellanos and me.

“There are no problems with your passports,” Simon said.

Did I just witness Dr. Castellanos doing a Jedi Mind Trick?

What is Flirting?

So, aside from my pepper spray, there were no problems, and we were able to cross the border without any issues. As we left the US-Canada Border Services gates, all the security people gave us a wave, and we waved back.

“Bye, Val!” Jacque called. “See you soon!”

I blushed pink but gamely waved, and after we were well away from Border Services, we heard someone snickering.

“I thought you were asleep, Maia!” Dr. Castellanos said, laughing. “You faker!”

“I was listening to Val’s conversation with our border policeman,” she said. “Val, you flirt!”

“Huh?” I said. “What do you mean?”

“You had that guy, Jacque, practically eating out of your hand!” She giggled.

“That’s not true!” I protested.

“’ Call me Val,’”> Dr. Griffin said, imitating me (even including my “singsong and lilt” thing), and giggled. “Val, you don’t need any help being a girl. You’re a natural! And you look so pretty. Even how you talk – very cute! Plus your outfit. Did your mother teach you your clothes’ sense?”

I shrugged a little nervously, worried I picked the wrong thing. “Ah, no. I just felt like wearing this. Is it okay?”

“Totally. Extremely sexy if I may say so. No wonder Jacque was so stuck on you.”

“I wasn’t really trying, you know. I just wanted him to get on with it and let us get on with our trip. So, I was just being friendly. You know?”

She looked at me funny. “You really weren’t flirting?”

“Yes!”

Dr. Griffin looked at Dr. Castellanos who had pulled over, stopped the van and was looking at us.

“I think we really need to get to Saint John as soon as possible,” Dr. Castellanos said.

She pulled back into traffic.

Saint John

The rest of the trip was mostly quiet. I guess the long trip was taking its toll. But it was light traffic the rest of the way.

After border control, we passed a border town on our right called Milltown. And then we went through Valley Road, Bay Road, and passed a big lake that Dr. Castellanos said was Oak Bay. After lots of gentle dips and turns, after about three hours – about Five PM, we reached Allan Cot and Spruice Lake, and then we were at the city limits of Saint John.

The sun was still fairly high on the horizon. Dr. Castellanos said in November, it would be almost sunset, but now sunsets usually were around eight in the evening.

Troy House and Archimedes Genomics were on the south side of the city, so we got to drive through the city. And after a while, we were pulling up the gates of Troy House.

We parked in an empty slot in the school parking slot. Dr. Castellanos and Dr. Griffin got their bags, and I picked up my wheelie, backpack and overnighter. “I’ll just grab my remaining three bags later,” I told them. “Sorry… my mother packed for me. I guess she wanted me to be ready for anything.”

“Wait,” Dr. Castellanos said. She left the two of us for a bit and then came back with a couple of those airport push carts.

“We keep these things for when new students come and move into their dorm rooms, or when they move out. They’re mostly used by new freshmen and graduating seniors.”

“Thanks.” I got one of the carts and lifted my three big bags into the cart, plus the wheelie. “I’m ready,” I said.

“You’re pretty strong,” Dr. Castellanos commented mildly. I shrugged.

We went in through the school’s main doors. As we did, Lots of people came out of the woodwork, as it were, some just saying hi, and a lot of them knew Dr. Griffin.

“Hi, Doc! Welcome back!” “Good evening, Doctor.” “Hey, Penny!” “Hi, Doctor!” “Hi, Doctor Maia. What’re you doing here?”

Some were proffering printouts and tablets. Dr. Castellanos pushed them all away. “I’ve just been out for four days, guys – can’t this wait until tomorrow? We’re really beat. All we want to do is have a bite, have a long shower and go to bed. Okay?”

The people let us go except for one guy who apparently was Dr. Castellanos’ assistant, Theo. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dad and Dr. Castellanos but almost was. A very impressive man. He reminded me of Mr. Daimon from back in Delos.

He led us through the maze of doors and corridors, and we ended up in what was the dormitory, judging by the kids hanging out in the corridors. We were obviously in the boys’ wing, and we just continued on to the next wing – the girls’ wing.

Theo led us to the end of the corridor and opened the door at the very end.

Theo pushed my cart into the room, and then handed me, the room’s keys, a little folded piece of paper and a laminated ID. “This is the only available dorm room at the moment,” Theo said. “It’s the tail end of the school year, after all. You’re lucky we had this one. Keep that ID on you – you don’t have to wear it but be sure to have it on you if the teachers or staff ask. You can also leave the cart outside tomorrow morning and someone will get it.” He gave me a smile. “Good night, Ms Goodchilde,” he said, and stepped outside.

“Okay, Val,” Dr. Griffin said. “We’ll come for you in a couple of hours and then we can go out for dinner.” She and Dr. Castellanos gave me a hug and stepped outside as well.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 15: Settling In

 

Shower

I sat on my bed and sighed. What a long two days! But I was here now. I wanted to look around, but it was already six. I wondered when the places around town would close. The piece of paper Theo handed me had the information I was looking for: apparently, most commercial places close at around nine, though there were many bars and restaurants open until two AM. That meant I could still look around, but then it’ll get dark soon. Guess I’ll have to talk to Dr. Castellanos about it later.

My dorm room was number W2-49. “W2” meant my room was on the second floor of the women’s dormitory. And room 49 meant I had the very last room at the very end of the roughly rectangular dormitory.

The room itself was fairly large. It was half as big as my room at home. It also had a closet built into the wall beside the door, a dresser with a mirror, a bookshelf, a study table and three folding chairs, which were folded and leaning against the dresser at the moment.

The walls were blank but clean - newly painted as far as I can tell, in a light shade of pastel yellow - except for three diagrams on the back of the door: one was a fire escape map, another was a map of the school, and another was a map of the second floor.

There was also a large window on the left wall farthest from the door. I pulled aside what looked like a set of blackout curtains under sheer curtains. The window looked out into some kind of park and, further on, to the Bay of Fundy. The sun was still out, and my view seemed wonderful. Based on the map, I guess my room and room 50 right across from me would be the only rooms with the same view. The other rooms would have views perpendicular to mine. Wonder what they saw through their windows.

I thought of roaming around the school but that might not be a good idea. So I decided to unpack instead.

I started with the big bag and hung up the dressy outfits that we got a couple of days ago. I got the underwear and stuff from the smaller bag and put them in the top drawer of the dresser, and thought about what other stuff I wanted to unpack: Ma definitely packed too much, so I decided to leave most off my things in the bags and just unpack what I needed: I was just going to be here three or four days. But I did unpack all my shoes.

After that, I decided on a quick shower and then realized there was no bath in my room. I checked the map and there were twelve bathrooms in the second floor of the women’s wing. So I guess I’ll use the nearest one – the one between dorm rooms 44 and 46.

I got some shorts, a pullover tee, my flip-flops, my toiletries bag and a towel.

When I opened my door, I saw a short Asian brunette in a bathrobe rubbing her hair.

She nodded to me in a shy but friendly way – actually, it was more like a tiny bow.

“Kon'nichiwa,” she said. “Momoko desu. Anata wa shinjindesu yo ne?”

“Kon'nichiwa,” I replied, but that was the extent of my knowledge in Japanese. “I’m sorry but I don’t…”

The girl giggled. “Gomen'nasai,” she apologized. “I sometimes do that – speak in Japanese, I mean, without realizing.” She said this with a charming Japanese accent. She was very cute. She sort of reminded me of a young Hikaru Utada, the girl who sang the songs from the anime reboots of “Neon Genesis Evangelion” (Carla was an anime fan and she has a collection of anime shows in her computer, which Michael and I watch when we were at her place).

“I said my name was Momoko – Momoko Sato. You’re new in the school?”

“My name is Val. I’m not actually going to school here. I’m just here to have some tests done in the clinic next door…” (Singsong and lilt!)

“Archimedes Genomics?”

“Yes. We couldn’t find a hotel for me, so Dr. Castellanos arranged for me to stay in the dorm for a while.”

“Doctor Penny?” she said and smiled. “Ahhh! Well, I hope it’s not for anything serious. Anyway, I have to get ready. My friends and I are going out for dinner, and I have to get ready. Sayonara, Vale-chan!”

“Sayonara,” I replied as I watched her go into Room 50.

Noting that she was in her bathrobe, and that she had clearly just finished taking a shower, I went back into my room, took off everything (leaving me in my panties), and put on my new bathrobe.

With my toiletries bag in my hand and my towel over my shoulder, I took a deep breath and walked to WB24 – that’s the bathroom nearest me. I saw some kids further on in the hall, and they turned to look at me. I smiled at them nervously and went into the bathroom.

“Who’s the new hottie?” I heard one of them say before the door closed. I blushed at that, thinking, surely they weren’t referring to me.

When I stepped in, I noticed that one of the three toilet stalls inside was in use (I could see a pair of feet) and there were two girls by the counter fixing their hair. One was a brunette and the other a blonde.

“Hey, what’re you doing here!” the blonde said, looking at me.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m new here. I just needed to take a shower?” (Singsong and lilt!)

“Cool it, Jazz,” the other one said. “Sorry, about that, honey,” the girl said. “We’re pretty sensitive about privacy and all. Bathroom assignments are based on our rooms.”

“I didn’t know. What bathroom should I have used? I’m in B2-49.” I showed them my room key’s tag.

“You are?” the blonde, whose name was apparently “Jazz,” said, a little chagrined. “Well then, you have the right bathroom. Sorry about that. All the girls have to share bathrooms – four to a bathroom, but six of us share this one. That’s why there are three of everything.” She gestured at the three stalls, the three showerheads and the long counter. “But since a lot of the girls only have one of each, they sometimes barge in here to use ours. Which can be annoying. Anyway – so, you’re new?”

“Well, duh! Of course she’s new,” the other one said. “Although you’re transferring in a bit late in the year - there’s just a month left to the semester. I’m Rose, by the way.” We shook hands.

“Momoko actually asked me the same thing,” I said.

“You know Momo-chan?”

“I just met her in the hallway,” I said. I then gave them the same explanation I gave Momoko.

“Ah. Hope everything turns out okay,” Rose said. “So where are you from?”

“I’m from Delos High? In Chicago? I’m a junior there.” (Singsong and lilt!)

“Ahhh! No wonder. One of the ten Endownment schools.”

“When did you get in?” Jazz asked.

“Less than an hour ago. Dr. Castellanos drove us.”

“Dr. Penny?” Rose asked. She sounded taken aback. “You must be someone really important.”

“Nahh… Why do you say that?”

“Dr. Penny? She actually drove you?”

“Well, yes?”

“Dr. Penny’s the most important person around here. She wouldn’t be just driving anyone around. She has people to do that for her. “

“Well, she did. But Dr. Griffin from my school – she was with us. She and Dr. Castellanos traded driving duties.”

“Wait… Dr. Maia was with you, too?”

“Yes?”

“Well, that’s something else, now, isn’t it?”

“Why?”

“Dr. Maia is the second most important person here. She’s here like once or twice a month, but she’s sort of like Dr. Penny’s number two.”

“I didn’t know that…”

“How do you know Dr. Maia?”

“She’s our school doctor back in Delos High.”

Rose and Jazz looked at me.

“You’re kidding,” Jazz said.

I was getting uncomfortable with this line of questioning, so I went to one of the showers. I hung up my bathrobe on one of the hooks, pulled down my panties and put it in the pocket of my robe, and put my toiletries bag on the shelf by the farthest shower. I turned the shower on, adjusting the temperature, and then, with my back turned to them, started my shower.

I guess I turned my back to them because that was just how I heard Carla tell Michael and me how they showered in the gym, but more because I was still shy and a bit embarrassed by my figure, given how these girls looked. Rose, and especially Jazz, were built extremely well, and I guess I just didn’t want them to comment on my figure, or lack thereof.

I started by lightly shampooing my hair and rinsing it off quickly, mindful of Andre’s instructions, and then proceeded to wash myself quickly and thoroughly.

Right then, I heard one of the toilets flush, and a girl came out – yet another blonde, but this one taller than any of us.

“Hi, Arianne,” Jazz said.

“Do not talk to me, Jasmine,” the girl said in a very noticeable French accent. “I am in a very bad mood.” She went to one of the sinks and washed her hands.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” Rose asked.

The new girl then let off a long line of crispy-sounding French swear words.

“Huh?” Jazz said.

“Boys are assholes,” she said, and Rose and Jazz nodded in understanding.

“Ahhh!” Rose and Jazz said in unison.

“Can’t really blame them,” Rose said.

“Yeah,” Jazz agreed. “They all have only one thing on their minds.”

“Oui,” Arianne said. “Deepali.”

“Huh?”

“All the boys are lusting after Deepali Patel – that senior girl in Section G? And all because she has a fifty-nine score…”

“It’s not her score Arianne. It’s her measurements.” Jazz gestured, outlining the hourglass shape of a girl with big boobs, and they laughed.

“I don’t understand it,” Arianne said, “here is cette fille sexy, completely available, tout au moins sexier than that girl, and with a very decent cinquante-huit score!”

“Well, I don’t know about sexier…” I was having a hard time understanding what the new girl was saying (I took a bit of elective French in the ninth and tenth grades), but I think I got a sense of it. But what was that? Her score was fifty-eight. I wonder what that was about. Are the kids here obsessed with their scores? And how do they even know about the scores? And what would they do if they knew mine? Lol.

Arianne playfully slapped Jazz on her butt. “Stop it, you bad girl,” Arianne said, and they all laughed again.

I tried to stop eavesdropping on their conversation, stopped looking at them from the corner of my eye, and just concentrated on my shower.

After a minute of silence, with the water cascading over me, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Eek!” I squeaked involuntarily in surprise and turned around, keeping my arms over my boobs… well, chest, really – I got no boobs yet - and I was face to face with Arianne, or maybe face-to-boob was more appropriate: she was naked with a towel over her shoulder, and she was so tall, her boobs were basically up to my chin.

I felt my face growing warm, realizing that I did a very stereotypically girlish reaction, plus, I was reacting to this girl’s bodaciousness. But then whatever rising reaction I was having was knocked down: seeing how this girl was so well developed, I realized that I probably looked like a boy next to her… But then again, just six days ago, I actually was a boy, after all.

“Alors, qui es-tu, petite fille?” she said.

“Pardon?”

“I asked you who are you?”

“I’m Val? Please to meet you?” I timidly reached out with my hand for a handshake, with my arm still against me.

Arianne looked at my hand and burst out laughing. Instead of shaking my hand, she reached out and hugged me, her boobs squishing against me.

“Je suis desole, ma cherie, je ne voulais pas te faire peur.”

“Pardon?” I said to the side of her face.

“I said I was sorry to scare you. I am Arianne. Anyway, please finis ta douche. I will start my shower as well.”

She suited words to action, turned on the water, and started showering herself.

For me, I finished my own shower in record time. I got my towel and scrubbed myself briskly all over, and then put on my fresh pair of underwear. I then put on my fluffy bathrobe and used my towel to gingerly dry off my hair – not completely, though, per Andre’s instructions.

I went to the mirror, picked out a small round brush from my bag, and teased my hair the way Andre told me. As I was doing so, Arianne came up to me, a towel wrapped around her, and with another, she dried her hair and arms.

“I like what you are doing, ma petite soeur,” she said. “Very nice ‘do.”

“Thank you.”

“How old are you, by the way? If you don’t mind me asking, ma chere.”

“I’m sixteen. I’ll be seventeen Next September.”

Arianne nodded. “Perhaps you are just a late bloomer, then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you have yet to develop, ma chere. I mean, at sixteen, you should have a more developed figure and such.”

“Arianne!” Rose and Jazz exclaimed. “That’s rude!” Jazz said.

Arianne hugged me. “I apologize, ma cherie. I mean no offense. Crude curiosity made me ask, I am afraid. But even so, You need not worry. You do seem to have something about you. You are quite attractive, despite the lack of… maturity,” she said, as a kindness, I suppose.

I blushed again. I was pleased to hear that, to be honest.

“Well… thank you, I guess. I have to go now – I have to get ready. Doctor… Penny and Doctor Maia are coming for me in about an hour or so. We’re going to have dinner.”

“Oooh, Lucky you!” Jazz said.

I smiled at that, and, after teasing my hair a bit more, I said goodbye and left for my room.

Eating Out

It was just dinner with Dr. Castellanos and Dr. Griffin, or “Dr. Penny” as the girls called her, and I suppose “Dr. Maia.” I chuckled. So I decided to pick something casual: a pastel yellow bralette (the white one was in the laundry bag with the used clothes) and I slipped in the medium-sized pads, an ivory-colored, long-sleeved knitted turtleneck sweater, a pair of navy-blue thermal opaque leggings, and a pair of white footies. When I put on the leggings, I ran my hands over my butt and felt the outline of my panties, so I took the leggings and panties off, rummaged around the dresser drawer, and found a pink g-string. I thoughtfully put it on, and then the leggings over it.

I ran my hand over my butt again and didn’t feel anything this time.

The thongs gave me a feeling that someone was giving me a wedgie, but after wearing it for a while, for whatever reason, I started to like the feeling, sort of like they were keeping my cheeks apart, and therefore sort of made me feel sexy somehow. In any case, it definitely made me aware of my butt, and it gave me a tendency to walk sexier.

I then followed Ma’s instructions and did the minimum makeup thing.

At around nine PM, when It was already dark out, someone knocked on the door, and it turned out to be “Dr. Penny” and “Dr. Maia,” and, oh, no – they were in really dressy outfits, and behind them were the four girls I met, including another one – all of them dressed pretty snazzily as well. It looks like there’ll be a lot of us eating out, and probably to a fancy place, too, given everyone’s outfits.

“Hi,” I said. I was feeling extremely underdressed. “Ummm, I’m almost set. Give me a second.”

Another sartorial dilemma… Gotta find a fancier outfit, but no time to change anymore… Wonder if girls have to go through this kind of thing all the time. Anyway, I went to my closet. I was thinking of wearing my boots and new leather jacket again, but given what the girls were wearing, I decided to pick something else. I didn’t have too many to pick from so I ended up with a blazer. According to the label, it was a “moto jacket” in taffy (What the hell was “taffy?” To me, though, I just thought “pink”), and instead of my trusty combat boots, I picked a new pair of thick-soled Chelsea platform ankle boots. Everyone was carrying a purse or something similar, but my Picnic leather backpack was actually a good equivalent. Ma made a good decision with that. The girls would comment on it later, actually, saying it was functional yet feminine.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m all set. Let’s go and eat!” (Singsong and lilt!)

Dr. Penny whistled. “Wow, Val! Great outfit.” That made me blush. “Okay, kids - let’s go.”

There was another girl who joined us, named Ashanti. And she was as gorgeous as all the other girls. Ashanti reminded me of a younger and slimmer Tyra Banks, but with a deeper, smooth chocolate-mocha complexion – super sexy. Although, my favorite among the five was Momoko, (or Momo-chan). Ashanti was second.

Arianne and Jazz linked arms with me.

“You are looking awfully sexy, ma cherie,” Arianne said. “I especially like the ‘I don’t look like I have makeup’ thing.”

“I hope I don’t look too… under-developed?” I giggled.

She kissed me on the cheek. “I apologize, Val. I was being un-generous.”

Taking a risk, I kissed her, too. “Your apology is accepted.”

“I hope you don’t mind, Val,” ‘Dr. Penny’ said, “I invited the girls along. They’re from our junior class, plus they’re some of our best students, so they’re exempted from finals. I therefore assigned them to be your, um, escorts starting tomorrow – I got them excused from afternoon classes for the next three days so they can keep you company and keep you out of our hair while we finish your morning tests, and keep you from being bored out of your gourd, eh?” Dr. Penny pronounced “out” as “oot.” I tried not to be too much of a stereotypical American and forced myself not to react, eh? Lol.

“Doctor Penny,” Jazz said, “where are we going for dinner?”

“I was thinking ‘Italian By Night’ out in Germain Street.”

“Oooh!” the girls reacted.

“Italian By Night?” I asked.

“It might not be as fancy as the restaurants in Chicago,” Rose said, “but around here, it’s a pretty fancy and romantic restaurant.”

“How did you get reservations, Dr. Penny?” Ashanti asked. “ I imagine it would be full up, especially during the festival.”

“What are you saying, Shanti-chan?” Momo said. “It’s Dr. Penny – of course, she got reservations!” Everyone giggled. As we walked down the hall two-by-two, the rest of the kids in the dorm wolf-whistled as we passed.

“Who’s the new kid?” someone called. I was beet-red at all this attention.

We didn’t walk through the boy’s wing, though, which I was actually grateful for – I mean, what if the boys don’t react as positively?

Anyway, we walked out of the school and I saw the same white E-150 van from this afternoon. At the wheel was Theo.

“Good evening, ladies,” Theo said.

“Hi, Theo!” the girls said, and climbed into the van. Momo got in and went to the back. With Arianne on my arm, we followed, and I was sat in the back, in between Momo and Arianne. And then the other three climbed up and sat in the middle seats just in front of us. Dr. Penny and Dr. Maia sat up front with Theo.

“We’re going to Italian By Night on Germain Street, Theo,” Dr. Penny said.

“Right, Doc,” he said.

“But take the long route so we can see some of the sights,” Dr. Maia said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Theo said. “All right ladies,” he called to the back, “everyone buckle up!”

He smoothly pulled out of the parking lot and hung a right. Dr. Maia pointed to the building we passed and said that was Archimedes Genomics. It was a block and a half away from Troy House, with several buildings and a big empty lot in between them.

The Genomics building itself was just twelve floors high and looked like a shorter version of the Fantastic Four’s Baxter Building in the comics. For the slightly bucolic setting, the building did have a major impact on the neighborhood.

“Bucolic” might actually be a little un-generous, as Arianne might have said, because Saint John was pretty cosmopolitan in its own right, with just enough of a provincial flavor to make it charmingly picturesque. Of course, it has its own neighborhoods that were pretty seedy or industrial - Rainbow Park, Queens Square and Tin Can Beach to name a few, which were more similar to old, run-down industrial areas of Detroit, the pre-seventies Cuyahoga River in Cleveland, or Orange County’s own Tin Can Beach. But they were not the norm – far from it. And the city government here, according to Theo, was doing its best to revitalize and rejuvenate these parts of the city. For example, Tin Can Beach was slowly being overhauled, and with tree planting programs and something called Food Truck Wednesdays, Tin Can Beach was slowly being turned around and becoming a go-to place.

Later, I asked Theo how it got its name, and he explained that it used to be called Rockaway Beach, and it earned its new name due to the historical presence of discarded tin cans that washed ashore many years ago. Today, the beach has been cleaned and, though it doesn’t look like a beach anymore, that might yet change in the near future (I found out later that Theo was one of a handful of graduates from Troy House who were locals, and as a local, Theo was very protective of his hometown and its reputation).

After a quick circuit of the town, we eventually arrived at Italian By Night. When we came in, with the eight of us, plus Theo, all the people in the restaurant became quiet and stared at us. Now, I sort of know the impact Kodikos kids have on the regular population: not that it happens all the time, but graduates from our ten schools have an “aura,” I guess (humility prevents me from saying “us” lol), that make them more attractive than normal. This “aura” would usually not be too noticeable, but when a group of transformees were together, people noticed. I didn’t know this at the time, of course, and was just bowled over that I was surrounded by such good-looking women.

Later, Dr. Penny would tell me this “aura” thing was more anecdotal than anything, but she had a theory: since transformees had many small inconsequential characteristics that make them better than most, these minute things piled up together into what had the effect of an “aura,” since there was no identifiable characteristic to account for it. It actually was one of her little projects that she said was in the works. In a few more years, she thinks she’ll have definitive data to prove it.

But for now, it just remains that we were getting a lot of attention.

We were too big a group for the restaurant’s regular tables, but Dr. Penny was able to sweet-talk the maître d to put together two tables. We then had a table that was big enough to sit our group together comfortably. Doctor P sat at the head of the table at one end – with Dr. Maia and me on either side of her, and Leo at the other end. Dr. Penny also made sure to set our table a little farther away from the rest of the patrons because she told the maître d that she was anticipating our group to be a noisy one.

It was indeed a boisterous table, but not enough to make the other patrons complain. In fact, several of the other diners would come over to our table, trying to act all suave and sexy, and tried to join us. Dr. Penny and Dr. Maia turned them away politely, but for the very persistent ones, Arianne, Jazz, Rose and, surprisingly, Ashanti, had enough sarcasm and manufactured rudeness to drive them away. For the even more persistent and rude ones who didn’t want to take no for an answer, the maître d and his wait-staff were more than enough to kick them out.

I was the center of most of the talk, and, of course, the main part of the chat was what I was doing in Saint John. So, after dinner and during dessert, Dr. Penny pulled me to the side.

“Val?” Dr. Penny said. “I think this may be a target of opportunity for us.”

“What do you mean, Doc,” I said.

“What I think we should do is to tell the girls our intersex cover story. That way, it would give our story verisimilitude.”

“Veri-what?”

“It will make our story sound more real,” she chuckled.

“Well,” I said, “I don’t really mind one way or another. What I want, really, is just that that no one treats me like a freak, you know? And that people don’t know so they won’t keep me locked up so they can examine and test me like a lab rat, or to hurt me or my folks.”

“I understand, sweetie. The cover story is our best bet to avoid that. So. You want to try it?”

“Okay, Doc. I trust you.”

Dr. Penny hugged me. “Thank you, sweetie. Okay, let’s go back.”

“Hey, Doc,” I said, before starting back for our table, “the girls seem to know about the scores… What’s the story? Do they know about…?”

“Well, no, not really,” she said. “It was all because of a mistake on my part. I was analyzing the academic performance of our students, and trying to see if there was a correlation between that and their Kodikos scores. Which there seems to be, by the way. Near the end of the school year, I left a spreadsheet file in a portable hard drive which had a list of all the students with their GPAs and their Kodikos scores. I mistakenly lent it to a student before wiping it. The student found it, of course, and the file got shared around to the rest of the student body. So there was a clamor among the students and their parents to know what the scores were about. We were able to convince everyone that the scores were from their scholarship evaluation exams. Do you remember the scholarship exam?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It actually felt like an SAT exam. I aced it, actually.” I grinned.

“It actually was an SAT practice exam that we used,” she said. “But the exam was just a cover for us to be able to study the kids more thoroughly. Anyway, we said that the kids’ Kodikos scores were their scholarship scores.”

“And they believed it?”

“Yes, of course,” she grinned. “Why wouldn’t they?

“Anyway, we’re not telling this to the students in the other schools. We’re only going to tell them about it if we must. As it is, almost all of Troy House’s students now put a lot of importance on their Kodikos scores. It’s sort of become a point of pride for them, and now there’s a bit of an unhealthy kind of competition between the kids regarding Kodikos scores. And we don’t want that in the other schools.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I actually saw a bit of that.” That’s why no one in Delos High knew about it. “Hey, Doc?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I just wanted to confirm – you and Theo, and Dr. Maia – you guys are also graduates, right?”

“Yes. As are all of the staff in all of the ten schools.”

“Do you mind if I ask what your Kodikos scores are?”

“I don’t think they’d mind if I told you. After all, you know the real story already. Theo has a score of fifty-nine, I think. Maia has a sixty-five. They have some of the higher scores among in their batches.”

“How about you?”

“I have a score of eighty-five.”

I stopped. “Are you Erin?” I asked. She didn’t look anything like the picture I saw, but…

She shook her head. “No, I’m definitely not Erin.”

“You’re not? But you have a score of eighty-five, and Erin had a score of eighty-five, too…”

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I promise. But I think we need to get back to the girls now.”

I nodded, and we walked back to our table.

As we sat down, Dr. Penny. gave a little nod to Dr. Maia. I also looked at Theo, and by his subtle nod to me, I knew he knew the real score already.

“All right, girls,” Dr. Penny said. “I’ve asked Val, and she’s given permission for you guys to know.

“Val has a genetic condition. It’s called an Intersex condition, the specific type being something called 46 XX Intersex. It used to be called Female Pseudohermaphroditis,” and by the name you can probably guess what it is.”

Dr. Maia continued. “What it is, girls,” she said, “is that Val is genetically a female, but her external genitalia actually look somewhat like those of a male. In fact, up until last week, everyone thought she was a boy named Val Edward…”

“Like the actor from Top Gun!” Jazz exclaimed.

“Our tests on her blood samples showed that she was actually XX and not XY. After some more initial tests to confirm, we told her and her folks, and they have decided that she should transition into a girl. All the way. She’s here with us so she can have some more tests at Archimedes, and have whatever operations she needs to have. It’s a delicate situation – one that Val needs to keep confidential. Do you understand? Do we have your word that you won’t let this spread around and that you’ll help her through this?”

After a while, after everyone had had a little time to think about it, and had an opportunity to ask more questions, they agreed.

Jazz reached out to me and held my hand.

“Poor Val,” she said. “Yes, of course, I’ll help, and I’ll keep her secret, too.” I gave her a grateful smile.

Ashanti stood up and went to me. She pulled me up, and she put her hands on my shoulders. “Menya ko ukunzwe kandi ukunzwe,” she said. “Menya ko umutima wanjye ari uwawe, kandi nzakora ibishoboka byose kugirango nkurinde.” She then kissed my right cheek, and then my left, and then hugged me.

I looked at her. “That was beautiful,” I said. “What did it mean?”

She laughed and hugged me even more tightly.

“Know that you are cherished and loved,” she translated. “Know that my heart is yours, and I will do everything I can to protect you.”

I looked at her for a moment, my eyes looking deep into hers, and with tears brimming, I hugged her tight. “Thank you. Ashanti,” I whispered in her ear.

It was like a dam bursting, and everyone was hugging me.

Everyone in the restaurant was looking. Previously, they weren’t paying attention, but when Ashanti hugged me, and then the others did as well, they knew something important just happened, but no one knew what it was: though everyone was now primed to listen in on our conversation, our conversation had shifted into regular talk about school, clothes, makeup, boys, et cetera – totally innocuous girl talk. After everyone had a good cry, and blew their noses first, of course.

After the leisurely dinner (and the restaurant more than lived up to its reputation), Dr. Maia insisted we go back to the dorm – after all, I had some tests scheduled for tomorrow morning, and it was a school day.

Despite all the protests, all of us were back in Troy House before midnight.

All five of the girls hung out in my room for a while until the dorm’s RA came in and chased everyone back into their rooms.

Momoko was the last out the door, but before she stepped out, she turned to me.

“Vale-chan?” she said, “what Shanti-chan said – I feel the same way.” She then bowed. “Good night.”

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 16: The First Morning

 

After a wonderful, uninterrupted good night’s sleep. I yawned and sat up in my dorm room’s bed. I reached over to my cell phone. Its beeping was actually what woke me up. I checked and it was Dr. Penny. She said that they would meet me at the infirmary at 7:30 AM, and that the three of us would walk over to Archimedes for my tests.

I checked the time, and it was already six AM. If I was at home, it would have been my regular time to get up. Now, however, I’d be running late already. I got my bathrobe, my last fresh towel, et cetera, and went to the bathroom. I found it locked, so I knocked. Arianne opened it, and before she could start yelling, she noticed it was me.

“Oh, Val!” she said. “It is you. Anyway, I am done, so the bathroom is all yours.”

“Hey, Arianne. How about the others?”

“They have already been here. I am actually the last – I am running late. Anyway, it is all yours. You had better take this – it is my key to the bathroom. Keep it – I will borrow the others’.”

“Thanks, Arianne.” I gave her a spontaneous hug. I wasn’t thinking - it was automatic – I just hoped it was okay, but Arianne didn’t seem to be weirded out by it or offended in any way.

“Ce n'est rien, ma Cherie,” she said. “We will see you at the cafeteria?”

“Oui,” I said, grinning – I was able to use “Oui” in a sentence! Yay!

Arianne grinned. “7 du matin?

“Aucun probleme,” I said, still grinning. ”Au revoir.”

I closed the door and locked it so that no other students could barge in. I then went to the toilet to relieve myself, still unable to poop, went to the counter to brush my teeth, took my robe and clothes off, and had another quick shower. I was feeling it now and wasn’t avoiding… exploring anymore, but I was running late, so I decided I’d have some fun later.

After a quick shower, drying myself and the usual ablutions, I put on panties and my bathrobe, and rushed back to my room. There, I picked a fresh bralette and inserted a pair of the smallest size padding. Putting them on, I posed in front of the mirror. Maybe I made the mistake of picking the medium pads, or maybe it’s just how I was standing. Anyway, it didn’t matter. I then slid into a pair of bikini panties. I styled my hair, again following Andre’s instructions, and then did the minimal makeup thing Ma taught me.

I then came to the inevitable picking-out-my-outfit thing. In my short time being a girl, I’ve come to know that picking my clothes is the harder thing. Anyway, this time, I decided on one of the sundresses. I picked out the banana-yellow one with big white lilies all over. The problem was that the sundress was too thin and therefore not suited to Canadian weather. So I looked at what I could wear underneath. What I found was a capped-sleeve, white v-neck thermal bodysuit. I put it on and then picked a pair of black thermal tights. Putting it on, I then snapped the snaps of the bodysuit’s crotch over the tights. I then put on the comparatively thin sundress over the bodysuit, and then a mustard-colored cardigan. I then slid into a pair of medium-heeled slingbacks. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was satisfied with my look. I thought I looked a little bit like Taylor Swift, which was what I was aiming for.

I then checked my black-leather Picnic backpack and added my laptop to the things inside. I then spritzed myself with some of the perfume we got and went out. I encountered a lot of the kids – all of them going to the cafeteria, the same as me. I said hello to the ones who greeted me and followed them.

Unlike Delos High, Troy House actually had four cafeterias instead of just one, so I peeked inside each and found the girls in the third one.

They waved and I went over. I bussed all of them on the cheek and then fell in line going to the counter, smiling politely at the people around me. I decided to follow the lead of the girls in front of me and ended up picking a banana, a cinnamon muffin, a glass of milk and a glass of orange juice. Not as substantial as I was used to, but if this was enough for these girls, then it’s enough for me.

I went back to our table and the girls and I had a lively chat. Basically, we were planning what to do in the afternoon. The bell rang - too early, I felt - and they all headed for class. As for me, I didn’t hurry too much and waited for everyone to leave the cafeteria, and by the time everyone had left, I had finished my leisurely breakfast, bused my tray, and went in search of the infirmary.

I eventually found it, and when I got there, I found Dr. Penny, but Dr. Maia was still missing.

“Dressed impeccably as usual,” she said and gave me a light hug. A few minutes later, Dr. Maia came in, slightly puffing.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “I called up Daimon back in Delos and asked him to send all of Val’s data. Anyway, let’s go?”

We left Troy House and started walking to Archimedes. I was glad for the thermal bodysuit and tights – it was pretty cold out, but we got to Archimedes shortly.

Inside, Dr. Penny got them to prepare a visitor’s ID for me, complete with picture (someone used their phone to get a picture of me), and we went in: security was pretty tight in the building, and without the ID, I wouldn’t be able to get in and walk around the place.

We ended up in an examination lab, and I hopped on the examination table.

“Should I change into one of those examination smocks?” I asked.

“No need,” Dr. Penny said, who had put on a lab coat. “There won’t be any invasive procedures. Just take off your cardigan. Essentially, we’re going to get about 170 MLs of blood from you every day for your entire stay in Saint John, and then we’ll also be doing exhaustive interviews as well as very exact physical measurements of you.”

“Is that all?” I asked.

“Yes. We have all the scans that we need from your exams in Delos, and these are the only remaining things we need.”

“Why 170 milliliters?” I asked.”

“Only one unit of blood is safe to extract every couple of months, so we’re stretching the extraction out to three days so you won’t be too affected. In any case, we can do a lot of tests on a half-liter of blood.”

“Okay… gross, actually.”

“Not to worry,” she said.

Dr. Maia came in with what looked like a test tube with a stopper, and a rubber ball the size of a tennis ball. She then tied a rubber tube around my right arm. “Ready?”

“I guess…”

When she found a vein, she then stuck a needle on the end of an IV tube into the vein. “Ow!”

She then put the ball in my hand. “’K. squeeze the ball – it’ll help pump the blood into the test tube.”

I rhythmically squeezed the ball regularly and my blood slowly filled up the glass container.

“Okay! All done!”

I stopped and Dr. Maia unstuck the needle. She rubbed the little puncture with a cotton swab and took the tube of my blood.

“So, that it?”

“No, not completely. Now comes the hard part. Interviews!!!” She laughed like an evil mad scientist from some B movie.

I stuck my tongue out at her.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 17: The Even More Boring Part Of This Story

 

“Heehee. Sorry, Val. I couldn’t resist. Anyway, let’s start with any questions you might have while I start the measurements.” She flicked a switch and red and green lines popped all over me, like lines from a laser pointer.

“Doc?”

“They’re fully automated, and you don’t need to take off your clothes.”

“Cool.”

“So. Let me ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Have you heard the term Epigenetics?”

“No, doctor, I haven’t.”

“Well, contrary to what most people think, our DNA changes as we age. Some of these changes are part of what’s called epigenetics - DNA is modified without altering the genetic sequence itself. Epigenetic changes affect how genes are turned on and off, or ‘expressed,’ and thus help regulate how cells in different parts of the body use the same genetic code.

“People have been debating the concept of ‘nature versus nurture.’ Is a person what he is because he was born that way or because the world has shaped him? Obviously, if one identical twin grows up in the slums while the other grows up in privilege, they'd develop into different people no matter how similar their genes were. Epigenetics adds a new facet to this debate because it tells us that environment, nutrition, and social conditions affect how genes are expressed. For example, what if one of the twins was brought up by an abusive stepmother while the other grew up in a house full of pipe smoke? What if one ate gruel while the other ate fatty desserts? These can cause epigenetic changes that can alter how each twin's genes are expressed. Even a difference in diet could put one twin at risk for cancer and leave the other in the clear.”

“Oh.”

“Epigenetic changes normally happen over time, and the changes can be major or minor, and the DNA isn’t changed at all. Follow?”

“So far.”

“All right. Now, there are two parts of chromosomes that we are interested in: there are euchromatins and heterochromatins. Euchromatins make up the overall chromosome molecule. Heterochromatin, on the other hand, is densely packed chromatin.

“Some of this heterochromatin is found at the ends of DNA strands, and are mostly repeating DNA codes that help stop the ends of DNA from degrading and also help prevent DNA from shortening during DNA replication.

“Some of this heterochromatin, on the other hand, can switch between a heterochromatin and euchromatin state, depending on certain conditions. This also includes coding regions in which the expression of a gene can be turned on or turned off. Some also switch between inactive and active forms.

“In other words, Val, heterochromatin helps protect DNA when they replicate, and can control if genes are expressed or suppressed. Physical changes in a human are therefore possible without actually changing her DNA.

“The partial DNA maps in the ten Kodikos maps are mostly heterochromatin. We don’t know where these fall in an actual DNA map, but with all of the students we have, we are slowly understanding where they go. Even so, we are very far away from understanding complete maps pr the partial ones from the Kodikos Ten. Actually, we may never understand.

“As to the ‘ambrosia’ – what it does, really, is that it changes these heterochromatin components of the DNA – they fix them in place, allowing permanent changes to the person’s physicality according to, for want of a better word, an ‘arbitrary’ set of qualities in a human – ‘arbitrary’ because, although there are many qualities that enhance a person’s quality of life, some seem to not be related to survivability or enhancement of life.

“Whether or not these induced changes were deliberately selected by whoever, or if these are all a happy change of random happenstance – we don’t know. I myself don’t know either, but then if we were considering something like evolutionary scales, as in millions of years – maybe it was evolution instead of something deliberate, but then, the oldest human fossils ever found – the Omo remains they found in Ethiopia – are only 250,000 years old at best. That’s too short a time, I think.”

“So, what – some brainy humans or maybe aliens from hundreds of thousands of years ago did this?”

Dr. Penny shrugged. “I don’t know. And, frankly, I don’t care, really. But for now, I’d be happy if I could just understand how all of this works, replicate it, and share the benefits of it with the rest of the world.

“Anyway – do you follow what I’m saying?”

“More or less,” I said. “Well… maybe more on the less…”

“So. How does all this relate to you? Okay – firstly, a part of your DNA matches – a small fraction – matches the DNA base pairs carved on the Kodikos’ partial map of ‘Aphrodite.’” She made air quotes when she said Aphrodite. “That partial map was only a string of 140,000 base pairs, which is tiny – the full DNA map has three billion base pairs, after all. Anyway, a portion of your DNA matches this chain one hundred percent. What does this mean? Well, I don’t know…

“Right now, all that we know is that individuals who have parts of their DNA match the base pair strings in the Kodikos maps have very good genetic characteristics, and the ‘ambrosia’ changes how certain genes are expressed or not, and that it fixes these particular genes permanently.

“Now, what we are doing is mapping out your full DNA.”

“My whole DNA?”

“Normally, we don’t map the entire DNA – just those genes that were switched on or off by the ambrosia – after stabilization, they’d now be permanently switched on or off. And, going by the hundreds of thousands of Endowment graduates, they’ve been switched on or off for the better.

“A big portion of the work of Archimedes Genomics is identifying these particular genes that were affected, and then we share this information to other genomic labs across the world, and they, in turn, use this information to create cures for various things, or to improve things for people. So far, we’ve shared thousands of these, and our track record is so far one hundred percent. Soon, we hope to find a universal cure for cancer or AIDS or the other scourges that humans are experiencing.”

“Wow…”

“Anyway, what we’ll mostly be doing with your blood is, first, to compare it with your old DNA map before the application of ambrosia, and identify which genes were turned on or off. Second, we’ll map your entire DNA and perhaps use the map as an eleventh Kodikos map – we don’t know if we’ll be doing that yet. Right now, this isn’t an easy thing, and we’d need a lot of your ‘new’ blood.” She again made air quotes on “new.” “We don’t really need half a liter of your blood, but it’s good to have some as spare.

“With a hundred percent match, we’re expecting a windfall of identified genes. Looks like Aristotle Endowment will be getting a big infusion of funds soon, and we can do so much more!”

“Why is that?”

“Well, we patent the genes we identify, and we get paid every time our gene patents are used. And we, of course, funnel this to the Endowment, and help keep our schools running.”

I shrugged. “Cool, I guess?”

“Yeah. Cool.” She giggled.

“But, Doc, Even with this epigenetics thing, does it really explain why my gender changed?”

“Our information, and the state of the art in the industry, can’t explain it. Gender isn’t really something that can be changed epigenetically, so we don’t understand. Hopefully, these interviews and the analysis of your blood can explain it. We’re interfacing with a lab in Oregon called Globa Dynamics – they’re doing pretty advanced genetic work over there. Hopefully, we can get more data from them that can help us out.”

“Well, I’m completely in your hands, Doc.”

And then Dr. Penny did a very thorough interview. It felt more akin to a psychoanalysis session than anything (as I knew psychoanalysis to be – I haven’t been to a therapist or psychologist ever, after all). I didn’t understand how this could help, but I trusted her. In any case, after this three-hour “session,” I actually felt great, and I discovered things about me that made me understand things about myself a little better, and maybe help me be a better “me.”

Dr. Maia came in.

“Hey, Val?”

“Yes, Doc?”

“Have you lost some weight?”

“Not as far as I know?”

“Well, you are approximately fifteen pounds lighter than what you weighed during your last PE weigh-in three weeks ago…”

“I am?”

“How has your bowel movements been the past week or so?”

“Um,” I said embarrassedly, “actually, I haven’t gone for a week now…”

She looked a me critically. “Okay, stand up and follow me.”

I jumped down and she led me to a weigh scale. “Yes, you did lose fifteen pounds since four days ago.” She then had me take off my slingbacks and had me stand against the wall with a scale on it.

“How tall are you?” she asked.

“I’m around five-ten.”

“That’s what I got four days ago. I’ll give you an extra inch. Do you mind if you take off your top?”

I took off my sundress, leaving me in my bodysuit and tights.

“Can you take off the bodysuit as well?”

I was still shy around girls, but this was Dr. Maia and Dr. Penny, so I took a deep breath, reached underneath me, unsnapped the crotch of my bodysuit and skinned it over my head.

She looked at me critically again, or more specifically, at my chest.

“Can you take off your bralette as well?”

I nervously reached in front and unhooked it.

“What’s your cup size?” she asked.

“Triple A,” I said in embarrassment. “As flat as can be.”

“Do you mind?” she asked, and before I could answer, she had her hands on my chest. I was so shocked I couldn’t react. Dr. Maia then started massaging my chest, and before I could put my brains back in my skull, she stopped and stepped back.

“You’re not a triple-A,” she said. “You’re more an A-cup, or maybe a B.”

“Nah,” I said. “I’m completely flat.”

“I beg to differ. Penny?”

Dr. Penny came over bringing a hand mirror. She aimed it at my chest, and I could actually see some tiny boobies. What!

“Didn’t you notice?” Dr. Maia said.

I thought back. “When I was getting dressed this morning, I put in the small pads in my bralette, but I thought I might have made a mistake and put in the larger pad ‘coz it was, y’know, too perky…”

“And that’s just today?”

“Yes.”

“How about yesterday?”

“I didn’t notice anything.”

“Penny?”

“Her transformation has started,” Dr. Penny commented.

“But it’s only been a week!”

“I guess we can throw all of our standards and yardsticks away,” Dr. Penny said. “At least with Val.”

“What’re you saying, Doc? I asked, worried.

“Well, Val,” Dr. Penny said, “in our experience, the transformation should start maybe three weeks or a month after ambrosia, and the changes would be minute and not noticeable. Full stabilization should be between six and nine months. That’s why we usually apply the ambrosia at around the beginning of the school year, so at the end of the year, the student would be fully stabilized by then. At this rate – Maia what do you think?”

Dr. Maia shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. What is it now? End of March? I guess you’d be done cooking by June or July. Or maybe August at the outside.”

“That quick?” I said.

She gestured at my budding boobs as if it answered Dr. Penny’s question.

“Three months…” Dr. Penny murmured.

“Maybe four…” Dr. Maia said.

“That’s damn quick.”

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 18: A Personally Guided Tour

 

The Story on Drew’s New Friends

Before twelve, Dr. Penny and Dr. Maia wrapped up today’s session and shooed me out. When I stepped outside, I heard my cellphone ping with a text message.

The texter wasn’t in my address book, but I still opened the message.

“Hey, Val,” the text said, “This is Rose. Dr. Penny gave me your number. Hope you don’t mind. Anyway, classes will be over in a while. Let’s meet outside in the parking lot in twenty minutes? Dr. Penny said we could use the white van, and then I could drive for us. You good with that?”

“Hey, Rose,” I texted back. “Sounds like a plan. See you in a while.”

I took my time walking back. Dr. Penny and Dr. Maia had given me a lot of food for thought and I rolled them around my head. I guess I am getting used to the idea of being a girl, and by July or August, my changes will be done. Ma will like that, I think.

The two doctors and I made a new plan, and I guess it was good that I was meeting up with the girls.

I got back to the school just in time, and all five of them were hanging out by the van.

“Val!” Ashanti exclaimed when she saw me. “Val mukundwa!” She rushed to me and wrapped her arms around me.

I grinned. “Good morning, Ashanti.”

“You are well? How goes things?”

“If you’re asking about my tests and such, it went well. I do have some news…”

“Well, come and tell us.” She pulled me to the others and another set of hugs.

“Cherie,” Arianne said. “How are things?”

“Later, Arianne,” I said, with a small grin and a little hug to take out the sting of my words. “Can we have some lunch first? Dr. Penny and Dr. Maia have had me in their clinic all morning.”

“Of course,” she grinned.

Rose drove us to a place called Decimal 81. On the outside, it was all new and fancy – black awnings and red doors. On the inside, though, peeling plaster with red brick showing in places was artfully preserved, and the place was festooned with strings of bright yellow lights, and bright red and yellow flowers in planters on the windowsills. I liked it.

Arianne said it was her treat and ordered for us. Arianne would do that all the time. That’s because she was filthy rich. Actually, her folks were rich – filthy rich in fact: their family owns several manufacturing companies and one aerospace company. So treating us out to all the time was nothing to her.

Arianne wasn’t supposed to go to Troy House for school - she was supposed to be tutored. But a family friend was able to convince her dad to let her go to one of the Aristotle Endowment schools because their academic reputation was unassailable, their class sizes were very small (and therefore all the kids in the school got quality education), and their schools’ in-campus security was considered the best. The family friend suggested Troy House because it was out of the way, and therefore his daughter would get all the benefits of an Aristotle school, yet not be in a high-visibility location. Just the kind of thing that would interest her dad.

The other girls in the group were no slouches, either. For example, in her home country, the gorgeous Ashanti had been doing fashion modeling since she was thirteen. When she became moderately successful and wanted to try her luck modeling in the States, she had a problem. A young teenager in the States would have a hard time getting modeling assignments, so she had to stop until she was older. Her family wasn’t rich, however – near destitute, in fact. Her fashion modeling was able to improve her family’s situation enough that her folks were able to go into business and put up a small store selling basics and foodstuffs to people in nearby villages.

Anyway, someone from an organization from Greece contacted them and offered Ashanti a school scholarship in Canada, plus a big enough of a stipend to keep her family afloat. This would allow her to go to school without burdening her family, and, once she was done with school, she could go back to modeling, but in the States this time, since she would be old enough by then. She preferred to go to the Endowment’s Cape Town school because it was nearby, but the offer was for Troy House in Canada.

As for Jasmine, or Jazz to her friends, she was just a regular Midwest beauty from the boonies. But she wanted to be more than just a housewife like her friends, and not just raise a family. She knew she had the smarts. All that she lacked was an opportunity. And that came from a man who came to their house and offered her a scholarship to the school at Saint John.

As for Momo-chan, she had heard of the Aristotle school in Kyoto. In the Minami-Ku section, and that they gave scholarships, and, if you maintained your grade, upon graduation, the school would give them scholarships allowing you to go to any college or university. Being the daughter of academics, this was important to her. So she took a “scholarship exam,” and wonder of wonders, she passed. But instead of being given a scholarship to the Kyoto school, it was to its sister school in Canada…

As for Rose, it was a lot more mundane. Just like many middle-class Americans, she was all set to go to college – her folks had taken a loan to allow her to go to college, and she was sweating out the application process. But as this was happening, she got a registered letter (very unusual in the age of the internet) for a scholarship to Troy House…

And when all of them arrived at Troy House, they became close friends. They were now in their third year, just a month away from the end of term, with grades that were some of the highest in their class. For some reason, this year, they were all assigned to adjacent rooms at the end of the women’s dormitory, and since they were juniors, they were on the second floor. And, since I was given the very last room on the floor, my room was adjacent to theirs.

When it was my turn, I told them my own story, although my story was a little different (and boring) in that because I thought of transferring and when I was offered a scholarship, I ended up in Delos High instead of Troy House, my school didn’t have a dormitory for its students, and I lived with my folks instead.

I felt my story a little dry… a little glib. So I opened up a little bit about my problems with my schoolmates, both my old ones and my new ones in Delos High, that they were either too friendly in that creepy way, or that they’d constantly be bullying me, and it was becoming more and more… intense over the years. Except for my Ma and my Dad, family and friends behaved that way, too. We thought my moving to Delos would be the answer. So far it has been fairly okay. But that remains to be seen. I still had a year to go before graduation, but I told them I thought I can manage one more year, and then I’d be off to college.

Ashanti gave me a small hug around the neck.

“I am sorry, Val,” she said.

But they were also interested in how my morning went. So I told them that they got lots of blood samples and did several tests, and Dr. Penny gave me a long interview for my family history.

“They did tell me, though, that they’re gonna operate on me tomorrow,” I said, telling them the lie that we agreed on

“That soon?” Rose asked.

I shrugged. “They told me that my operations weren’t going to be too difficult. It would be finished by the end of the day tomorrow, and I’d be up and about the following day.”

“That quick?” Momo-chan asked.

“Apparently so,” I said.

“My father stayed in the hospital longer than that, and he only had a tonsillectomy…”

I shrugged again. “What can I say? They even said that you guys can come fetch me on Friday.”

Seeing the Sights

After lunch, we went around the little city and saw the sights, although I couldn’t say I was all that interested since I didn’t know much about the city and its background and was only mildly interested in its architecture or its history.

Still, I was able to see the sights and buy a few trinkets and souvenirs, and the last place we went to was Shipyard Avenue, the locale of the First Riverbay Festival: according to Rose, the city government had cleaned up Shipyard Avenue, knocking down the old structures and made it a flat, green field to be used as a park. Shipyard Avenue’s name was a misnomer as it wasn’t a shipyard nor an avenue. It was rather one of the largest industrial districts of the city full of smokey cement and brick buildings where ship fittings and parts were manufactured for the city shipyards, but when shipbuilding waned, it became one of the worst rundown parts of the city.

To commemorate its cleanup, they organized the Riverbay Festival there, complete with a temporary open-air stage, temporary floodlights, transmission and audio & video equipment, and long benches. After which, they would be knocking down the temporary structures and making the square a permanent park. Whether they would put up the second Riverbay Festival there again next year was still being contemplated - Rose said it would depend on how successful this first one would be.

They were actually planning on watching the concert later on in the evening (Jazz was sure she could get us tickets), but I begged off: as we did our little walkabout that afternoon, I was feeling more and more ill-at-ease, because I felt I was becoming the center of the group, whereas they barely knew me. I felt like I didn’t deserve it. Of course, I knew they were feeling protective, given what they knew my situation was, and perhaps felt a bit proprietary towards me. I felt a bit like a fake.

But besides that, how our group was attracting attention was making me very uneasy. Other girls might actually like all the attention, as did Arianne, Jazz, and the others. I guess I need to get more used to it.

So, instead, we decided to go watch a movie – the latest Marvel adventure was on so that was what we decided to watch. I actually felt the whole Marvel Universe had played itself out, especially after the 32nd movie. Still, we had a nice time. And after dinner, again Arianne’s treat, we went back to the dorm.

It was only around ten or so, but Momo-chan convinced everyone to turn in early since I’d be having my operations the following day.

After visiting the bathroom to take my makeup off (strict instructions from Ma) and having a wash, I want to bed. I did examine my chest in the mirror before I changed, though, and I was a little shocked. They weren’t big but big enough for me. Comparing them to the pads I’ve been wearing, they were about the size of my medium-sized pair, which would make my budding boobies B-cups. Wow. So I decided not to stuff my bralettes anymore, and just go au naturelle starting tomorrow (not going braless lol – just no pads).

For sleeping that night, I put on a fresh and comfy bralette sans padding, of course, a nice comfy v-neck tee and another pair of lounge shorts. Before putting on my shirt, I checked myself again, and it seemed Dr. Maia was right – I seemed to have lost some weight, and noticed that my waist was somewhat curving inward now. The change was tiny, and I was actually not sure, but whatever…

Before sleeping I spent some time on the computer to talk with Carla and Michael, and then my folks. I told them about my day, and my new cover story of my operation being tomorrow. For their part, they told me about their day as well, but for some reason, I wasn’t feeling too interested – it was like I wasn’t in the same place, anymore. It was all probably in my head.

Connecting Doors

The morning was more or less the same as yesterday’s except I woke up early enough so I wouldn’t be rushing around.

I got to the bathroom early enough that I got first crack at the showers. And as I finished, dried, and had my robe on, the others came in.

Getting to my room, I dressed more simply, this time – a light-pastel green crewneck tee, a pair of faded skinny jeans, and my combat boots. The jeans were a trifle thin so I wore a pair of tights underneath. With my new leather jacket, I looked pretty good despite the simple outfit.

I then got out my wheelie, took out most of the stuff in it, and replaced them with outfits and stuff good enough for a couple of days’ stay at the lab.

I then noticed, on top of the bed some towels and a note on top from Theo. He said that Dr. Penny asked him to collect my laundry. I should just leave them on my bed and they would be washed, folded, and ironed by tomorrow. There wasn’t too much of it, and besides, I had lots of changes – Ma had overpacked. Over-overpacked! But since Dr. Penny said so, I guess I better.

I got out my laundry bag. But I also had my… underthings in there. I thought if I should take them out, but I thought again, never mind – this way, I won’t have to do them. Apparently, I hadn’t changed that much. Lol.

Since I was having my bathrobe washed, I better take the new towels Theo left and put them in my wheelie. Underneath, though, was a manila envelope. Inside were a couple of IDs: a DC “Real ID,” a Chicago Student Driver ID, a Social Security Card, a US Passport, an ATM card, and a Delos High ID, all made to “Faye Valentine Goodchilde.”

Wow.

Inside the envelope was a printed letter from Mr. Daimon, on school letterhead paper. In it, he explained that these were presently all the IDs they and my folks knew I had, but these were in the name of Faye Valentine instead of Val Edward. They all had the same details of my old cards, and the picture IDs used the one Dr. Maia took last Saturday.

I thoughtfully replaced my old IDs with the new ones, keeping the old ones in a zippered pouch inside my Picnic backpack.

The letter also said that I didn’t need to stand in front of any judge, and I would get all my other paperwork, like my birth certificate, and my old school records by next week. I imagined getting that done was not a small thing, but I guess the Endowment had connections everywhere. Goodbye, Val Edward…

I had breakfast with the girls again, and as they went to their classes, I walked to Archimedes with my backpack and wheelie.

I showed my Visitor’s ID to the guard and proceeded to the examination room I stayed in yesterday morning, and Dr. Penny and Dr. Maia were there.

“Okay,” I said, “I’m here.”

“Indeed you are,” Dr. Penny said, “beautiful and fashionable, as usual.”

“Stop it, Doc.”

She smiled. “Sorry for embarrassing you, dear.”

“Besides – beautiful? I don’t think so.”

“Whatever you say, dear.”

“So what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Nothing at all, actually,” she said. “This is all a cover for your transition. So that no one will know about the real thing, including the students and staff in Troy House, Delos, et cetera. Except for us, Theo and your Mr. Daimon.”

“Bit extreme…”

Dr. Penny shook her head. “It’s all necessary to keep the work of the Endowment safe, and to protect you against… a certain someone…”

“A certain someone?”

Dr. Penny looked a little chagrined. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to let that out. “That’s not important right now. Maia? Can you bring Val to her room, please?”

Dr. Maia nodded, and we went back out into the hall and started walking down the corridor.

“Val,” she said as we walked, “this is all necessary. Otherwise, the work we are doing might be jeopardized. Anyway, the plan for today is that you’ll be staying in your own room, the examination room, and the operating room, where you’re supposed to be undergoing your ‘minor procedure.’” She made the air quotes on “minor procedure.”

“No one else will be allowed in these rooms. You have to stay in these three rooms until tomorrow morning,” she continued. “That goes for myself and Penny, for most of the day at least, since we’re supposed to be operating on you.”

“Wouldn’t that be funny? Won’t people wonder where we are? And why aren’t there more people helping you?”

She shook her head. “We’ve told everyone that Penny and I are personally handling this minor procedure on you today, and not to disturb us. So everyone will just assume we’re busy working on you. As for why just the two of us? I’m sure no one will wonder that.”

She led me to a door four doors down from where we were.

“This will be your personal room until tomorrow. There’s your bed, a dresser, a fully stocked fridge, a forty-three inch TV, cable, internet, and through there’s your bathroom. Of course, I don’t need to tell you to not contact anyone until later tonight, otherwise you’ll give us away. And try not to let anyone see you through the window.”

There was also a writing table right underneath the TV that was mounted on the wall and a round table in the middle of the room with four chairs around it. It felt more like a reasonably-appointed hotel room. I suppose they use this room for visitors and guests.

“Okay, Doc,” I said. “Thanks.”

“Penny and I will bring lunch later, and we can chat.”

“About what?”

“About anything at all. Since you know everything already, feel free to ask anything you want. In the meantime, you have the run of these three rooms.”

“Well, I think I’d want to ask about that ‘certain someone’ that Dr. Penny mentioned… Can we talk about that?”

Dr. Maia sighed. “Penny shouldn’t have said anything. But since she already mentioned it, I guess so.”

“Good.”

“There are connecting doors to all three rooms,” she gestured to the door on the wall on the right. “Use these doors to move from room to room. Don’t go outside. Also, keep the door locked and don’t answer any knock.”

“Okay. What about that other door?” I pointed to the one on the left, beside the door to the bathroom.

“That’s another bedroom – Penny and I are going to share a room since there are no other rooms on this floor.”

“Sure,” I said. I couldn’t help but snicker a bit.

“Val…” Dr. Maia said a little irritated. I shrugged, smiling, and started to unpack, and she left via the hallway door.

The “Operation”

The whole morning was pretty boring, with nothing better to do than surf, so I surfed.

The sites that I used to visit all the time didn’t seem to interest me anymore. Then I thought of googling myself – I mean “Val Edward Goodchilde” and “Faye Valentine Goodchilde.” I couldn’t find any links and references to them except for a Val Goodchilde, a former student of Kennedy Science Junior High in Washington DC, who’s now studying at Delos High School in Chicago. I apparently stumbled onto my old identity.

I was curious so I checked myself out.

The data was a little sketchy, and there were no pictures. That was a lucky break. Also, there wasn’t much information, although I did find a write-up about me on the varsity website of KSH, also without a picture. I paged through the different writeups there, and all of them were pretty nice profiles (of course, since the school wrote them up, after all), but I did notice that all of them had pictures except mine. Anyway…

“’You may have noticed Val’s name, and yes Val’s namesake is very popular, especially among movie and cartoon aficionados. Aside from being part of the school’s volleyball team, Val’s interests include photography and writing, having some pictures and small short stories featured on the school paper’s website, and is very interested in art and sculpture. Val is not with the school anymore, having availed of a scholarship. She is one of the smartest in her year. Good work, Val! We are all rooting for you!”

What a cornball piece, I thought. But then, I stopped… I wasn’t part of the volleyball team – I was part of the basketball team!

I read it through again and noticed that the piece referred to me as a “she” – it was easily overlooked since it was just only one mention, after all. But it has obviously been doctored.

I checked other references. There were only a few, but all of them didn’t feature any pictures not referred to my gender. Mr. Daimon was pretty thorough!

I checked my family and my folks, and nothing seemed to have been changed, although… Nowadays, everyone – most professionals, at least had some sort of presence on the net, at least a LinkedIn or some similar professional profile, so I checked my folks’ profiles, and they seemed to be the same, except for the fact that it referred to their having one child – a daughter named Val…

Wow, again.

But what if they checked their own profiles? Won’t they find that… uncool? That someone could easily change their online information like that? And what about the family? Won’t they ask about why they don’t have a nephew anymore and why they now have a niece…

I called Dr. Maia via cell and asked if I could contact Mr. Daimon, and she said it wasn’t a problem since he was in on it, already. Before she could ask why, I hung up.

I rummaged through my backpack and found the card. I then called Mr. Daimon’s Viber number on my computer.

“Delos High, good morning.”

“Hi, Mr. Daimon! It’s me, Val Goodchilde, Junior Year, Class F.”

“Of course, Val! How’re you, ‘Ms. Faye Valentine Goodchilde?’” he smiled. “I sent your IDs last night. Did you get them?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“What do you think? I’m especially proud of them.”

“Ummm, very nice?”

His face fell at my lack of appreciation.

“All right, Val,” he said, his excitement at my call fading, “how can I help you?”

“Thank you for my new IDs, sir. But I didn’t know that you’d be making changes to reference data.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, my data files and documents from my old school, sir – you modified them.”

“How did you know… well, anyway, yes, I did. I thought you’d appreciate that. Less issues.”

“Well, yes. Unless someone from the school that knew me checks the records and spots the changes.”

He looked at me in surprise. “You’re right. We didn’t think of that. Damn! Why didn’t we think of that?”

“My dad says, if you’re too close to the problem, you sometimes miss the obvious.”

“He may be right. I’ll call my bosses, and see what we should do.”

“Also – you changed the data in my folks’ files as well.”

“Yes… I’ll ask about that, too.”

“I think you should allow them to change the information themselves. You know? If they find the changes, they’ll probably think something fishy’s going on.”

“Yeah. That’s probably the right idea. Is that it?”

“Well, yeah. Thanks so much.”

“No problem. So how’re you doing?”

“Pretty okay. But nothing much’s happening here.”

“That’s the plan – nothing unusual should be happening. It’s just a cover, after all.”

“Mr. Daimon? I understand the reason for the cover-up. But this seems too much.”

“Believe me, Val. This is necessary.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s necessary for the Endowment to do its important work…”

“Yes, dammit!”

“Mr. Daimon? Who are we hiding me from?”

He looked blankly at me. “Who said we’re hiding you?”

”Are you hiding me?”

“Where did you even get that idea?”

“I notice you’re not denying it. So I guess it’s true.”

“Val…”

“Well, anyway, that’s all I wanted to ask. Thanks so much, Mr. Daimon. Will you call me when something’s been decided regarding my IDs?”

“Right away. Talk to you later.”

I felt a little guilty talking to the vice-principal in that way, but all this cloak-and-dagger - I was starting to get fed up with it. I wasn’t saying that I don’t appreciate what everyone has done for me, but I had this strong feeling that they were not telling me the whole truth. They can keep their secrets, but not those that affect me. I sound very self-involved or narcissistic, but the point here is that the stuff they’re keeping from me might put me, specifically, in danger. At least it sounds like it.

After my extremely short conversation with Mr. Daimon, I thought I couldn’t do much. I was dependent on what they were willing to do, so I was hoping that when Mr. Daimon came back, I might get more info.

At about lunchtime, Dr. Penny knocked on the connecting door, and she came in with a trolly, similar to the kind used for room service in hotels, followed by Dr. Maia with a tray and a bag from a nearby Circle K (apparently, there are no 7-Elevens in Saint John).

“How about some lunch?” Dr. Penny said.

“Great, thanks.”

The two bustled around the table and laid out some food from the cafeteria downstairs.

“Theo smuggled all this inside,” Dr. Penny said.

“You know,” I said, “Theo also gave me my new IDs this morning. He left them in my dorm room.” I giggled. “Apparently, I’m now ‘Faye Valentine.’” There was a melancholy tinge to my laugh though.

“Sit down, and we can have some lunch,” Dr. Maia said, and we sat down. As we dished up some food onto disposable plates, Dr. Penny cleared her throat.

“Speaking of your IDs,” she said, “Mr. Daimon called me and he said you had concerns.”

“One of the bigger things that he mentioned,” Dr. Maia said, “was that he was very shocked that you were able to find out certain things that we never said anything about.”

I shrugged.

“Well, then, your concerns as to the changes in your documentation – I think you’re right. So we intend to undo the changes, and just change your name to ‘Val,’ totally side-stepping issues about your name. As to references regarding your gender, we’ll leave them blank, and just imply that they were clerical errors. As for your school friends, teachers and everyone, we’ll just allow them to discover the change on their own. I’m told you didn’t have too many friends back in Kennedy Science?”

“Not too many?” I said sarcastically. “How about none?”

“That’s too bad. How come?”

“Well, they usually start out okay friends, but eventually, they get weird.” I shrugged. “I don’t know why.”

“Well, how about in Delos? Seems to me, there are lots of people trying to get to know you.”

I shrugged. “I’ve only been in Delos for seven months. I’m hoping it’ll go well, but I’m scared it’ll just be like in elementary and in Kennedy, and it’ll all go weird, as usual.”

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t.”

“How about…?”

“… your parents?” she said. “I think you were right. We’ll leave their data alone, and let them fix it by themselves. We can then leave the rest of your family to them, and leave it to them if they want the rest of your family to know, or just let them find out about it on their own.”

I thought it over.

“Well,” I thought, “what if you offer to do the changing of my folks’ data, and tell them, that way, nothing is missed, and they won’t be surprised if they see any changes?”

They looked at each other. “Why don’t we think of these things on our own?” Dr. Penny said to Dr. Maia.

Maia shrugged.

“Let’s have Mr. Daimon contact Mr. and Mrs. Goodchilde,” Dr. Penny said, “and make the offer.”

“What’s the plan for the kids in Delos?” I asked.

“Well, we intended to make an announcement in your homeroom class, and allow the grapevine to do the spreading.”

“Oh… I’m not too happy with that. I don’t think it’ll go well…”

“Well, if it doesn’t go well, we can relocate you.”

I shrugged. “Guess that’s all that can be done.”

Dr. Penny and Dr. Maia looked at each other.

Dr. Penny sighed. “All right. I’ve decided. We’re gonna tell you about what happened several years ago.”

“I can only assume it’s about Erin?”

Dr. Penny looked at me with some respect. “I think we’ve been underestimating you, my dear. You’re correct – it’s about Erin.” And Dr. Penny and Dr. Maia took turns in telling me about Erin.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 19: All About Val And Erin

 

All About Erin

Erin Smith was a student in the Lyceum of Victoria, located in Melbourne She didn’t have the highestGPA in her class, and wasn’t the most popular, but she was one of the students that had the highest Kodikos score in their school, which allowed her to keep her scholarship. They showed me several pictures of a pretty teen girl. But, like me, it took them a while to get a definitive score for her at eighty-five percent. And in her senior year, she was given a dose of the “food of the gods.”

As predicted, she had stabilized by the end of her school year, but she had transformed into a boy sometime during the sixth month. From pictures, the new Erin looked like an even buffer Chris Hemsworth from Thor, or maybe like The Hulk but not green or ugly.

Based on Maia’s theory, it was probably because the Kodikos map that was her match – which was that of a male god, and because of this, she became male – just like me, except that, because my map was of a female’s, I changed from male to female. None of the Endowment students change, though, because, per Maia’s theory, it only happens when one’s score is sufficiently high. The theory still hasn’t been tested, but then how could they test it? They only had a sample size of two. Maybe in the future…

One other thing that happened was that Erin had gone, well, crazy. Maybe crazy wasn’t the word, but it was pretty close.

First off, upon changing, he changed his name to Hercules. Some may scoff or make fun of the new boy’s name, but never to his face, or you’re liable to be beaten to an inch of your life.

The name actually suited him, judging by the picture Maia showed me: He was very tall at seven foot-two, very muscular, and very powerfully built. He was also quite handsome in an angry, scary kind of way, although I didn’t see that at the time, as I was pretty much still mostly male-heterosexual in my head (eventually, I’d change to a more pansexual alignment, but not yet at this time). I did feel that, from his picture, he had an angry, hard or sharp edge to him, and didn’t know if this contributed to his psychotic behavior.

He didn’t have too many friends in school, but unlike my situation, his was because of the kids’ out-and-out fear and hatred of him and his arrogant, condescending, self-centered, and self-indulgent way. Before graduation, he said he didn’t want to avail of the college scholarship and opted for the lumpsum grant. For whatever reason, his grant was released early, and he got it before graduating.

Soon after he ran away, the Endowment lost track of him - the only transformee they ever lost track of. But several years ago, they found him again: he had become a politically active behind-the-scenes campaign manager to several politicians. He had a hand in the recent political mess that almost landed the country in a new war, but it was avoided with the timely intervention of the Endowment and its various organizations - all in secret as well.

“Hercules” apparently fancied himself as a latter-day emperor, and would bully and cajole world leaders to install his own “candidate” as his puppet, and through his puppet, establish his influence and power. He would have preferred not hide behind proxies and puppets, but he knew how people reacted to him. Interviews with those he… “interfaced” with told the Endowment people that he was the worst of tyrants, getting his way by bullying and terrorizing his “subjects” (as he referred to his minions). Several of the more corrupt were threatened with being outed, while many had their family and loved ones held hostage.

However, the majority of his minions didn’t need to be “convinced” this way, as they believed him hook, line and sinker, although the bulk of his followers weren’t the smartest of citizens Many had racist mindsets or were angry and dissatisfied with the world for some reason or another. Hercules capitalized and fed on this anger, and got them eating out of his hands in short order. As for most of his proxies, they were focused on their own power and any means to increase it, and were fully committed to forwarding Hercules’ agenda and, hence, forwarding their own.

The people they talked to couldn’t explain it, but they said he had a charismatic air about him – a lot of native charisma, allowing him to easily capitalize on his followers’ ignorance, weaknesses and prejudices, making promises he didn’t intend to keep. He didn’t even worry about being consistent in his promises, often outright lying. He co-opted the sixties slogan of “power to the people,” and used it as his rallying cry, including the shorter “POPO.” A lot of people made fun of that funny-sounding almost-abbreviation, but as his “movement” gained momentum, no one found it funny anymore.

It was because of the noise that his “movement” started generating, and the near-disastrous “campaign” of one ex-governor he had caught in his web of anger and deception, and because of his pronouncements, that several countries – a couple even having their own nuclear arsenals – were on the verge of going to war with the country.

Maia then took over the narration, saying Dr. Penny might not give a full accounting of what happened next, since she was a major part of the subsequent events.

According to Maia, with the almost inevitability of war, Dr. Penny, who had her own kind of charisma, prevailed on cooler and more rational heads, and the government was able to back the country off from an out-and-out confrontation. She had also accompanied representatives of the country as they made state visits to the foreign leaders, and it was with her largely-unacknowledged behind-the-scenes influence that these leaders de-escalated matters quickly.

The government also started indicting most of Hercules’ proxies and these were soon facing criminal charges. Many were convicted though many others escaped conviction. But because of their bad press and reputations, these “lucky” ones found their careers in the limelight ended regardless.

Seeing the writing on the wall, Hercules went into hiding, and Dr. Penny and her people lost him again. As for the rest of his followers, without their leader, the “movement” lost its way, and it quickly fell apart, and all of his followers went back to their own day-to-day routines.

Without its figurehead, the POPO rallying cry became an empty one, especially when Dr. Penny let the derogatory “poopoo” version of their rallying cry leak out into social media.

Three days after his disappearance, Dr. Penny and Maia found his headquarters, which had been secret up to then. It was empty by then, of course.

It was… an unusual campaign headquarters. From the outside, it looked like a slightly smaller version of the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, except, inside, instead of an empty rotunda with President Jefferson’s statue in the middle, there were two floors of offices and rooms, all of which appointed in marble and with purely decorative marble columns.

It seems Hercules had a fixation on Ancient Greek architecture. More telling, however, were the many three- to four-foot statues in many of the rooms, and several large portraits in the hallways. The statues and paintings depicted a heroic-looking ancient Greek Hoplite warrior in complete armor, Aspis sword and Xiphos shield. He didn’t wear a helmet hence his handsome, angular, chiseled features were on display, along with his thick, long hair in fine curls. The reason this was relevant was because all of the statues and paintings were of our favorite transformee, the-former-Erin-now-Hercules. Seems he was more narcissistic than your run-of-the-mill Aristotle student.

The people in the know in Archimedes Genomics tried to understand why Hercules would be like this, but they hadn’t really come to any conclusions. Again, Maia had a theory.

“Did you know which of the ten Kodikos maps Erin… I mean Hercules has a match with?” Maia said.

“No,” I said.

“He’s actually a match for the map attributed to Ares. Ares, as you know is the…”

“… Greek god of war…”

“Yes. He was actually both the Greek god of war and courage. But the Greeks were ambivalent towards him because, though he embodied the physical valor for war, he also personified sheer brutality and bloodlust – the opposite of his sister, Athena.”

“Are you saying he is embodying the characteristics of Ares?”

“That’s my theory. Everyone in Archimedes thinks it’s wrong. There are no correlations with the other transformees’ behavior who also matched the Ares map. But we all think it also depends on their score – that there is a minimum score for these things to kick in, and we’ve been lucky enough that no one has hit over sixty-five, except for a handful. But then again, the unlucky part of it is that we really don’t have a big enough sample size to conclude anything.”

“Yeah, there are just the two - Erin and Dr. Penny.”

“No, Val,” Maia grinned. “There are three. You’re the third one.”

I looked at her, mouth agape.

I completely forgot about my score.

Maia giggled and gave me a hug. “Not to worry, Val. You aren’t a match for the Ares map. I don’t think you’re going to be like Hercules. Your map was the Aphrodite map. And Aphrodite was the ancient Greek goddess of love, beauty and passion.”

I had a thoughtful expression, and Maia tapped me on the shoulder.

“What’re you thinking of, Val?”

“Maybe that’s not too bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Maia said.

“So…” I said, “what’s your DNA map, anyway, Dr. Penny?”

Dr. Penny grinned. “I’m like you, Val. My DNA Map’s Aphrodite’s.” She kissed me on the cheek. “We’re like sisters!”

What gave Maia’s theory more credence was that Dr. Penny also matched the reputation that Aphrodite had (Maia said not to inquire too closely about it and giggled), but having caught her and Dr. Penny at the motel, I had more than an inkling of what she meant by that. I had some issues about what implied for me…

All About Val

With all of this information, Dr. Penny explained that everyone in the know was worried that if Hercules found out about me, he might want to recruit me, or have me killed or something else more gruesome.

They have done all they could to track him down but he had completely disappeared into the world again, and was probably planning yet another megalomaniac scheme. A group of Aristotle staffers have “infiltrated” the American US Department of Homeland Security, Interpol, and many other intelligence agencies, but so far no luck finding him.

In the meantime, though, it was Dr. Penny’s intention to hide the fact that I had changed genders, and to hide my Kodikos score.

“Your score will be easy to hide,” Dr. Penny said. “In all your records, your official score will be fifty-eight.” (I remembered that was the same score as Arianne’s.) “And rather than tell everyone about the gender change, it wasn’t going to be recorded anywhere and just have all of your IDs and documents appear that you’ve always been a girl. In your Kennedy Science High records, we’re also going to hide the fact you transferred to Delos – like your gender, we’ll just keep it blank, and just not say to where you transferred. Same as in your Delos records – that you transferred to Delos in your third year, but as to where from – it won’t be recorded.

“Also, Mr. Daimon will contact your folks later today, and tell them that we can assist them in fixing their documents to reflect your new identity gender. Mr. Daimon also got an idea - that, supposedly, per the Delos school psychiatrist, no one who knew your previous gender identity to refer to your old gender again, whether to you or other people, even relatives. Because it will give you gender dysmorphic feelings and make it hard for you to adjust fully.”

“How will you be able to insure that?” I asked.

“We won’t. We’ll leave it to your folks and to you to do that. What we recommend is for you to avoid anyone who knew you as ‘Val Edward,’ whether it's friends, schoolmates or relatives, you should just avoid them. If you do encounter them, just tell them you have changed genders, and leave it at that – let them make their own conclusions.”

I shrugged. “I haven’t seen any of my relatives except once or twice,” I said. “Most of them are in California, so no opportunities to meet up with them. As for friends… well, like I said, I don’t have a few.”

Dr. Penny nodded. “That simplifies things. As for the kids in Delos, when you come back on Monday, your homeroom adviser and your other teachers will make a short announcement at the beginning of class. Other than that, no other announcements will be made, and allow the student body to adjust to the news.”

“That’ll be hard for me, you know,” I sighed. “You know how kids are – I’m gonna have to be ready for some abuse.”

“Not to worry, Val. We’ll transfer you ASAP if things get out of hand. But we can’t have you just disappear. People will ask where you disappeared to. And that can be just as bad.”

“Well, why not just hide my gender change altogether, so no issues?”

“We can, but I doubt we can hide your changes. Like those, for example.” She pointed to my brand-new boobies. “Besides, you just need to last for a month until the end of the school year. It’s actually our intention to transfer you next year.”

“Where?”

“How do you feel about transferring here?”

“Here?” I was thinking I would be going to school with Momo-Chan, Arianne, Ashanti, Rose, and Jazz, and that was exciting. “I wouldn’t mind that,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Dr. Penny chuckled. “you’re so transparent, Val.”

- - - - -

Later on, after lunch, I went on the net. Apparently, Maia edited things. Sure, Aphrodite was the goddess of love, beauty, and passion – but per the Britannica site, she was also the goddess of lust, pleasure, and procreation. And if you include what Venus was supposed to be, she was also the goddess of desire, sex, fertility, prosperity, and victory. I could do with the prosperity and victory thing, but I don’t know about the rest…

At dinner later, I asked Drs. P and Maia about it, and they said they weren’t sure if I’d have to deal with the entire ball of wax. Dr. Penny said that I’ll have to observe myself as I develop, and we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there. Of course, that was easy for them to say. I suppose I wasn’t able to hide my expression well as Dr. Penny hugged me.

“Don’t worry, little sis,” she said, and gave me another kiss, “it’s going to be okay.”

Well, I don’t know if I believed her, but I can get used to the hugs and kisses…

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 20: Wheelchair

 

CHAPTER 20: Wheelchair

Val woke up the following day, after her supposed “operation,” but she didn’t feel that rested. She had tossed and turned most of the night, thinking of everything that she and Drs. P and Maia had talked about.

She was now officially a “she” – Faye Valentine. “Goodbye Val Edward,” she whispered.

She felt a little sad because who she was until that point was gone now. She wondered if being Faye Valentine would be better. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the coming day, and the rest of her new life, and got up.

The night before, she talked with Michael and Carla, as well as her folks via the internet, and she had to invent some details of what she went through with her fictitious “operation,” and claimed a little bit of pain, but the pain medication made it tolerable.

Thank goodness neither of them asked for details, as Val was too queasy to talk about it, even if it was just a make-believe thing. It was Maia’s advice to not give anyone details as it’s better not to tell them anything instead of having them pick at the details of her fake operation.

Dad told Val that Mr. Daimon called and explained that all of her documents were being modified already. He and Val’s mom had also permitted Mr. Daimon to modify their documents so that they would reflect that Val was a girl, and just identified her as “Val.” Subsequent new documents can identify her as “Faye Valentine,” but having old documents refer to her as just “Val” would minimize any inconsistencies if anyone should ask, since “Val” can stand in for both “Val Edward and “Faye Valentine.”

Val’s mom and dad agreed with this, and Mr. Daimon said he’d start the necessary document work right away.

Carla, Michael and her folks then told her about their day, but, again, she wasn’t really feeling too interested. She felt slightly guilty about that but did her best not to let them know this.

After a thorough shower, Val again confronted the usual dilemma of what to wear for the day.

Dr. Penny had given her something to wear last night. She told Val they were called a boxer’s groin guard or groin protectors. They were similar to the men’s supporters that she was familiar with except these were heavily padded all over, especially over the groin area. She didn’t include the cup protector anymore, though.

The point of wearing the groin guard was to give her a padded feeling down there and, hopefully, make her walk or sit like a person who’s had an operation there.

Dr. Penny also gave her a couple of pairs of what she called rompers. To her, though it looked like feminine versions of men’s jumpers but without the bib. She checked it out on the internet, and found it was also called a jumpsuit. They weren’t made of denim but of a stretchy jersey fabric, and the two pairs Dr. Penny brought were both XXL, in deference to Val’s supposed condition.

She tried the black pair on over the boxer’s groin guard and understood why Dr. Penny suggested the jumpsuit: the jumpsuit wasn’t tight so it wouldn’t pinch the person who’s just had an operation, and it hung from the shoulders, eliminating the need for belts.

The flare pant legs made her feel like it would feel cold underneath, so she decided to wear knee-high woolen socks, which she had one pair of in her bag. She thought she could wear them to bed but the temp in the room was okay. Thank goodness, because she had them to wear now.

She then wore the new pair of high-heeled Chuck Taylor’s that she got six days ago. The problem was, she didn’t notice the high-heel wedges of the shoes when they selected the sneakers. Val just thought they were regular Converse shoes. The heels were over three inches, but she thought that, at least they made her just as tall as Arianne. “Cool,” she thought.

When she was all ready, she put all her stuff away and stepped outside into the hall. The groin guard did indeed make her walk a little funny and a little bow-legged. Sure, it made her walk a little awkwardly, but it made her look authentically like someone who just had an operation, even though her pace wasn’t as slow as it should have been.

She had deliberately chosen to walk out into the hall so that people would see her. She thought she was being smart, until…

“Miss!” one of the lab techs that saw her called out.

She turned. “Yes?”

“You shouldn’t be walking around! You just had an operation! Hold on a sec.”

He came back in a minute with a wheelchair. It was a powered wheelchair – with the little joystick on one armrest, but it could be pushed, too.

The friendly lab tech helped her into the chair and obligingly pushed her down the hall towards the examination room, which she thought was where Drs. P and Maia were. Which was correct.

“There you go, miss,” he said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“Thank you, Dave,” Dr. Penny said. “How about you rustle up some breakfast for us?”

“Oh! Yes, Doctor. Of course!”

The tech, Dave, rushed out and closed the door.

The three looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Faye Valentine, you flirt!” Maia giggled. “What did you say to poor Davie!”

“Me! I didn’t say anything!”

“Sure, sure,” Maia said disbelievingly.

Val savored the doctor’s use of her new name, and she found she liked it.

Sure enough, in less than fifteen minutes, Dave was back, pushing one of those trolleys from the cafeteria, laden with food and drink.

“Here you go, ladies,” Dave said. He went and pushed Val’s wheelchair against the meeting table, and then put a plate in front of her, making sure her plate was laden with food.

“Coffee?” he asked. Without waiting, he poured a cup for her.

“Thank you, Dave,” she said. “I was actually thinking of some orange juice…”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” he got the pitcher of juice and poured her a glass.

“Is that okay?”

“Yes, thank you, Dave.”

Clearly, he wanted to stay, but none of the women were inviting him to stay.

“Well,” he said finally, “just text or page me if you need anything, miss. I’ll be around. Dr. Castellanos, Dr. Griffin?” He nodded to the doctors and left the room.

“Val, you little tease!” Dr. Penny said.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“If you say, so.”

Val sullenly turned to her food but, after a minute or so, she couldn’t help it anymore and giggled.

The truth of the matter was, she didn’t really do anything, so it was a mystery why Dave was so solicitous. “Maybe it’s sorta like the Florence Nightingale Effect,” she thought. As far as Dave knew, she had just had an operation… In any case, she felt flattered by the attention, and it felt fun. She felt she couldn’t really do the same thing Dr. Penny does seemingly so effortlessly, like what she did at the border, but maybe she could try that when she was more used to being a girl.

For the rest of the morning, She stayed in the examination room, with Dr. Penny and Maia coming in and going out of the room, obviously very busy with work, but when they did come in, they’d have two or three staffers with them. They politely said hello to Val, some even staying a little bit to chat, and a couple of them being girls.

Pretty soon, those staffers came back in, not necessarily with Dr. Penny or Maia, and spent most of the morning with Val, just chatting about nothing at all.

Sometime before lunch, Arianne called Val up, saying that they’d be over to take her out for lunch. Val said no, and said she’d just meet them at school just like the day before. Arianne agreed reluctantly, and said they’d be waiting by the van.

Val explained it to the doctors, and they agreed, and said they’d just meet her back at the school the following morning.

She got bussed and hugged – something she expected by now (in her mind, she thought of the two as sort of surrogate moms by now) and was about to stand.

“What’re you doing!” one of the staff techs named Wendy exclaimed. She motioned her to sit back down and started pushing her chair out of the room. Val soon found herself being rolled over to the school, with her and seven lab people around her keeping her company, and with Wendy pushing her chair.

It wasn’t that far, though, and they were at the school parking area in less than twenty minutes.

“Te voila!” Arianne exclaimed.

“Thanks, guys,” Val said to the people who brought her. “I’m fine here. See you later!” The techs waved goodbye and left them with the girls.

Arianne came and hugged her. “How are you, ma chere pouliche?”

“Hey, Arianne,” Val said and tried to stand up to greet the others, Arianne pushed her back down on her wheelchair.

“Non!” she said. You must sit!”

“Yes, Vale-chan,” Momo said. “You just had an operation. Are you sure the doctors said you can be out of the clinic?”

“Yes!” she said. “I’m sure! You can even call Dr. Penny if you want…”

“There is no need, Vale-chan. We believe you. Can we help you into the van?” Momo gestured and Jazz helped her up from the other side. Soon, they had her installed in front with Rose, and they had her bag and her wheelchair stowed in the back.

When everyone piled in, Rose hugged her. “So, sweetie. Game for some lunch?”

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 21: Last Day in Saint John

 

Just like the previous day, they went for lunch again, and Arianne treated again. They then went around again and showed Val more of the sites, with Val sitting in her wheelchair and the five girls taking turns pushing. They spent a lot of time hanging around Tin Can Beach, but mostly just talking and munching some food from one of the food trucks. They had some hot pretzels, with Rose getting a disposable boat dish full of poutine. Val tried it and liked it a lot, so Rose swapped her poutine with Val’s pretzels. Val protested but Rose insisted: she put a French fry with gravy and cheese in Val’s mouth and kissed her sisterly on the lips for good measure. Everyone laughed and Val let Rose have her pretzels.

“It’s been real fun here,” Val said, “I feel real bad that I have to go back to Chicago.”

“Except for the operation, of course,” Jazz joked.

“Oh! Yes! Except for the operation!”

Everyone laughed.

“We are feeling just as bad,” Ashanti said. “We are so pleased to have met and gotten to know you, mukundwa Val. It would be so nice if you could go to school here as well with us.”

“Thank you so much, Ashanti.”

“We love you, <>i>petite amie.,” Arianne said. “Can you not stay here?”

Val was teary-eyed. “I can’t. Dr. Penny said I have to finish out my junior year at Delos High. But she did say I could transfer here for my fourth year.”

“That would be so wonderful!” Momo said.

“You know, Val,” Rose said, “I don’t believe it.”

“What don’t you believe, Rose?” Val said.

“I don’t believe you were ever a guy. I think you’ve always been a girl. Maybe not in your body, but in your heart. So I’m glad that Dr. Penny was able to fix you so that your body now matches the real you.”

“Thank you, Rosie,” Val whispered.

“Was it bad?” Ashanti asked, gently. “The operation?”

“Not at all,” Val said. “I didn’t feel anything. It’s like I didn’t have an operation.” She giggled because she didn’t lie that time.

“Maybe just a little bit?” Jazz said. “We saw how you were walking…”

Val shrugged.

“Well,” Arianne said, “let us not talk about that for the rest of the day. Let us talk about more pleasant things. D’accord?”

“I’m with Arianne,” Jazz said.

The rest of the day was just as mellow. They considered going to the Riverbay Festival concert – it was the festival’s last day, after all. But Momo nixed that idea because of Val’s condition. Besides, Momo said, the rumor that ABBA was going to be at the Festival was a total lie – ABBA themselves confirmed that they were never invited to the festival.

From then on, everyone made fun of Momo for being an ABBA fan. Val defended Momo, saying, so what? “Besides,” she said, “I love ABBA, too!”

Everyone gave her a very big, wet, and loud razzberry, and everyone, including Val, laughed.

They agreed to go back to the dorm, and sang ABBA songs all the way back to Troy House. They were not in tune at all but they didn’t care. All that can really be said about their singing was that it was loud…

On the way back, Dr. Penny texted Val, and asked where they were. Val said they were about five minutes away, and Dr. Penny asked them to pass by her office.

Momo had apparently taken full responsibility for Val’s wheelchair, and after Val got down, she awkwardly walked to where Momo had her chair. Momo then pushed Val into the school, with everyone walking around her. It was already seven, but there were still some kids around – some having late dinner while some coming from the library.

As they walked inside, they passed a lot of people. With the six of them, all of them pretty good-looking (which was saying something, especially for an Endowment school), everyone couldn’t help but notice them. However, the lion’s share of the attention was on Val.

Val rationalized this with the fact that she was a new face and that she was in a wheelchair. The other girls were far more good-looking than her, after all. But as they were passing a bunch of kids, she overheard one of the boys asking Rose, “Hey, Rose – who’s the hottie in the wheelchair?”

- - - - -

Arianne and Jazz volunteered to bring up Val’s backpack and wheelie to her dorm room, and the rest of them went on to Dr. Penny’s office. Dr. Penny and Maia were there waiting.

“Hey, girls,” Dr. Penny said. She leaned down to Val and hugged her. “Everyone here?”

“Jazz and Arianne are upstairs in Val’s room,” Ashanti said. “They are dropping off Val’s things. They will be here in a minute.”

Val stood and moved awkwardly to sit on the end of Dr. Penny’s office sofa.

“You feeling okay, Val?” Rose asked.

“I’m okay. Just wanted to sit somewhere else. That wheelchair can get uncomfortable after a while.”

“No problem. Okay. Let’s wait for them, then. That way, I won’t be repeating myself.”

Sure enough, the two were back in less than five minutes.

“Okay. Now that we’re all here - everyone find a seat.”

Momo sat on the sofa right beside Val on the seat while Rose sat to the left of Momo. Arianne sat on the wheelchair and moved it beside Val. Ashanti perched on the arm of the sofa beside Rose and behind Arianne in the wheelchair, and Jazz sat on the floor just in front of Val.

Maia looked at the two armchairs but everyone insisted on the sofa, and crowding around Val. She and Dr. Penny looked at each other.

“Well…” Dr. Penny said, “Let’s get started.

“Girls, thank you for keeping Val company the past few days. Val’s finally got her operations, and she’s totally okay. The operations were fairly straightforward and simple, and it only took only a few hours. She’s fine and on the way to a full recovery. In a couple of days, she’ll be back to one hundred percent.”

“Yay!” everyone cheered.

“We do have some news that we’re sure you’ll all be interested in. Next year, Val will be transferring over here…. Well? I was hoping for more of a reaction than that!”

Arianne looked at them. ”Oui? Dites-nous quelque chose que nous ne savons pas.”

“What did you say, Arianne?” Maia asked.

Momo cleared her throat, somewhat embarrassed. “Ari-chan said that Vale-chan told us that already.”

“Okay… Well, other than that we’ll be asking you for a big favor, on behalf of Val.”

Except for Val, all the girls were looking at her intensely. Val looked a trifle embarrassed.

“Yes, Dr. Maia?” Ashanti said. She put a hand on Val’s shoulder.

“Girls!” Maia said. “Don’t look so worried! It’s nothing bad. But our school psychiatrist said that it would help Val adjust to her new gender identity if her old gender and name weren’t mentioned anymore. It’ll go a long way in preventing any gender dysmorphic tendencies. Val also agrees. She thinks that it’ll help her a lot.

“So what does that mean? It means you don’t tell anyone about it – to your classmates, your teachers, your friends, your family, and especially to Val herself. And you refer to her as Faye Valentine, or Val – never Val Edward. All the time. There are no problems with the rest of the school. It was also lucky the staff at Archimedes don’t know anything – because of their straightforwardness and simplicity Dr. Castellanos and I were able to do Val’s operations on our own without assistance. So all that the people over there know is that Val had to have an operation, and that’s about it. They also know Val as Kaye Valentine and no one else. So… Val?”

Val nodded. “Yeah… Dr. Maia’s right. I’m not Val Edward anymore. I’m Faye Valentine now. Can you help me be Faye Valentine?” And she burst out crying.

And the girls crowded around Val for a hugfest.

Dr. Penny and Maia looked at each other.

- - - - -

Dr. Penny had bid the girls good night, and when they had all gone, Maia looked at Dr. Penny.

“What do you think of that?” Maia asked.

“What do you mean,” Dr. Penny said.

“Don’t you see how Val is now?”

“What do you mean?” She repeated, not understanding it completely.

“The reaction of the staff to Val this morning, and the girls just now. The solicitous, almost-fawning friendliness. And I just bet, if you asked Val, she’d say she’s not doing anything to make them act like that. How about you? Did you have that kind of thing when you were stabilizing?”

“My own magnetism is my own, not from my transformation,” Dr. Penny said haughtily. Maia looked at her and, after a beat, she gave her a big, wet razzberry. They laughed.

No, Penny,” Maia said after getting herself back together. “I’m being serious. Did you?”

Dr. Penny shrugged. “Not really, Maia. Aside from my, ummm, babeliciousness, I don’t think I have any aura. Although it’s easy to get people to do what I want. But it’s more because of my… babeliciousness…”

“You are so full of yourself.”

Dr. Penny shrugged. “Sorry, Maia,” she grinned. “People are looking for a sexy blonde. I just act the part when I want to get my way. Don’t you do it, too, after you stabilized?”

“Well, yeah. You have to use what’s available, you know. We women still have to work against stereotypes, so you do what you can. But again, my own Kodikos map was Metis, who was more known for being smart and clever. Unlike the goddess of looove!” Maia giggled.

Dr. Penny grabbed Maia around the waist. “You’re selling yourself short again,” she said. “You are one of the most babelicious people around, my love.” Dr. Penny said and kissed her.

“Don’t get me distracted, my love,” Maia said. “What I’m saying, Penny, is that Val doesn’t need to do anything. She just… is…”

Penny looked at her. “Do you think she is the second coming of the gods?”

“I don’t know, Penny. But, in any case, until she’s stabilized and she’s used to things, we have to keep her status hidden. That war-freak ‘Hercules’ might find her, and who knows what he’ll do if that happens.”

“That’s what we’re doing, right? Aside from getting her stabilized and getting her used to her new self…”

Maia nodded.

At the moment, the subject of their discussion was at one of the cafeterias having dinner with her new friends, and doing nothing more complicated than being a teenage girl.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 22: Back In Chicago

 

Bye

The following day, Val woke up early so that she could get a crack at the bathroom ahead of the girls. As it is, she had just finished her shower, put on her panties and groin guard, and then her bathrobe, when the others came bustling in.

“Val!” Arianne exclaimed. “What are you doing! Momo, get her wheelchair.”

Momo-chan sped to Val’s room and came back in less than a minute with her wheelchair, and the girls helped her into it.

“Guys, this is getting too much,” Val said after she was helped into her wheelchair. “I can take care of myself!”

Jazz kissed her on the cheek. “We know that, sweetie. Just indulge us, okay? Soon, you’ll be done getting well and you won’t need the wheelchair.”

“Okay…” Val grumbled and allowed Momo to push her back to her room.

“I’m sorry, Vale-san,” Momo said after parking her in front of their dresser. “I’m sure you’re getting frustrated, but it’s just for a little while. Dr. Penny said you will be back on your feet in a couple of days. But you have to rest and not strain yourself.”

Val reached up and brought Momo’s head down so she could give her a hug around the neck. Momo might not be too into the hugging and everything, but she didn’t mind this time.

“I know it,” Val said. “I’m sorry for being such a surly patient. Thank you for taking care of me, Momo-chan.”

“It is my pleasure, Vale-san,” she grinned. “Now, I have to get back to the bathroom or someone will beat me to the showers.” She rushed out of the room.

Val selected the khaki-colored jumpsuit this time, and wore the white form-fitting turtleneck which Theo got someone to wash, and matched it with some wolly socks and the Chuck Taylor sneakers again. She also got all of her stuff packed and by the time the girls came back, she was all ready to go.

“I’m all set,” Val said from her wheelchair. Would you guys mind, and help me get to the van?”

Rose left and came back with one of those airport baggage carts, and the girls helped and piled it with Val’s three big bags. Ashanti got the wheelie and Val had her backpack and pink blazer on her lap. Holding on to Arianne’s hand, she left her room with her new friends, and went downstairs. Many of the girls in the dorm watched them pass, and Val smiled at them.

Pretty soon, after a quick breakfast in the cafeteria, they were in the parking lot again. Theo was there to help load the bags into the van. He also got the wheelchair and, after pulling a couple of handles, he was able to collapse the chair into a third of its width. He deftly put it in with the other bags, smiled, and went to the front.

“So,” Maia said. “All set?”

“Sure thing, Doc,” Val said.

She turned to the others. “Well, that’s it guys. See you next year then.”

Some of the girls started to cry, especially Momo.

“Stop it, guys,” Val said. She went to Momo. “Don’t cry Momo-chan. I’ll be back. Next semester will be here before you know it. So no crying, okay?”

“Okay, Vale-san,” Momo sniffed.

Val gave each a kiss and a hug, and climbed into the van.

Maia then climbed in after Val and waved.

“See you girls later,” she said, and closed the door.

Val turned to look at them as they pulled away. She waved and they waved back.

Lobsters and Salmon

It was pretty quiet in the van. To break the uneasy silence, Theo turned the car stereo on. He played subdued pop-jazz music, and turned the quiet into a much friendlier kind of quiet.

“I love Depapepe,” Val mumbled.

“You do?” Theo said. “Me, too! I love ‘Start’ the best myself.”

“You’re playing ‘Sunshine Surf,’ right?”

“Yep! To me, it’s the best driving music. Very peppy.”

“I don’t know about that,” Val said. “Have you heard ‘Summer Parade?’”

Theo laughed. “That’s actually queued up next.”

Val giggled. “Cool.” They then had a long discussion about music and bands, and Theo mentioned a band called “Dead Man Fall,” and played a song from them called “Bang your Drum.”

“Cool,” Val said as she listened to the song.

Dr. Penny leaned over and whispered to Theo. “Thank you, dear. You got Val out of her funk.”

Theo shrugged. “No problem,” he whispered back. “I just got lucky.”

“Oh, no!” Val suddenly exclaimed. Penny and Maia turned to her in alarm.

“What, Val!” Penny said.

“Ummm… I just realized I forgot to buy any souvenirs or anything like that for my folks…”

And everyone broke out laughing. Val gave them a sour look.

“No problem, Val,” Theo said. “If you look in the back, there are three sealed styrofoam packing boxes there. Those are a couple of lobsters and a large salmon packed in ice. By the time we get you home, the ice’ll be half melted, but they’ll still be good, and the boxes are meant not to leak. There’s also a big plastic grocery bag there full of packages of dulse seaweed chips.”

“But, Theo,” Val said, “these are yours – I can’t take them! Aren’t they meant for someone?”

“Yes, you can. I bought them just in case, you know? So, please – you’re welcome to them. I’m sure your folks will like the seafood.”

“Well… are you sure?”

“Sure, I’m sure. My pleasure, sweetie.”

Val went forward, hugged Theo around the neck from behind, and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Theo.”

“You are very welcome, sweetie.”

She returned to the back. Theo and Penny gave each other a look. “Whoa,” Theo whispered to Penny.

“Guys,” Val called, “if you see a gas station, can we stop? I wanna take off this guard thing. Is that okay, Doc?”

“Sure, sweetie. Best to get comfortable - we have a long drive, eh? But If I remember right, there won’t be any stations or rest stops until after we’ve gone past border control. Can you last ‘til then?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Hey, maybe your friend, Jacque, will be on duty.”

“That’ll be good, I guess... I’m a little worried about that, though.”

“Why?”

“Well, I don’t understand a guy acting that way.”

“Acting what way?” she giggled. “Val, he was just trying to get on your good side.”

“But I’m not exactly a looker. He must be pretty hard up or something…”

“Not at all, Val! You’re very pretty.”

“Sure, sure,” she answered, not believing her.

“Well, don’t worry about Jacque, okay? If he gets too fresh, Maia and I will take care of him.” She made a mock gesture of slapping someone’s butt.

“Ummm… ’kay?”

Jacque Again

In just a few hours, they were back at the US-Canada border, and knowing the situation, Penny doffed her jacket. She was wearing a gray turtleneck very similar to Val’s. She was also wearing a very, very, very form-fitting pair of leather leggings and a pair of stiletto boots. This time, her top and pants were thermal; she clearly remembered the freezing conditions by the gates.

When they got to border control, one of the security people who met them was one of those who met them before. With a quick call on his walkie-talkie, the other guards from before rushed up to Penny’s window, including Simon and Jacque “to say hi.”

“Good morning, Dr. Castellanos!” Simon said.

“You remembered my name, Simon!” Penny giggled sexily. “I’m flattered.”

“Is Val with you?” Jacque asked.

“Yes, she is. Val?”

“Yeah, Dr. P,” Val said and reluctantly stepped out of the van. She struck up a conversation with Jacque and the other guards (singsong and lilt!), and true to his promise, Jacque gave back her Mace pepper spray. He did make her sign a form and had one of the other guards co-sign as a witness.

“Oooh!” the others reacted. Knowing Val was just sixteen, they kept their conversation completely above board and innuendo-free.

Val thanked Jaque and pocketed the pepper spray and form in a pocket of her jumpsuit. Jacque noticed her awkwardness, and she said it was nothing – just some leftovers from her operation. Jacque offered his arm. Rather than turning him down and being fully aware that they were at the border, she decided not to alienate Jacque and accepted the offer of an arm.

After a few minutes of chit-chat, Penny, Maia and Theo stepped out as well.

“Sorry, Val,” Penny said. “They asked us to step down so that security could inspect the van.” A couple of the new guards tipped their hats and stepped into the van.

“Oh!” Theo exclaimed, and rummaged through his jacket pockets.

“What’s wrong?” Maia asked.

“This is the receipt for the salmon and lobster,” Theo said. “Also a couple of forms from Agriculture and Agri-Food and Fisheries and Oceans. It’s so we can bring them through the border. Excuse me, eh?” He went back in.

“So, Simon,” Penny said, “how’re you doing.” And, just like she did before, charmed the pants off the guards.

Val tried to be a credit to Penny and acted like the innocent but sexy ingenue, and between them, the inspection went without a hitch. Val whispered to Penny if she should use her new passport.

“Of course, Val.”

So she handed her new passport with those of Penny, Theo, and Maia, and, it was no problem at all.

In a short time, they were on their way.

They stopped at an Esso gas station, allowing her to take off the groin guard in their restroom, and was back in a jiffy. They waited for Theo, who had gone to the Tim Hortons next door. He was back shortly, laden with half a dozen Double Doubles and several bags of assorted Timbits.

Val got one of the bags, as well as one of the Double Doubles. They turned out to be a bag of assorted donut holes and a coffee with two creamers and two sugars. She grinned at the names, settled down beside Maia, and enjoyed her Venti double double and Timbits.

While on the way to Bangor Maine, Theo said that he could drive them straight, without a need to check in at a hotel, and they’d be back in Chicago by six AM.

“Is that safe?” I said. “I think we should…”

“That’s a great idea, Theo,” Maia said. “Penny?”

“Sure,” Penny agreed. “You just let me know if you need me to spell you, okay?”

“Doc,” Val whispered to Maia, “is this a good thing? Theo’s gonna need…”

“Not really, Val. Theo will be fine.”

Val looked at her. “If you say so…”

And, indeed, Theo drove them for the rest of the day and through the night. They did stop for gas, food and bathroom breaks but, otherwise, Theo drove for them straight. Val spotted another Jollibee, and they had an early dinner at that place with the big bee. This time, Val didn’t get another “yumburger,” and got something called a “palabok.” It was very good, but she thought she should have gotten a yumburger instead. This time, though, she bought half a dozen of those “peach mango pies” to go, justifying it by saying they were all out of Timbits.

At around eleven, Val took the entire back seat to sleep in. After Val had fallen asleep, Maia clicked seatbelts around her and tucked a blanket she got from her luggage around Val, and, with Theo’s smooth driving, it was no surprise that Val slept through the night.

At around four, Val was awakened with a light kiss on the cheek and a gentle shake.

“Wakey-wakey, Valentine,” Maia said. “You’re home.”

Val sleepily opened her eyes. “I am? What time is it?”

“Just a little after four, hon.” Maia unclicked the seatbelts around her and her sat up. It was still dark out, and they were parked just outside their house. Val sleepily stood, put on her shoes and jacket, shouldered her backpack and stepped out of the van with Maia.

Theo and Penny were at the curb, standing with her luggage.

“Can I borrow the house keys?” Theo asked and Val handed them over.

Theo then brought her four bags up the front steps and into the house. He also brought in the three Styrofoam crates as well as the grocery bag full of the seaweed chips plus her wheelchair (Maia had said to use the chair as much as possible and to wear the groin guard until Sunday evening - for the benefit of her parents. But after that, Maia will send someone to pick them up).

“’Kay. You’re all set,” Theo said.

“You haven’t forgotten anything?” Maia asked.

“I don’t think so,” Val answered.

So after hugs all around, Penny, Maia, and Theo said goodbye and sped off, presumably to a hotel or something to get some rest, and then to Delos High.

“See you at school on Monday!” Maia called.

Val looked at the departing van and waved. It had certainly been a long week, she thought, and lots of things have happened. But she was hopeful for a better future.

She stepped into the house and locked the front door.

She smelled the familiar smells of home, and touched the familiar things in the living room. The house felt different somehow, but she thought maybe it was because of the absence of lights. She switched on the living room lights and lit up the room. It still felt a little different, but it finally clicked into place – that she was home.

She tried lifting the big bag upstairs but found it difficult because of its unwieldiness, so she decided to leave her bags at the foot of the stairs.

She trudged upstairs to her room and switched on the lights. She looked around, surveying her somewhat messy room, and it had the flavor of… of Val Edward. Which felt a little weird somehow. She decided she needed to make some changes.

She looked into her dresser drawers and cabinets and was surprised to find almost all of Val Edward’s clothes gone. Except for a few things like t-shirts, tank tops, crewnecks, sweatshirts, sweatpants, and socks, everything was gone. As for her closet, all that was left were some jeans, slacks, and jackets.

She was about to yell, “Ma!” but caught herself in time. It was not even five AM, and she was sure her parents were still asleep. She’s gonna have to ask her mom later.

So Val took out the clothes from her wheelie and hung them up.

She also decided to transfer all of her new stuff from her bags. She made several trips up and down the stairs and she soon had all of her stuff transferred, segregating the handful of items that needed to be washed. She put all the dirty clothes in the washer, plus all of the pads for her bralettes (she realized she hadn’t washed any of them the whole time), but because Theo washed all of her dirty clothes on Thursday, there weren’t too many of them left. So she went upstairs and changed out of what she was wearing, changed into her old sweatpants and the joke No. 51 Chicago Bears jersey that Carla and Michael gave her for Christmas. 51 was Dick Butkus’ number. Not that he wasn’t a great player back in the day – he was one of the Bears’ greatest players from the seventies - but Val was famously known for not being a football fan, and she found his name hilarious. So they gave her a copy of his jersey for Christmas.

She also wore another of her bralettes – no more padding, anymore this time. She wasn’t intending to, but the jersey felt scratchy on her nipples, so the bralette helped. She sighed as she put them on, and resigned herself that bras would be a permanent part of her future from now on.

She also took off the groin guard and included it in the clothes she brought downstairs. There were instructions on the back of the waistband and the instructions indicated she could include them with the rest of the wash.

As the clothes went through their cycle in the machine, Val took a quick shower. She hadn’t showered this often as she did this past week – daily, sometimes twice a day. But it was just how it was now. The one thing that she found disappointing was, as she rubbed her hair dry, she had essentially washed away her new hairdo. But that was okay – Andre was just around.

By the time she had gone back downstairs, the clothes were all dry. For those that needed ironing, she hung them on the outside of the closet. For the rest, she folded them and put them inside her dresser and cabinets. She put on the newly washed and still-warm groin guard. She wished she didn’t have to wear it but was glad it was only until that night.

It was only five thirty in the morning, and she knew Ma and Dad would get up at around seven or so on Sundays, so she decided to get a couple of hours of shuteye. Setting her much-missed alarm, she slid under the covers and shut her eyes. She didn’t know how tired she still was and fell asleep almost instantly.

- - - - -

“Wakey-wakey, Valentine.”

“I’m awake, Dr. Maia,” Val said sleepily. She realized that she wasn’t in the van anymore, and she snapped her eyes open. “Ma!” she exclaimed.

Ma leaned down and kissed her on the nose. “Good morning, sweetie. You must really have been tired. Feeling rested now?”

“What do you mean? What time is it?”

“It’s half past eleven. It’ll be lunch soon. Dad’s cooking one of the lobsters you brought. Thanks for those, by the way. So – up, up, up!”

Val shook the bedclothes off and got up.

“T’sk, t’sk, t’sk,” her mom said.

“What?”

Her ma reached out to finger a lock of her hair. “You didn’t blow dry before going to bed, huh?”

“Well, no… does it matter?”

Her ma pulled her to her bedroom mirror.

Val saw her hair mussed on one side and totally flat on the side that she slept on. “So? I just need to comb it out.”

Ma giggled. “Try it.”

Val did and, despite all her combing, it really didn’t fix her hair.

“Try this,” Ma said and handed her a round brush.

Val did, and it was better.

“Good!” Ma said. “Let me teach you something – you get your hair wet, and then blow-dry it and brush it out as you do.”

“’kay. But this feels a little too much just for hair. And it’s just a Sunday, Ma. Are we going out later or something?”

Ma sighed. “Val, if you’re going to be a girl, one thing you need to learn is that girls need to look their best whenever they can. And, no, it’s not pride or being too prissy or just being a girly-girl. It’s just how girls are. Girls like you and me.” She smiled and touched Val’s cheek.

“Ma…”

She looked at Val. “Sweetie?”

“You took all of Val Edward’s clothes…”

She looked a little worried. “What do mean, ‘Val Edward’s clothes?’ When did you start doing that, referring to Val Edward as a separate person?”

“Just today…”

“Can you tell me…”

“Ma,” Val said, “when I was in Canada…” she sighed and started all over again. “When you sent me to Troy House and the clinic, I went through a lot. And I felt I was… changing. Don’t get me wrong, Ma – I know that it’s a… done deal, and I need to change along with things. And I think I have. The thing is… the thing is, when I change, I really won’t be Val Edward anymore. I won’t be the old me anymore. I’ll be a different person. I’ll be Faye Valentine…. And when we talked when I called you guys, or when I called Carla and Michael – it was like I… wasn’t interested in the old stuff – the old me. And will I lose those things that were important to me? Like you and Dad…” Val started crying.

“But when I got home today,” she continued, “yeah, it didn’t feel like home right away. But after a while, it started to feel like home again. The things in the house, the smells, the colors, the pictures on the walls – I realized they’re all still part of me, like you guys. I don’t have to lose anything. Yes, I’m Valentine now. And this is Valentine’s home. You guys are home. I don’t know if I’m explaining it good…”

“Good enough, sweetie,” her mom replied and hugged her. She wiped Val’s tears away. “Welcome home, dearest daughter – my dear Faye Valentine.”

They felt another pair of arms around them.

Val smiled. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” her dad said.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 23: Val Edward's Last Month

 

On that Sunday, Val still wore her groin guard, and her awkward movements showed to her folks that she wasn’t completely healed, and her folks would insist that she stay in her wheelchair. Which was kind of fun when she learned she could range up and down the suburb streets around their house with the electric wheelchair. This was short-lived, though, because the batteries were quickly run down.

When Val went to school the following Monday, as Penny and Maia promised, her gender change was announced in her homeroom as well as in all her classes, where her supposed intersex condition as well as the operations needed to transition her fully as a female was openly discussed.

It was a very small school after all (there were only eight classes in total; two per year, and only twenty-five students per class), so as predicted, the news spread very quickly. The bullying started in earnest but owing to the small size of the student body, and the vigilance of all the teachers and staff, no overt violence ever erupted, although bullying took all forms.

Val was prepared and took this head-on: she made sure not to keep anything in her locker anymore and her father took her to school every morning. That way, she avoided her car getting targeted for vandalism et cetera. Going home, she relied on Uber and other ride-sharing apps and, though her friends Carla and Michael offered to give her rides, she preferred ride-share. Carla and Michael were offended that she seemed to avoid them, but she explained over a long Viber call that it was more to protect them from any fallout from her announcement. From then on, though they didn’t visibly hang out much anymore, Mrs. Goodchilde insisted on study dates and that they would have Saturday family lunches at home together. From time to time, though, Carla and Michael couldn’t help but stick up for Val, especially when the bullying was fairly bad, but the three weren’t really seen hanging out together.

Through that last month of their third year, Val still wore her “Val Edward” clothes (it turned out her parents didn’t throw her clothes away but just put them away in boxes in the attic, and some in the unused guest room, and waited if Val would want to get rid of them). She did, however, seem to pick ensembles that were best described as androgynous. Throughout her third year, she looked like a very cute boy, becoming cuter and cuter as the end of term neared. And it was perhaps this that made the other kids not pick on her as often, and in fact, the last couple of weeks of term was mostly normal. In fact, it was sort of the reverse of the mild bullying that she got before the “aura” that Dr. Maia alluded to before seemed to become stronger and stronger, and instead of enemies, Val had started acquiring admirers. But a month wasn’t all that long, and Val was soon separated from her bullies and admirers during the summer break.

Carla and Michael became Val’s closest companions, more so than ever, and after the end of term, her dad got Carla and Val summer jobs at his small law firm as filing clerks-slash-assistants while Michael found a job at a department store near Val’s dad’s office as a kind of “gofer.” It wasn’t exactly a menial job, but it was a job that Michael would sooner resign from rather than keep, save for the fact that he wouldn’t see his friends as often as he’d like.

The three earned enough to keep them in pocket money for the summer and, on the weekends, Carla and Val would often take advantage of Michael’s employee discount to buy clothes. Val took full advantage of these opportunities since she was still building up her wardrobe, and soon she found she had used up most of the space in her cabinets and closets.

By then, she had sold almost all of her “Val Edward” clothes to Goodwill, telling her folks and friends she wouldn’t be caught wearing them anymore.

And in those three months of that first summer, Faye Valentine had blossomed. Dr. Maia, or rather Dr. Griffin, told Val’s folks that the work of the hormones she was taking would kick in very quickly (the doctor gave Val a supply of placebo pills that she was instructed to take in full visibility of people at least six times a day), and indeed, by August, she had grown into a very pretty young lady. Also a very statuesque lady – by then she was about six feet tall, towering over Carla and the other ladies in her dad’s office. Her dad was one proud father, and her mom doted on her like she was making up for lost time or something.

As for Carla and Michael, the three were inseparable, and Val learned a lot about how and what it was to be a girl from them, especially from Carla. Val has had to learn quickly as the “aura” Dr. Maia talked about continued to gain strength: when they were in Michael’s department store as they shopped for clothes, or when they were out having lunch or something, they’d be accosted by friendly strangers seemingly taken by Val’s “charm” or whatever it was.

Val, of course, wasn’t averse to taking advantage of this when she could, such as when she was snaking someone out of a parking spot, getting freebies or discounts, or getting out of arguments or sweet-talking her and Carla’s bosses for less work and overtime. Everyone, including Val’s friends, was susceptible to this “aura” and were grateful Val didn’t use it on them… so far as they knew, that is – they were doubtful that they’d know if she did. Her folks, though, seemed immune to it – Val had tried several times, like weaseling out of being grounded for staying out too late, or some such. But her folks loved her so much that she got her way in most things anyway, as she did when she was still Val Edward.

Carla and Michael had talked about this mysterious whatever. All throughout, Val had derided her looks, saying that how could anyone be attracted to a girl that looked like a boy, but what was obvious to everyone except herself was that she was… evolving into a very pretty girl (to Carla’s and Michael’s eyes, a very beautiful one). But it wasn’t just her looks – it was more than that. She just did things right. Both admitted to each other that they had fallen under her spell, irrevocably and forever. They won’t admit it to Val because that might change things. At least they had each other and cried on each other’s shoulders about their unrequited love.

Carla and Michael were told that Val would be transferring to Troy House for her senior year, the story being Val wanted a fresh start and to leave all the gender and intersex issues behind. On that Thursday that Val was to leave, the two dutifully woke up early to see her off, and it was a tearful goodbye when she left for Saint John, the three promising to be friends forever.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 24: Room W2-50

 

Over the summer, Val and her dad had her Jeep tuned and detailed at a place called Otto’s. Otto’s was a client of Henry Goodchilde’s firm, and many of the firm’s partners used him often even though the place was out-of-state – that was how good Otto’s reputation was. They also had the jeep weather-proofed with a removable hardtop and real doors, rust-proofed against the Canadian weather, and, at Val’s insistence, part of the bodywork to get all the rust spots and all the rotted metal out included a color change to canary yellow.

She told her dad the girly color would offset the fact that it was an old “boy’s Wrangler” and make it more appropriate for a girl. Also, though Val wouldn’t admit it to her folks, she found her tastes and preferences have changed and are continuing to change. She worried about that a little bit, but she had resigned herself that she was changing already, and her goal now was to not stop the changes, but rather get used to them, but yet remain true to herself and not allow the changes to, for want of a better word, corrupt her: because she found that she could get her way pretty much whatever she wanted, which was a trip, but could easily make her spoiled and entitled and all those things. She vowed not to let that happen.

Anyway, Val drove her new jeep to Saint John, with the intention of keeping the car with her for the duration of her stay in Troy – that was the point of all the car renovation after all. Her dad followed her to Canada, with all of the stuff Val thought she would need piled up in her jeep and dad’s BMW. But her dad said, with all the money that they were saving on school and tuition fees (and college later on), she could fly back home at least twice a month. Her dad said it wouldn’t be a problem because he’d be footing the bill. So no excuses.

The 21-hour-plus road trip was hard on the two but they did stop over at a motel in Albany for a few hours and got some sleep, and then pushed on in the morning, arriving at Troy House before ten Friday morning.

No kids were around since it was the Friday before the start of term, which allowed the two to bring Val’s stuff into her room. What took a lot of time was the small bar fridge that her dad got from somewhere second-hand, and a small microwave. A couple of janitors helped them with the fridge, and Val didn’t even need to cajole them into helping: they were Canadians, after all, and they volunteered on their own to help carry the fridge to her room.

The registrar's office checked her in and handed over her school documents and class schedule as well as her parking lot card after Dad paid for her CA$ 1,000 parking fee for the fall semester (the fee wasn’t really a fee but a means for the school to dissuade juniors and seniors from abusing the privilege). The RA for her dorm handed over her room key and bathroom key.

For some reason, Val got Momo-chan’s old room: W2-50 - literally the very last room in the dorm - and Dad commented that it was a good-sized room. Later on, she would find that M2-49, M2-50, W2-49, and W2-50 were highly sought after since they were the largest rooms in the dorms because they were at the ends of the building (the same rooms in M1 and W1 were also the same dimensions but since room assignments for first and second-years were alphabetical and swapping wasn’t allowed, there was no competition for them, unlike the third and fourth-year rooms).

It had an identical layout as W2-49 – her old room - except this one was reversed, like a mirror image, with the door to the left of the big window instead of to the right, and everything else totally the same: a closet built into the wall beside the door, a dresser with a mirror, a bookshelf, a study table and three aluminum folding chairs, folded and leaning against the closet door, but all of them on the opposite side compared to the old room.

It had newly painted blank walls – this time it was in pastel salmon – and the three diagrams on the back of the door were the same: a map of the school’s main floor, a fire escape map, and a map of the second floor. The RA said that hanging stuff on the walls was allowed, but the students had to make sure not to use nails or screws, otherwise, they’d have to take them out and repair the walls before the end of the school year, or else they have to pay a fee. Val was glad of that since she had brought some posters she’d like to put up and relieve the emptiness of the walls. But she didn’t have any way to put hooks or hangers on the walls – she’d have to think up something.

Like her old room, the farthest wall also had a large window, with nice sheer curtains in the same shade as the room. It let in the bright sunlight in cheerful shades of peach and made the room very friendly. There was another set of curtains - blackout curtains in a canvas color, but she kept them pulled back most of the time.

The window looked out at the same view of her old room, of the park, and beyond it, the Bay of Fundy. Her dad looked out the window and said the town looked like a pretty place.

Acting like a town local, Val toured Dad around, sticking, of course, to the few spots she knew. For lunch, Val brought her dad to ‘Italian By Night’ again, out in Germain Street (which was, apparently open for lunch and to walk-in patrons). Val said it’s one of the fanciest restaurants in town, and her Dad seemed to approve. Good thing she didn’t offer to pay as she had a limited allowance that she had to stick to, but Dad didn’t complain. Val did have a credit card that her dad gave her, but she was under strict instructions to use it only for emergencies (“And remember,” Dad said, “I’ll get an email every time the card’s used”). The card was a compromise because her folks wouldn’t be around to bail her out of jams. All her expenses were to be under her cash card, which would be topped up with US$500 a week (which was a little less than CA$700), and if she was running low, she would need to give her folks a call.

To experiment, before they left for lunch, she tried withdrawing from the ATM in the school lobby, and the machine spit CA$50 without problems. She was also pleasantly surprised that the school had made sure that at least twenty-five dollars of every withdrawal was in small bills. The ATMs were going to be primarily for the kids’ use, after all.

At around two, her dad brought her back to her dorm, and they said goodbye in the car park. Dad reminded her that she’d be flying home for a visit in two weeks, and she told her dad to give her a text message when he got home safely.

It was a teary goodbye for Val – she had never been away from her folks for more than a couple of days, but she hoped it was going to be okay. She waved goodbye as her dad’s BMW drove away, and wiped away a few tears.

After a quick text to her mom saying they arrived safe and that Dad was on his way back, Val started putting away all her stuff and setting up her itty-bitty little fridge, the microwave, her computer stuff and printer, and all her books. The school had sent them a list of all the references she would need ahead of time and she was able to bring those she already had and buy those that she didn’t. They weren’t that many since a lot of the references for Troy’s students were online, just like in Delos. And just like in Delos, Val also scanned all the paper books (her dad’s firm routinely digitized documents, and she had given Val and Carla permission to digitize their schoolbooks while they were working at his firm). So all her references were now in her iPad Pro. No lugging around any books for her. She brought the hard copies just in case and were just for show in case the teacher asks them to bring a copy to class.

She finished setting everything up by around eight or so and decided on finally getting dinner. She was hoping to eat at the cafeteria but since classes only start next week, the cafeteria was closed. But since she was on her own, she needed to economize starting now. She didn’t need to economize that much, though, since her new daily allowance was equivalent to something like CA$97, which she thought was a lot, relatively speaking. She thought of getting fast food. Later on, Val would find that the school gave all the kids a stipend of CA$500 a month, or roughly, CA$15 a day, but when she told her folks, her dad didn’t change her allowance (“Yay!” she thought in her head but didn’t say anything to her folks).

She decided to look for a fast food place, gas up her jeep, and buy some basic supplies like toiletries, school supplies, snacks, drinks, and such.

On the net, she found a Tim Hortons on, where else? Main Street (and she thought, wouldn’t it be great if Main Street was actually Saint John’s main street?). And she got her jeep gassed up at a gas station called “Irving.” It all made her giggle.

It turned out the Tim Hortons on Main was both a Wendy’s and a Tim Hortons, but she selected what was in her mind “Canadian food” i.e. stuff from the Tim Hortons menu: she got a Tim Hortons BBQ Crispy Chicken Bowl for dinner, plus an Apple Fritter donut and a Vanilla Coconut Cappuccino. She also bought some cream cheese plus six assorted bagels to go, which she could nuke for breakfast tomorrow. Hopefully, her five friends would be arriving by then.

When she was at Tim Hortons, she found the patrons making eyes at her, so she deliberately picked a corner table in front of the picture windows that looked out into the parking area. She kept her back to the other diners and was able to enjoy her dinner mostly in peace. She surfed on her phone but, after a while, when she looked up, she noticed some people gathering outside staring at her but trying very hard to appear that they weren’t. By then, she was almost finished so, after a final bite of her apple donut, she got up to leave and gave the people around her a friendly smile.

She didn’t find any 7-Elevens or any other convenience stores she was familiar with, so she just picked a nearby Circle K. And there she bought a big load of snacks, drinks, and other things that she thought she needed, like soap, shampoo, toothpaste, some notebooks, pads of paper, disposable pens, et cetera. She also bought a supply of tampons and pads (she has had three periods already, and with her mom’s help, she now knew what to do. Ma said she preferred tampons, especially if she was being very active, but she said Val could use pads until she was more used to tampons). The friendly cashier girl helped her carry her stuff to her jeep, and she drove back to the school.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 25: Val's Gang

 

Saturday morning came, and the sunshine from her window finally woke her up. Her phone said it was nine already. That reminded her that she forgot to set up her clock radio.

There was a knock on her door and wondered who it could be. Grumpily, she got up, pulled on the robe that went with her nightie (she wore nighties now), some slippers, and shuffled to the door.

“Whaddaya want?” she said grumpily and was attacked with hugs.

It was Arianne and Momo-chan, and it was a cheerful reunion. After a short bow, Momo hugged Val – something other Japanese don’t do often. As for Arianne, right away, she went in for kisses on the cheeks and hugs.

They munched on some of the bagels from the previous night that she nuked in her new microwave, and updated each other, Afterwards, changing into shorts and a t-shirt, she helped her friends get settled in.

Arianne commented that Val looked fully recovered now, and Val said she was now fully functional. “Everywhere?” Arianne said, and Momo giggled.

At about lunchtime, Ashanti and Rose arrived, and, instead of helping them get settled in, the five girls decided to go out for lunch first. Val wondered where Jazz was, and Arianne said she’d probably be arriving tomorrow.

“That girl is always late for everything,” Arianne said in her sexy French accent, “do not worry about her. So! Let us have some lunch! My treat!”

Everyone changed into some warmer clothes and Val drove them in her jeep to a new place.

After lunch, they got down to some work and got Ashanti and Rose settled in as well and finished at around seven. Unlike her first visit, it was already dark by then. Jazz still wasn’t around but she called Momo earlier to say she’d be arriving Sunday afternoon.

With bath stuff and towels, they all trooped into the bathroom assigned to them and took a quick shower. Arianne didn’t shower this time – apparently, the French didn’t take showers as often as others, and Ashanti said she’d just shower later (because she takes a lot of time to get ready). Arianne and Ashanti just followed them in to continue chatting. Val thought that unusual, but judging by the reaction of the other girls, she thought it might not really be that unusual.

Val was a trifle shy, still, but tried not to be jittery and just act normally despite two pretty girls naked and showering to either side of her. Also, she was starting to react to the girls. But she did her best to not give in. She adjusted her shower and shivered at the suddenly-cold water.

“Hey, you’ve got more curves on you than last time, girl,” Rose commented as she looked at her frankly.

“Oui,” Arianne agreed. “Our girl is growing up.” She giggled.

“Not ‘under-developed’ anymore, then?” Val said.

Arianne stuck her tongue out at Val.

“Also,” Ashanti commented, “you look taller than before.”

“Hai,” Momo said. “How tall are you now, Vale-san? Do you know?”

“I’m almost 6 feet tall now…”

“Oooh! You are almost as tall as Arianne!”

“It’s a little awkward to be so tall. For a guy, it’s great. For a girl…”

Arianne sighed. “You are telling me, ma chere. I cannot recall the last time I have had a date.”

“How about Jerome Anderson at the year-end party?” Rose said. “Hmmm?” They all laughed.

“That does not count, Rose,” Arianne said. “I was just getting back at him for dropping me for Deepali.”

“Sure, sure,” Rose said in a mocking tone. “That kiss though looked really good.”

Arianne looked thoughtful. “Well, that boy was good in… other things, too.” And everyone giggled again.

“But you dropped him, right?” Momo asked.

“But of course! Un prete pour un rendu!”

“What?” Rose said.

“That is French for ‘tit for tat,’ Rosie-chan,” Momo said.

Val had a fun time with them, and it was just showering. “And thank god the cold water worked,” she thought. But she knew it wouldn’t last. She could feel it.

After their shower, all of them went to their rooms to get ready. Val decided on a simple outfit this time, and picked a nice, navy-blue sweater she wore over her black sports bra (she was now a definite B, but Ma said she was still growing… oh, boy), black thermal tights, and some uggs. She had hair down to the middle of her back now and it took just a little bit longer to blow-dry. Afterwards, she combed her hair straight back, put on a knitted black beanie, and shouldered her favorite Picnic backpack. But no one was coming - after a bit, she got a little impatient and went and knocked on Arianne’s door – the one next to hers.

“Entrez!”

“Hey, Arianne,” Val said as she came into the room. She found Arianne in a long wool skirt and nothing else. She was looking around her dresser for a top.

“Bonour, Val. Un moment, Entrez! Entrez!”

Val gulped and looked away. She looked out the window and focused on that. “You have a different view than mine,” she commented.

“This was not my old room. Mine was the room next door. But the view is pretty much the same. Boring, really. I mean all you can see is the car park in front of the school. Merde”.

“It looks okay to me…”

She walked to Val and stood beside her. She put her arm around Val’s shoulder, and Val felt Arianne’s left breast press against her upper left arm. Val gulped. They both looked at Saint John’s nightscape skyline in companionable silence.

”En effet,” Arianne said. “I was just joking a little bit. It is a pretty view, especially at night with all the city lights.” Val knew Arianne wasn’t doing anything deliberate, but she would find out later that among the five, Arianne and Ashanti had the least hangups about nudity. So Arianne wasn’t really trying anything and was just acting normally. She gave Val a quick kiss on the cheek and got herself dressed in a long-sleeved Henley and a loose warm cardigan.

Along with her free-wheeling nature, Arianne’s natural charisma made her the leader of their little group. And it was because of her that their little gang was one of the more formidable of all the little cliques in school, because she kept them highly visible to the student body, and hence a big part of the school’s zeitgeist. Even the boys tried not to cross them. But, their “power” was also because all of them were lookers – the better-looking ones in Troy, which was surprising since the senior class is always reputed to have the best-looking kids – something unique to Troy house, unlike the other nine Aristotle Endowment schools. (This year, Arianne and her friends were the seniors, thought, which helped to continue the reputation).

Their influence also comes from the fact that all five of them had Kodikos scores higher than fifty-six, whereas most of the other students of Troy House had scores between fifty-three to fifty-five. In a school where the student body put a lot of stock in the scores, that was a big deal.

Val would later learn that, in the other nine Endowment schools, the students had Kodikos scores of only fifty to fifty-two, because, on Dr. Castellanos’ orders from years ago, those who had scores higher than fifty-two were invited to Troy House. At this time, among the two hundred students in Troy (including the incoming fifty freshmen), Arianne and her four friends were part of the top twenty scorers: Arianne had fifty-nine, Momo-chan had fifty-seven, Ashanti and Rose had fifty-six, and Jazz had fifty-five. Later on, the girls would be pleased when they heard from Dr. Penny that Val has a fifty-eight score. And, on top of that, the girls had academic grades higher than most. The few that had scores higher than theirs had sixty or sixty-one: apparently, higher scores were very unusual.

In any case, they stepped out for dinner. Again, they left it to Arianne, and she picked a place called Port City Royal. It was a dimly lit basement restaurant with exposed brick on the walls. Being a date place, they served beer, wine, and cocktails, but Arianne stepped past any issues by ordering virgin sangrias for everyone. And despite being an alcohol-free dinner, they enjoyed the dinner and made a boisterous time of it.

Several guys approached them, but Arianne told them none of them were of legal age, and they just faded away back to their own tables. The girls probably wouldn’t have minded but they had to be careful and not jeopardize their stay at Troy House.

The girls decided to get some supplies, and Rose directed Val to yet another Circle K. And with the back full to the brim with assorted stuff, they went back.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 26: Starting The Fall Semester

 

Val found that moving to her new school wasn’t too much of a chore: with the help of her new friends, she found herself accepted by the student body, and the classes and teaching methods were virtual duplicates of those in Delos. And since she was a girl now, the weirdness that she had to go through in Delos and Kennedy wasn’t there anymore. She finally made the connection that most of the guys before found being attracted to another guy was… distasteful to them, hence the weirdness and hostility, but now that she was a girl, that had gone.

This attraction of her new classmates to her made Val re-think the comments Dr. Penny, Dr. Maia, her mom and dad, Carla and the girls keep making about her looks. She vowed never to let it go to her head, but she thought this wouldn’t be a problem - deep inside, she still didn’t believe it.

Dr. Castellanos, or “Dr. Penny” as everyone called her, was her homeroom teacher. That wasn’t such an unprecedented thing – every few years or so, Dr. Penny, besides running the school as well as Archimedes Genomics, would also teach Biology, Physics, Chemistry, Earth or Space Science at Troy, and would usually have a homeroom. That year, in Troy, homeroom for Val’s class was the first thing on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, while it was the last class on Wednesday and Friday. For the others, homeroom was the first class, as usual. Changing of class schedules only happens with Dr. Penny’s class, in order to accommodate her schedule.

The Senior Year had two classes, as did the other levels, and each class had twenty-five kids (Troy’s student body was very small, like the other Endowment schools). Val was assigned to Class G, and her class had fifteen girls and only ten guys whereas the other class had the opposite – ten girls and fifteen guys. And in her class, it was “fortunate” that all five of her new friends were all in Class G (Val suspected Dr. Penny had a hand in that).

Everyone in her class knew each other already, but she was new, so, on their first day, after Dr. Penny’s perfunctory announcements regarding the new school year, and after she took attendance, she asked Val to introduce herself.

Val embarrassedly made a quick five-sentence speech, which garnered some polite clapping. She wisely made her little speech in such a way that it was gender-neutral, not referring to her time in Delos and before that, was as a he. She also referred to herself as “Val” instead of “Faye Valentine just in case (although that would change later on after Dr. Penny suggested it). She also didn’t mention Delos by name. But she needn’t have worried – her new classmates paid no attention to what she was saying but rather to her. This irritated Arianne vaguely since she was used to being the center of attention, but thinking her classmates needed to get to know Val so she wouldn’t have trouble integrating, Arianne didn’t react visibly.

The first day of the fall semester was always the time when everyone selected their electives, and a lot of the kids were around to give Val advice. But she relied mostly on the advice of her new friends. At the end of the day, she had selected two foreign languages although only one was required – French and Japanese (she was inspired to learn them because of Arianne and Momo-chan). As for science, she picked biology (hoping she’d learn more about DNA and such), and for her PE, she picked track-and-field. As for her free electives, she selected auto shop (she didn’t have her dad now so she wanted to be able to take care of her jeep by herself) and home economics dressmaking.

Picking a PE class was not such a big deal in Troy as it was in the other Endowment schools – Troy’s School Administration would let kids pick anything. Since Troy didn’t join other inter-school competitions nor did it depend on sponsorships, there was no impetus for their kids to pick a specific sport, so, as practical as ever, Val picked Track And Field as a way to keep fit. She needn’t have worried since the school required their kids to go to two PE classes a week – one for their mandatory PE class, and another free one to keep the students active, which was important for a place where all the kids were virtual shut-ins, and where the average temperature for the year was around 10C.

So, aside from her track and field PE class on Tuesdays, on alternate weeks, Val would play volleyball and basketball (only if she could get Arianne and the others to be on her team), swimming, tennis, and, upon Momo’s insistence, kendo and karate (Momo-chan was apparently a ranked amateur in both). There were other sports in Troy, but she gave those a miss. There was bowling, as well, but no one except the freshmen would pick that since everyone could bowl anytime they wanted.

As the semester progressed, she got to know her classmates. A lot of her new classmates introduced themselves to her on that first day, especially the boys. But with Val’s new “gang” running interference, this was kept controlled and to a manageable level.

Even so, lots of the boys, especially the senior and junior ones, made a play for Val, and Val found herself going out on dates on most weekends when she didn’t have plans with Arianne and the others, or the girls had dates themselves or other things.

In time, Val would find her old heterosexual male preferences changing, and find boys just as appealing as girls, and for those girls that preferred other girls, they would eventually find Val receptive to their advances as well.

Val Edward was no virgin, but Faye Valentine was, and she lost her virginity to a sophomore transferee (a sophomore didn’t return to Troy after the break because of a sudden death in the family, so Troy filled the vacancy with a new student). The new student, Craig, was from Edinburgh, and Val and many of the girls found his accent and his bad-boy persona novel and appealing. Eventually, Craig would become Val’s on-and-off boyfriend. Though Craig wanted the relationship more steady than that, he was clued in by his new buds: it was better to be on an on-and-off boyfriend rather than make any moves that could jeopardize it because, as it was, Val, was the hottest girl in school, not to mention a senior. Craig was so out of his league that he should just thank god and cool it.

For Craig, he didn’t like being an occasional boyfriend, but he was far more scared of ruining their relationship by demanding any kind of exclusivity: those times that they went out on dates, he thanked his lucky stars that he had the most beautiful girl on his arm. Sex with Val, the few times they were able to do it, was also spectacular – as in stars-and-fireworks spectacular, and Val’s appetite was so voracious – Craig was so spent after a night with her that he often needed the following day to rest. He also knew now to be prepared since Val wouldn’t do it otherwise. So he learned to make sure to have a lot of condoms on hand.

Finding opportunities for sex was a little difficult for Troy House students since school policy was that there shouldn’t be any sexual fraternization for students, even though the age of consent in Canada was sixteen. So, because of the school authorities and the ever-vigilant RAs in the dormitories, the kids had to do their thing off-campus, often out-of-town altogether, except for those who had cars or knew places in the city that wouldn’t turn the kids away - most motels and hotels in the city knew about Troy’s policies so they would regularly turn away Troy House kids. Entrepreneurs making fake IDs did a brisk business in Troy because of this, but with the strictness of the school, the kids just thought it safer to find other “alternative venues” for their nocturnal activities…

So, during those Saturdays when Val wasn’t doing anything and was willing, Craig would drive them out to this nice motel he found outside of town that didn’t card kids, and they would spend the night.

The first time they did it, Val found it a little painful as well as awkward since it was her first time, but the fun and pleasure outweighed any pain or embarrassment. And because Val Edward was no virgin, Faye Valentine was able to compare, and if it was just about sex, being a girl was a hundred, maybe a thousand times better than being a boy. She wondered why other girls didn’t have more sex. She wondered that maybe it was just her.

Over multiple dates, Val learned things and, in a short time, she was probably the most experienced in school. The thing was, Val found that Craig wasn’t able to completely satisfy her cravings, so she’d want some alone time when they got back to the dorms. Either that or find another partner. But she didn’t want to get a reputation as a slut, so masturbating in her room became one of her most favorite things.

There were only twenty-five students per class, making a total of fifty seniors (as there were in the other years), and roughly half of them were guys. So with the small student body, most everyone in school knew each other, and that was fine for Val: Unlike in Delos and Kennedy, Val didn’t feel at all creeped out, and actually welcomed the attention. And she usually dressed up to get attention, to the limits of the school uniform code, of course. Among her friends, Val quickly became the one with the best dress sense, even better than either Ashanti or Arianne, and the girls would spend many Sundays trawling the department stores and shops in town on mini-shopping sprees, with Val or Arianne or Ashanti giving the others advice. But unlike Arianne (or Val, for that matter), most kids in Troy depended on their daily stipends, so these sprees would only yield maybe two or three items per girl, but that didn’t stop them from still having fun.

In buying their outfits, Arianne and Ashanti stressed the need to match them to their complexion and hair color. However, for Val, it almost seemed that her hair was not a constant thing. Obviously, it was a trick of the light, but Val would sometimes not appear to be blonde, but sometimes a redhead, a brunette, or sometimes raven-haired or silver-haired. Sometimes, her hair even seemed to be ombre, in color combinations that were always flattering to her current outfit or mood.

Obviously, it was some trick of the light, like Ashanti said, but, they all wondered, if that was so, why was it just Val? The girls knew that Val was officially a strawberry blonde, but her hair seemed to match whatever she was wearing or doing at any time. The girls, especially Jazz, envied this of Val and often tried to mimic it, but the best Jazz was able to do was to do a kind of shading that allowed her hair to appear black, brunette, or coppery-colored depending on the ambient light. But only in hints.

Val herself didn’t know how she did it, and though Val shared with her friends her hair routine and the products she used, they weren’t especially unusual, and they didn’t give the girls Val’s magical hair.

In any case, with all these positive things, suffice it to say, Val found her niche in her new school.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 27: Trips Back Home

 

When she made her six-hour flights back home, her folks and her friends Carla and Michael would comment on how much she had changed. But as they reacquainted themselves, they’d find that, beneath all her changes, she was still the Val that they knew and loved.

But it couldn’t be denied that Val had indeed changed a lot. Her folks were proud that she was growing into a smart, beautiful, and independent woman. As for Clara and Michael, both of them were equally as proud of their beloved Val but were worried about their increasing attraction to their girl. But because they were afraid of damaging their friendship, this attraction remained unrequited. The two found solace in each other and, over time, a relationship grew between Carla and Michael.

When she was visiting, Val didn’t visit Delos High, and did her best to avoid her former classmates telling Carla and Michael it was best to avoid awkward questions. Walking around in a mall once, they saw a bunch of their old classmates so Val, Carla, and Michael ducked into the first place they saw, which turned out to be a restaurant, and ended up having lunch, waiting until the Delos kids had moved on.

The three didn’t do anything special when Val came down for a visit, and just basically hung around. The Saturday lunch thing got reinstituted, and then, after lunch, the three would go out to do something, like watch a movie or go shopping, or just spend time at the park or something. Sunday was just for the family, though, and Val and her folks would pretty much just stay home or go to some park. Ma, of course, took it as an opportunity for her to get as much mother-daughter time as possible. Usually, it would become a trip to the hairdressers or a shopping trip and Val would return to Troy House with a new ‘do or a bunch of new outfits. This happened so often that, when she found her closet starting to get filled up, she bought a portable clothes closet from Amazon which she put beside her dresser. She had a little less space now but didn’t mind it much. She also segregated all the clothes that she didn’t wear much, and give them away to her friends who wanted them, and on her next trips back, she’d bring the remaining stuff back home.

As for father-daughter time, it was usually spent chatting or playing backyard basketball or bowling. Ma would usually go with them, though she didn’t bowl much. Their new thing, though was working on Dad’s BMW, and he was amazed at Val’s growing knowledge and expertise with cars. So, in time, Dad’s BMW M3 would acquire an overhead rack, new fog lamps, and a new computer tuned for max performance.

On that first visit, before Val’s dad drove her to the airport for her ten PM flight, Carla and Michael drove up in his beat-up Toyota. “You don’t think we’ll just let you leave?” Carla said and gave her a big hug.

“You didn’t need to, you know,” Val said. “It’s okay.”

“Yes, we did,” Michael said. “We love you, you know.”

“Yes, I do,” Val said and hugged Michael as well. “I love you guys, too.”

“We know it.”

She got in her Dad’s car, and Carla, Michael, and her mom waved to them as she and her dad drove away.

As they drove to the airport, Val got quiet and teary-eyed.

“Hey, why the tears, sweetie,” her dad said. “You’ll see them again next time.”

“Yeah, Dad. I guess I just missed them so much. I missed you guys, too.”

Dad reached and hugged her by the neck.

“We missed you, too. But, stop it, baby. What’s two weeks, right? Okay?”

Val gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, Dad.”

On the flight back, she didn’t have too much trouble. She only brought her wheelie and her favorite leather backpack, so getting through customs and airport security wasn’t too big of a hassle. When she arrived at Fredericton Airport, it took a little over an hour to get through customs and immigration, and she had to wait for half an hour for the bus to Saint John, then an hour’s ride, and then a taxi to Troy. By that time it was already six AM – barely enough time to get ready for classes. In subsequent trips, she’d drive herself to the airport and park it in those extended parking services they had in airports.

And so that was how it was on her first trip back.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 28: Hercules

 

Hercules, the former Erin Smith, stood about a mile from his just-completed castle, all the better to admire his creation. The castle was like a cross between an ancient Greek castrum and a medieval English castle.

It was several miles to the east of Bear Lake in the Cokeville Meadows National Wildlife Preserve, straddling the border of Idaho to the north and Utah to the south, on top of a small hill surrounded by pine trees. And since no one was around, no one saw the anachronistic castle in the middle of the forest.

It was years after the abortive presidential election that Hercules Smith had tried to engineer. But the government, aided and abetted by Dr. Castellanos and the people of the Aristotle Endowment was able to stop his plans for dominating America (and then the rest of the world). This time, though, Hercules planned to do it all himself instead of through proxies.

The first part of his new plan, though, was to gather new resources and new people, and establish a base of operations. In a few years, he did that and was now surrounded by his new minions. He also operated a small very well-equipped (but not very well-trained) private militia of a thousand men (absolutely no women, as he didn’t think them reliable nor capable) several hundred million in the bank, and his new “fortress of power.” Most of his people found the name ridiculous in its pomposity (but then, Hercules was a very pompous leader), so most just called it “The Fortress.”

Hercules, like Val, was told of what the Endowment was all about after his spontaneous gender change. He then discovered the significance of his Kodikos score – and that he was only one of two Endowment kids that ever got a score as high as eighty-five. And for the rest of his senior year, his change continued. But Dr. Penny (and now Val) knew, the changes were not just a physical change. Soon, the new Erin exhibited… very antisocial behavior (to say the least), and was making life more and more difficult in the Lyceum. Before he could make more trouble, though, the Lyceum’s administration was arranging something, but before they could execute it, Erin ran away and disappeared, along with his fifteen thousand dollar grant money.

It was mostly because of this that the Endowment changed the policies for Troy House. It was their working hypothesis that Erin’s high score contributed to her overall physical changes (he had become a giant of a man, with a physique that looked more like a bodybuilder’s rather than an average man’s) and mental state. Hence, after that experience, the Endowment kept all their highest-scoring students in a separate school so that they could be observed and managed. That became the new Troy House.

No one, however, associated his change of gender to his score nor to his transformation given a gender change couldn’t be caused by any epigenetic mechanism, so far as they knew. Besides, though Dr. Castellanos also had the same eighty-five score, she didn’t change genders when she stabilized. Only when Val changed genders too did Dr. Maia reconsider the idea.

In any case, after that incident, the Endowment, indeed the entire world couldn’t find him anymore. After cleaning out the bank accounts of several of his supporters and contributors, he went underground and established himself as a kind of adviser to several industrial leaders in the Middle East. He couldn’t do much because he needed to keep his identity anonymous to the world, but he was able to raise enough cash to accumulate a large war chest, allowing him to return to America and continue his plans.

Hercules was standing in his Hoplite armor, helmet, Hoplon shield, a Doru spear in his hand, and a Xiphos sword clipped to his waist. He stood a mile or so away from the Fortress. He fancied himself as a reincarnation of a Greek God, and he had been styling himself as such: he learned to speak Greek and immersed himself in Greek mythology. Most of his clothes were styled in authentic ancient Greek, and he had several copies of the armor he was wearing made up, using contemporary military-grade materials.

His Hoplon shield, for example, was made of Lexan overlaid with Kevlar and then overlaid with a thin layer of copper to make it look authentic, yet it was light and fully functional. His, armor, helmet and all the other parts of his… “uniform” were made similar to his Hoplon, so, though they looked authentic ancient Greek, they were as functional and effective as any modern equivalent. Forgetting, of course, that his arms and upper legs were bare and vulnerable.

For his Xiphos, the leaf-shaped blade was made from high-carbon industrial steel, giving it strength and a sharp edge as good as any modern sword. The pommel and guard were authentic as they were made of bronze, like the original swords, and the grip was made from white poplar (per Greek mythology, white poplar was consecrated to Hercules when he defeated the monster Cacus). The flat spearhead and butt-spike of his three-meter-long Doru spear were also made from the same metal as his sword.

The only anachronistic part of his “uniform” were the two Glock 19s that he had in holsters behind his back and underneath the kilt. In any case, it wasn’t seen.

Dressing up like a Hoplite was weird, but then “Hercules” was a weird guy. None of his people brought it up, however. Once, one of the guards made fun of the fact, and Hercules beat him to an inch of his life.

Hercules Smith was clearly obsessed. Knowing the whole theory upon which the Endowment was founded, and having seen the Kodikos Ton Theon and the Golden Theory himself, and knew all that the Endowment has done and all of the information it had accumulated, he knew that all of it was no lie. And his unprecedented eighty-five Kodikos score - there were only two of them in the whole history of the Endowment that ever got that high a score - and the other one rose to become the president and director-general of the Endowment and led the scientific aspects of its operation, Erin-soon-to-be-Hercules convinced himself that he was indeed the first of the coming wave of the new gods. And plus the unprecedented physical changes he underwent, he knew it must be true – he was now taller than Shaquille O'Neal and close to five hundred pounds. He could do squats of a thousand pounds, 1,500-pound deadlifts, and 800-pound bench presses. He could tie a standard 50-cm long, 18-pound crowbar into a knot and almost lift a 3,000-pound subcompact over his head. He could break someone in two without even half-trying. He was also very handsome, but in a brutal kind of way. He truly believed he really was the first of the latter-day gods and could therefore do no wrong. He also styled himself after the ancient Greeks, learned to write and speak Greek, ate Greek food, and wore, as often as he could ancient Greek attire.

The thing was, he was also the most violent and sadistic of psychopaths and believed that what he wanted was preordained. Most of the psychiatrists and doctors of the Endowment, including Dr. Maia and Dr. Penny, thought that his spontaneous sex change and extreme transformation had unbalanced an already shaky psyche with self-esteem issues, and this was what made him the brutal megalomaniac that he was.

The Endowment’s scientists tried to see if there was a pattern, and if the transformation of the only other person that got an eighty-five score like him - Dr. Penny – was also affected in the same way. However - Dr. Penny’s own transformation happened many, many years before Erin, and any psychotic behavior would have surfaced long before. Needless to say, she wasn’t psychotic and she also didn’t have any spontaneous sex change. But it was argued that her transformation was also just as extreme, but in a different and more beneficial way. She was already a looker before transformation and stabilization, but afterward she became one of the most drop-dead gorgeous women anyone in the Endowment had ever seen, and could twist anyone around her little finger without even trying. She was also tall – not as tall as Hercules but pretty tall for a woman at six-three. She could do 600-pound squats, 500-pound deadlifts, and 500-pound bench presses. She wasn’t as powerful as Hercules, but powerful enough. What she could do that Hercules couldn’t do was to run at a sustained 20mph, and with her lithe figure, do any yoga pose and stand on her head for hours. Also, with her substantial… charms, she was able to rise through the ranks of Aristotle and become the chairperson and director general. But it couldn’t be denied that she had the smarts for it and that it was not just the changes. In fact, it was through her efforts that their scientific knowledge expanded in leaps and bounds, and the Endowment was at the precipice of an unprecedented expansion of their operation.

But she had no megalomaniac ambitions nor believed she was some god unlike Hercules – Hercules knew in his heart he was indeed a god. And the entire world was to therefore be at his beck and call.

Hercules did that kind of thing often – dressing up as a Hoplite warrior and walking around the Fortress. When he did something like this, his people breathed a sigh of relief because they had a little bit of respite from his abuse. They called these “their liege’s time out to survey his kingdom.” Of course, never to his face. But it was a bit true: Hercules was actually doing that – surveying his “kingdom,” and dreaming of the day when he would be the king of all the world.

As he stood outside admiring his new castle, one of his people came running up, proffering a smartphone.

“Excellency!” the little man ran up. “You just got a text message from our contact in the Aristotle Endowment!”

“Sou eipa na min me enochleis!” He roared, and then he backhanded the man.

The strength of his slap sent the man sprawling.

“Excellency?” he asked as he rubbed the side of his face. Only a few of them knew how to speak Greek and he wasn’t one of them.

“I said do not bother me!”

“But, Excellency, you said to let you know if this person called…”

Hercules growled, grabbed the phone from the man, and waved him away. He checked the message that his spy in Aristotle sent. The woman sent a text that said she heard that the Endowment had unearthed another student who had a very high Kodikos score, just like him and Dr. Castellanos. The student was in the Chicago school, and that Dr. Castellanos was hiding him (or her). But that was all she knew.

Hercules grew red in anger. “That’s the stupidest report in the world!” he raged. His spy in Athens was just a lab tech and wasn’t the most informed nor the smartest. But Hercules didn’t have anyone else so she would have to do.

“That’s all right, my love,” he texted back, all the while sneering. “You did well. Anything else?”

“Unfortunately not,” she replied. “Castellanos has everything locked down. Only the directors know what’s happening. When can I see you again?”

“I’m sorry, my love,” he said. “I’m very busy,” he lied. “There is still a lot to do to my fortress. As soon as it’s done, I’ll call you.”

“I love you,” the girl texted. With a last deriding laugh, Hercules switched the phone off and threw it away. “That deluded woman is a pain,” he thought. But he had to keep her on the hook until he could find a better snitch.

“That was some news she brought, though,” he thought. “It looks like there will have to be a change of plans.” He started to walk back to the fortress.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 29: In A Name

Identities

Sometime during the first few months of Val’s stay in Troy House, Dr. Penny invited her to Archimedes Genomics for a “checkup.” Val shrugged, knowing that this was probably about something else. Anyway, she made her excuses to the girls and made her way to Archimedes. As per usual, there was a bunch of hangers-on walking with her, and to shake them, she said she needed to go somewhere and took her jeep. She drove away from Troy and Archimedes to fake them out, and drove the long way around approaching the lab and the school from the side of the lab – that way, no one would see.

It turned out to be nothing, though.

Dr. Penny went through the motions, measured her height and weight, put a stethoscope on and checked her heart and breathing, took some blood for testing, and did a cursory medical interview. Both of them knew it was just for show but they still went through the motions.

“You know, Doc,” Val said, I’ve been feeling twinges and things, and I’ve been getting, um, cravings and kind of urgings. Like, from time to time, I want to eat something sweet or savory or whatever. Or like I want to do some laps in the track or the pool. You know?”

She didn’t mention that she’d also been getting lots of urges of the… sexual kind as well: almost every night, she’d get erotic dreams, usually revolving around Craig of the girls. She checked, and according to WebMD, they’re probably a girl’s version of a wet dream, and she’d get these sudden lightning-like attractions for some of the kids, almost like getting a charley horse or a cramp in their suddenness and sharpness, and in less than a minute they’d disappear. Sometimes these “cramps” would come in rapid succession and she’d have to excuse herself from class to go to the restroom and splash her face with cold water.

Doctor Penny nodded. “Those are part of the changes, my dear. You’re starting to stabilize. When all the changes are done, they’ll fade away.” She smiled at Val knowingly. “You’re not telling everything, I think.”

“Um….”

“Don’t worry about it. I went through the same changes when I was a senior. Maia, too. But most of the others don’t feel anything when they’re stabilizing. From all that we know, it depends on how high your Kodikos score is.

“Also, stabilizing doesn’t mean you won’t be going through the usual hormonal changes everyone gets, including normals. I suspect you’ll still be undergoing the usual things even after you’re done stabilizing. You’re still young girl-wise, and haven’t completely gone through puberty yet. You’ll probably see more changes in your hips and breasts and height. I know you’re pretty tall already, but I don’t think it’ll stop until maybe you’re eighteen or so.”

“Oh, no… How tall do you think I’ll end up being?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Doc, have my friends gotten their, um, doses of ambrosia already?”

“Actually, most everyone gets their doses towards the end of their third year – the ones with lower scores take a little bit more time stabilizing. Your friends, plus a few others, got theirs at the first day of the fall semester.“

Anyway, Dr. Penny eventually told her why she wanted to talk to her. According to Dr. Penny, they wanted her to switch names – not to change her name again, because it’s not necessary anymore, but to start using her new name now, and not refer to herself as “Val.”

Val shrugged. At the start of it all, Val was scared that she’d lose her identity. But over the summer, she learned that who she was wasn’t in jeopardy of disappearing. She learned that whether as a boy or a girl, it didn’t matter, so long as she remained true to her beliefs and her inner being. It’s not as if she’d lose all the memories she had accumulated as Val Edward, or lose her feelings for the people she loved. She supposed it was an advantage that Val Edward was mostly a loner, and he therefore only had a few “real” loved ones - like her folks, Carla and Michael. That meant she had fewer people to make sure were okay with it.

She remembered that very hackneyed line from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet - “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.”

So, when Dr. Penny asked her, it wasn’t a big deal to her anymore – it’s just a name, not what she was.

“Sure, I can start calling myself Faye Valentine now. Look.”

She took a pen and prescription pad from Dr. Penny’s table and wrote her name - “Faye Valentine Goodchilde” - three times in a stylized, curlicued way. She also wrote “Val Goodchilde” and “Val” in the same style. She showed it to Dr. Penny. “It’s my signature. I’ve been using it for months now.”

She then switched to a new sheet. “’Kay, let’s see.”

She tried writing “Faye Goodchilde” and “Faye” in the same style six times. “I think I got it.”

She showed the pad to Dr. Penny.

“Cute. And I assume you’d be using ‘Faye’ as your usual day-to-day name?”

“Being ‘Faye’ would be great,” she smiled. “But being ‘Valentine’ would be cuter.”

“Which would you prefer?”

She shrugged. “Both are okay.”

“Well, pick one.”

“I guess Faye would be cute, too. I guess Faye it is. Besides, it’s shorter easier to say.”

“Yes.”

Val became serious. “It’s funny to be picking my name. It’s not like inventing a Facebook name, or an Instagram or Tiktok name, after all… I’m picking my real name for realz. Faye… IRL…”

“How do you feel about that.”

“Oh, it doesn’t bother me in that way, don’t worry, Doc,” she said, reading between the lines. “But…” she sighed. “How do I tell my folks and my friends?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Val. Oh! I mean ‘Faye.’” Both of them giggled. “Refer to yourself as Faye and people will get the message.”

“’Kay.” She looked thoughtful. “Doc? What brought this on anyway?”

“You know about Erin Smith, right? I mean Hercules… Well, I’ve heard from the HQ in Athens that the people there say Smith may have a spy among their staff. They’re on it, and I’m sure they’ll flush him or her out eventually. But that spy may have been there for a long time already. We didn’t suspect because no one has any reason to be spying on us - no one knows about what we really do, except one person – and that’s Erin. I mean Hercules. In the meantime, we’re locking down everything until we track this spy down. And if it is Hercules who’s behind this, then we need to take steps so that he doesn’t find out about you.

“I’ve had Maia change your records at Delos, for example. By tomorrow, all your records will be deleted, and as for our records here, we’ll just take out any references about which school you transferred from. If ever they find out about Val Edward, they won’t connect it to a Faye Valentine since she wouldn’t have any connections to Delos. The Goodchilde name, though, is a little unusual, but we’ve found maybe a hundred normal senior students in the US that transferred from one school to another. Half a dozen of them are even in Chicago. Maia’s going to plant some information in her Delos records – nothing major, just enough to obfuscate things, and suggest that any data our spy or whoever digs up will point to these kids.”

“What, specifically?”

“I don’t know – I didn’t bother about the details – in things like these, Maia’s the best. But she did say ‘just hints’ so her records aren’t further messed up. Besides, Mr. Daimon won’t be happy with her if she messes up his records even further.

“So if Hercules should turn up, he won’t track you via any Delos records.”

“I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Well… I don’t know about that.”

“Doc!” Faye said indignantly.

“Sorry, sweetie, but you’re not exactly ready for someone like Hercules. Anyway, that’s it, my dear. Sorry to have messed up your afternoon.”

Val, or “Faye,” hugged her and went back to her jeep. She drove in the reverse direction as she did coming in, and went to a place called Cask and Kettle first, and bought burgers and poutine for take-out for herself and the girls.

As she waited for her order to be ready, she thought of the meanings of names, and of self. When one thinks of “dog,” for example, one has an idea of what a dog was. Not all dogs are the same, of course. So even the generic “dog” can’t apply to all dogs. It may sound dumb but she extended the analogy to herself. She had, in her mind who “Val Edward” was, or at least her idea of him. She also had in her mind who “Faye Valentine” was.

She imagined the two as being separate people living in her head. For some reason, they looked the same in her imagination, living together in her head. Val Edward was a lonely loner (those two things not necessarily being the same) beset with problems and desperately looking for a way to be happy. But he was kind, smart, friendly, generous, and would not be averse to fighting for what he believed in, and for the people he loved.

As for Faye Valentine, She imagined her as a beautiful, confident, and outgoing young woman, but she was also kind, smart, friendly, generous, brave – traits that she inherited from Val Edward.

The question now was Faye… She had assumed that “Faye” was her present “her” already. But that throwaway comment of Dr. Penny, about her not being ready, made her realize that she wasn’t “done” yet. She remembered that the stabilizing thing took nine months. And she still had a ways to go. She was definitely still changing. In her checkup with Dr. Penny, she was now an inch taller, ten pounds lighter, and was now sporting C-cups (which she knew because she had to buy bigger bras the weekend before). But more than that, she was feeling more confident and more assured of herself with friends galore. And besides that, she could still feel changes happening. And she didn’t think it was adolescent hormonal changes. Actually, if it was, she wouldn’t know. But Dr. Penny already said it was part of the stabilization thing.

In her mind, there were three now, Val Edward, Faye Valentine, and there was Faye now. And What Faye is and will be, she still didn’t know.

- - - - - -

When Faye came back to the dorm, she invited everyone to burgers and poutine. Everyone picnicked in Momo’s room. Her’s was the roomiest among the girls’ rooms, now that Val, or “Faye,” got the new closet. Faye decided to bring in her folding chairs to supplement Momo-chan’s but everyone just draped themselves on her bed.

Knowing Momo enough, Faye whispered in her ear that she’d take care of washing her bed cover later. Momo-chan always appreciated Faye’s thoughtfulness and hugged her.

Jazz brought in a six-pack of Swamp Pop sugarcane soda that she put in Faye’s fridge earlier. Swamp Pop was their group’s favorite soda, and Jazz ordered theirs from the Cracker Barrel in Maine. This time, the flavor was “Praline Cream Soda.” Faye preferred Swamp Pop’s root beer but Praline Cream Soda was okay. Swamp Pop wasn’t diet, but none of the girls were into dieting. Apparently, being an Aristotle Endowment girl made dieting moot.

These sessions were always fun for the girls, and it gave them an opportunity to finish their homework together, although as per use, it doesn’t take them much time to finish everything, even if a lot of the time was spent chatting and talking and other things.

“How did your checkup, go, Val?” Rose asked.

“Totally fine,” she responded, biting into her burger. “Everything A-OK. Oh, and Dr. Penny said I’m officially six feet tall now.”

Everyone oohed and ahhhed, as expected.

“We are now the same, Val,” Arianne said.

“You know,” Faye said, “I was thinking – while I was out there, I was thinking I want to have a change. How do you guys feel about me calling myself ‘Faye’ instead of ‘Val?’”

“What brought this on?” Rose asked.

“I was thinking, that ‘Val’ was the me from, you know, before. Maybe it’s time for me to start calling myself ‘Faye Valentine’ now, or ‘Faye’ for short? ‘Coz I’m not Val anymore.”

They looked at her curiously. “You are sure about this?” Ashanti asked.

“Yes. But you can all still call me ‘Val’ if you want. “

They looked at each other.

“What?” Faye asked. “Don’t I look like a ‘Faye?’” She stood up and struck a sexy pose. Everyone sort of stopped as they took in her sexy sexitude.

“If only she knew how she affected people,” Jazz thought, with admiration and a bit of sexual attraction growing in her.

“It is okay with me,” Arianne said. “You can be Faye or Val or any name you choose – you will still be the same person we all love.”

Faye gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“You know, of course, that ‘Faye’ in the French language means ‘fairy?’” Arianne commented.

Everyone giggled.

“Not that way! Sacre bleu! I do not mean like a gay boy but like Tinker Bell.” Everyone giggled. “No, no, no! The tiny cartoon girl with the wings from the Disney movies!”

“At six feet tall, I do not think Faye can be anything like tiny Tinker Bell,” Ashanti said.

Arianne threw a French fry at Ashanti, and everyone laughed.

“Thank goodness that did not have any gravy on it,” Momo-chan thought, and resisted the urge to pick it up and throw it in the bin.

After the picnic and the homework, everyone but Faye and Momo left to get ready to go out. Jazz and Ashanti had dates while Rose and Arianne were going out to a movie. Momo stayed to help tutor Faye on her Japanese lessons (Faye alternated between Momo and Arianne every week for language tutoring – Momo for Nippongo and Arianne for French), and it seemed she was well on her way to becoming fluent in both. Next term, Faye declared she planned to take up Greek and Kinyarwanda (or Rwandan), something that pleased Ashanti.

The following days in class, Faye didn’t prompt anyone, but when Arianne and the others started calling her “Faye,” everyone else started doing it, too, including the teachers. Just as Dr. Penny predicted. During her next visit home, Faye explained to her folks as well as to Carla and Michael, and they didn’t make a fuss either. Faye breathed a sigh of relief.

As for Momo, she started calling her “Fey-san” instead of her usual “Vale-san.” During her tutor sessions with Momo, Faye learned the difference of calling someone “san” as opposed to “chan,” and didn’t understand why Momo started calling her “san” instead of “chan” anymore. In fact, Faye should actually be calling her “san.” But since Momo was her senpai (given Momo was her tutor), she didn’t know if “sama” was appropriate. She didn’t know the etiquette involved yet.

Sporty Girl

As usual, every day there was a PE class, and they were scheduled alternatingly and were set for 11 AM and 2 PM. Faye had her Track and Field on Mondays 11 AM. She had also asked for special dispensation so that she could also attend the other 11 AM PE classes. Given her “twinges” and other things, she thought keeping busy was a good way to tire herself out.

It wasn’t all that problematic: Only her Biology, French- and Japanese- Language classes were affected. It was lucky Dr. Penny taught Biology, and her French and Japanese teachers agreed provided she maintained a B-plus grade in all her assignments and exams. And with Arianne and Momo tutoring her in French and Japanese, she was sure she could do that.

So Mondays, she would have her Track and Field, Tuesdays would be Swimming, on Wednesdays, she’d alternate between basketball and volleyball (since the school used the same court for both), Thursdays would be tennis, and Fridays would be Taekwondo with Momo as her usual sparring partner (Momo was an amateur Jujitsu martial artist, and thought learning Taekwondo wasn’t too big a departure). On Saturday mornings, she’d be bowling, just like a lot of the kids.

One of the pluses was, aside from tiring herself out enough to keep her “urges” under control, she also got to meet a lot of the other kids from the other years. In short order, Faye started getting a reputation as the school’s sportiest girl, and also the most popular.

       

       

Arianne was starting to get a bit jealous of all the attention Faye was getting, but she would also rope her and the other girls into her stuff, so Arianne didn’t complain much.

By October, the six was the group, and they practically held sway over the entire school. But they weren’t really like bullies, although Arianne and Jazz were feeling being Top Bitch.

Things were going pretty well. Life was going well, Faye thought. And then Carla called.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 30: School Shooting

 

“Hey, Carla!” Faye said after answering her phone. “What’s up?”

“Faye?” Carla said and then broke down crying.

“Carla! What’s wrong?”

“Faye, someone’s kidnapped Michae!!”

- - - - -

“Doc!” Faye called as she knocked on her office door.

Dr. Penny opened it, but she was talking on her smartphone. She gestured for Faye to sit down as she finished her conversation. Faye sat down on Dr. Penny’s couch.

Finishing her conversation, Dr. Penny pocketed her phone and sat down in front of Faye.

“Honey,” Dr. Penny said, “I have some bad news.”

- - - - -

Just a few hours ago, there were three attacks on three separate schools in Chicago – the three were miles apart, but obviously were related as the attacks were minutes of each other. And one of them was Delos.

All three were bombed, and many kids were hurt or killed. For Delos –

A few hours ago, six people attacked Delos High. The police were calling it a mass shooting: the frontage of the school was shot up and the attackers forced themselves inside. They got to classroom G, bombed the room with what looked like a couple of dynamite-based IEDs, and over twenty of the senior class was hurt. Apparently, it was just bad luck that the attackers ended up bombing Classroom G.

Several other seniors, plus a few of the teachers and staff who were outside in the hallways were shot as well. Nearby police were at the scene in less than ten minutes and were able to stop the gunmen from making a clean getaway. Police backup was soon at the site and had the attackers bottled up in the school.

Before that, most of the rest of the staff and student body, except for a few stragglers, were evacuated and safely away from the firefight.

But as the firefight was ongoing, there was yet another explosion in the school’s foyer or entryway. The explosion seemed to be unexpected, and it killed a couple of the attackers and left three bleeding and stunned. The police could only assume that it was the sixth intruder. As to why – all they could conclude was that it was to help him escape.

Because, less than a minute after the explosion, a Bell 412 commuter helicopter showed up and landed on the school roof. Except for its spinning rotors, the chopper couldn’t be seen from the ground. Nevertheless, the SWAT and police started shooting at the chopper in frustration. The pilot, apparently worried that the bullets would hit his propeller, took off. He caught his compatriot off-guard because, as the pilot took off, a man was seen dangling from one of the chopper’s skids, struggling to climb up and into the cabin.

It was a giant of a man, some saying he was maybe eight or even nine feet tall, and was so big he couldn’t fit into the front cabin of the chopper so he climbed into the back passenger cabin. His features couldn’t be properly determined because he was wearing a full beard, and had long, flowing hair.

All the injured were taken to nearby hospitals, and many of them were in critical condition, There were a handful from Classroom G that were blown up – no bodies to even recover. Based on Mr. Daimon’s count of the people who were evacuated, there were five missing kids. These were all in classroom G during the first explosion, so it was safe to assume that they were the ones that were blown up.

“… and one of them is your friend, Michael,” Dr. Penny said. “I’m so sorry, Faye.”

“But, Doc!” Faye said, “I just got a call from Carla - she said Michael was taken by the bombers!”

She looked at Faye in shock.

- - - - -

After some arrangements, Dr. Penny was booked on the next flight out to Chicago. Faye wanted to go, but the doctor was adamant that she stay in Saint John where it was safe. But needless to say, with her powers of persuasion, Faye was able to join her.

By five PM, they were on a flight to Chicago. By nine-thirty Chicago time, they landed and O’Hare, and were met by Homeland Security’s director, Dr. Maia and Mr. Daimon. To Faye, it seemed that they all knew each other.

“Director Hall,” Dr. Penny said, “this is Faye Goodchilde, one of my students. You might want to hear what she has to say.”

He led them to an empty room in the customs area and they talked it out.

“This is the second time our paths have crossed, Doctor,” Director Smith said. “I just hope this isn’t as messy as last time.”

He put Michael’s picture Dr. Maia provided down on the table.

“This is the student?”

“Yes, sir,” Faye said.

“Why do you think anyone would be after this boy?”

“I don’t know sir. I think it’s best to talk to Carla – she’s the girl who actually saw the kidnapping.”

“I had her brought here. Let me check if she’s here now.” He stepped out of the room and came back with Carla. She had one of her arms in sling.

“Faye!” Carla said, and cannoned into her arms.

“How’re you doing, sweetie?”

“I’m okay. Oh! Hey, Dr. Griffin, Dr. Penny. What’re you doing here?”

“We’re here to find out what happened to Michael. Can you tell us what happened? Everything you can remember, and start from the beginning.”

Carla said that it was the second afternoon class, and they heard a firing. After a lot of commotion, six people led by a very big man over seven feet tall barged in. One of the men surveyed their class and pointed to Michael.

One of the others then threw a bag into the room. The big man dragged Michael out by the coller, and then they then left and closed and barricaded the door from the outside. Some of the kids rushed the door and tried to break it down, but no one could. Knowing the bag was probably a bomb, their teacher yelled at the kids to come away from the door. He pulled the others away, including Carla, and led them to the farthest window. He picked up one of the chairs and threw it through the window. He then practically threw four of his kids through the broken window and jumped through himself. Carla wanted to run after Michael but their teacher reached for her and pulled her through the window. At that point, the bomb exploded.

Dr. Maia, Dr. Penny and Faye vouched for Carla with the director. He really wasn’t disposed to believe the word of a teenager but Dr. Penny could be very persuasive.

“The man sounds like someone we’ve met before. Carla, is this the man that grabbed Michael?” He showed Carla several close-up pictures of the guy when he was on the chopper’s skid.

“Yes sir, definitely. I remember the hair and the beard. Besides, no one else can be that big.”

“Dr. Castellanos,” Director Hall said, “some of my people have been running the pictures through some projections and, using Hercules Smith’s file photos, we’ve established that Michael’s kidnapper and Smith are the same.” Dr. Penny, Dr. Maia and Mr. Daimon nodded knowingly. “He was wearing a disguise but our computer people were able to see through it.”

“Well,” Dr. Penny said, “we’ve been waiting for him to surface again.”

“What’s bothering me is, why did he kidnap Michael? Dr. Griffin, Mr. Daimon, what can you tell me about Michael?”

“Nothing really, Director,” Mr. Daimon said. “Average student, senior, middle-class family. Totally unremarkable.”

“Then why was Smith after your student?”

Dr. Penny, Dr. Griffin and Mr. Daimon looked at each other.

“We think,” Dr. Penny said, “Smith had mistaken Michael for someone else.”

“Who?”

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 31: Bombing Rum

 

Gotcha!

The helicopter that took off from the rooftop of Delos High’s main building didn’t have any tail numbers, but that didn’t slow Homeland too much. They found the Bell helicopter abandoned in a small county airport, and per the tower logs, a Cessna Citation took off from that airport minutes after the arrival of the helicopter.

The Citation’s filed flight plan was for Orlando, but they didn’t quite believe that. They still sent agents to Florida, of course, but he also had the FAA track all Cessna CitationJet M2s out of Chicago. But per the FAA, there was no incoming Orlando flight that could be traced to a Cessna Citation.

As of 2017, there were only 2,000 CitationJet M2s built, so there weren’t too many of them around, simplifying a record search.

However, most of them were traced to their registered owners, including those that weren’t owned by their original owners anymore or were lost, destroyed, or under repair.

There were a dozen of them, though, that were owned by some Middle Eastern royal. Per records, six of them were parked in the prince’s private hangar, and six of them were under repair. The thing was, these six Citations had been under repair for over two and a half years already.

Using that as a clue, they had computers scour keyhole satellite photos, and they found six Citations parked by a small runway strip within the Cokeville Meadows National Wildlife Preserve in Wyoming, just to the east of Bear Lake, near where the borders of Wyoming, Utah, and Idaho intersect.

The Preserve was deserted of people so it was no surprise no one saw the Cessna landing. The landing strip was not on any official map – it was not an authorized structure. And, in the pictures, there was an adjacent structure which was around eight hundred thousand square feet.

This structure was also not found in any other map nor was it a structure that was on any government registry.

“I think we found it,” Hall said. He ordered more satellite photos of the area as well as several aircraft overflights.

“Okay. While we’re waiting, I’m going to arrange for us to fly over there.”

The director stepped out of the room.

Flight to the Boonies

“Doc,” Faye said to Dr. Penny. “We gotta come with you.”

“Faye, it’ll be really dangerous.”

“Dr. Penny!” Carla said, “Michael’s our friend - you gotta let us go with you!”

Of course, in the end, Faye was able to convince Dr. Penny, and she agreed and prevailed over Director Hall to let the two go with them. Faye was very persuasive, too.

In an hour, they were en route to Wyoming on a military flight that Hall commandeered.

They were still an hour out when the director got the pictures from the satellite and aircraft overflights. It turned out that the structure was a large castle. From the size, it was smaller than the Windsor Castle in England, but not by much. What was notable, though, were the gun emplacements, the anti-aircraft batteries, and the missile launchers.

Because of this, the director asked for assistance from the military. Idaho and Wyoming army and National Guard units were activated and should be at the location when they got there.

Director Hall, Dr. Penny, and their group landed in Kemerrer Municipal Airport, a small municipal airport to the east of the coordinates of the location. Good thing the airport was just large enough to manage their plane. They then took some military trucks and traveled overland, and by five AM, were already at the army’s staging area a few miles to the south of the “castle.”

The staging area was not much at the moment, but the army was doing a competent job, and it was already in operation.

It was obvious that they’d been discovered already. A couple of civilian planes took off from the airstrip they found and had flown over their location.

For their part, a couple of military choppers flew over their castle, and the army people started reconnoitering and mapping. Apparently, the castle was well fortified against ground attack and had serious air defense weaponry. The extreme size of the facility also implied that they could hold out for quite a while. Using ground penetrating radar, they also saw half a dozen underground tunnels radiating outward – maybe supply or escape tunnels.

As they were consolidating their forces, the military had been trying to contact Smith’s forces, but they couldn’t solicit any response despite the fact they knew they were capable: the military were detecting encrypted radio messages.

When a large convoy of National Guardsmen arrived on the scene and was making its way to their encampment, a rocket was fired from the castle and it hit one of the trucks loaded with men. The men from the other vehicles jumped out and scattered, some helping to pull out the men in the burning truck.

“Well, that’s torn it,” the current commanding officer said. “Call in the air guard,” he said, “and take out their rocket launchers and gun emplacements.”

Several attack helicopters came and started approaching the castle but were shot down before they got close. From there, fighter jets were called in. They fired their missiles from a distance and destroyed all of the castle’s missile launchers.

Thinking that they were safe, more Air National Guard helicopters moved in, but they were met with more rockets from hidden launchers. The decision was made to bombard the castle, with special emphasis on structures that could be hiding launchers.

Hercules Smith’s people started escaping like rats leaving a sinking ship. There were soldiers to intercept them but knowing there was no returning to their “master,” most of them fought to the death to escape. But since it was just a measly thousand or so, they stood no chance. What was on their side was that they were way more well-equipped. Even so, the professional soldiers outclassed Smith’s weekend warriors - it was more like a rout than a battle.

Those who thought to escape via the tunnels were easily picked off by the army, and they ran back inside.

For some reason, none of them thought to surrender. Dr. Penny’s theory was that, with their experience with “Hercules,” they felt they wouldn’t be allowed to surrender. By eleven in the morning, it was essentially over. The castle was in ruins and bodies littered the ground, especially around the six tunnel exits.

Carla and Faye stood, surveying the chaos, Carla crying.

“At least it’s over now, sweetie,” Faye said.

“What about Michael?”

- - - - -

Carla and Faye stood inside the field tent with Drs. Penny, Maia, Director Hall, and his people. One of Smith’s people that they captured alive gave them a cell number and they called it. They finally connected.

“This is Director Carter Hall of Homeland Security speaking to Mr. Hercules Smith.” There was no reply, and the video was off.

After a minute of no reaction, they tried the video again. “This is Director Carter Hall, speaking to Mr. Hercules Smith in the castle. Mr. Smith, please respond. Your people are dead or are in custody. It’s all over.”

With no reaction, Dr. Penny grabbed the smartphone and faced the camera towards her. “Erin this is Dr. Castellanos. Come on, dear. Please respond.”

The video suddenly switched on, with Smith in the video, in full Greek warrior regalia. “My name is Hercules!” he roared. “I am not Erin anymore! Don’t forget that!”

“Whatever you want. Listen - you can’t escape. All exits are sealed. The entire outside of your castle is covered by our gunners. So surrender yourself and bring out my student.”

“No!”

“Erin…”

“My name is Hercules!”

“Please… Surrender yourself…”

“If you want your god, come and get him. But I warn you, I’m not giving him up.”

“How do we even know he’s still there with you, and still alive?”

Smith leaned out of the shot and pulled Michael into the picture by his collar. Michael had a black eye, a broken nose, and bleeding. Smith then threw him away like a ragdoll.

“Come and get him,” he grated and then hung up.

- - - - - -

Drs. Penny and Maia conferred with Director Hall and his people, trying to think of a way to get Smith and rescue Michael. But after thirty minutes, they were no closer to a plan. Maia looked around.

“Hey, “ she said. “Where’s Faye and Carla?”

- - - - - -

The two friends were running towards the castle, both wearing backpacks. As they ran towards the castle, they stopped to pick up bits of equipment that were in their path. In a while, they had walkie-talkies, sidearms, and other stuff in their backpacks. Faye picked up one M27 automatic rifle with a grenade launcher. She gave the rifle to Carla and kept four handguns for herself. Faye also unclipped some bandoleers from some bodies they found with several ammo clips attached.

Faye took off the retro-fashionable but impractical parachute pants she wore, leaving her in safety shorts (which she wore underneath the pants) and combat boots. This allowed her to clip a couple of the bandoleers around her waist like belts, and shortened a few others, allowing her to strap them onto her thighs and biceps.

Carla whistled. “Wow. Lara Croft has nothing on you.”

Faye stuck her tongue out at her. “Come on,” she said, and they moved forward through the wreckage.

In less than fifteen minutes, they were already at the castle’s ruined main gate. Before they could pick their way in, someone shouted.

Carla swung around and fired her rifle blindly in full automatic. She didn’t hit anything but it made Smith’s surviving minions duck for cover.

That allowed Faye to pull Carla into the castle with her, and they ran inside.

When they stopped, Carla puffed, “Where do we go now?”

Faye closed her eyes, paying attention to the funny feelings she’d been getting. She could sense Michael. “We go this way,” Faye said, and pulled Faye with her, deeper into the castle.

Faye led them unerringly to what looked like an interrogation room and found Michael inside, strapped to a chair and half-dead. Carla ran to Michael and hugged him. Michael moaned.

“Don’t Carla,” Faye said. “You’re hurting him.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “What do we do now, Faye?”

“We bring him out. Let’s tip him back in the chair, I’ll take two of the chair legs, you take the top.”

Soon, they were retracing their way back the way they came, but in minutes, they were forced to take cover as some of Smith’s people found them.

After they had taken cover in an intersection, they returned fire. Though they were safe, they were stuck, that was until they heard other people firing from down the hall.

Dr. Penny and Maia ran up the hall, firing all the way, and ducked into their corner of the hallway.

“You crazy girls!” Maia said and gave the two hugs.

“How about Director Hall and the military?” Carla said.

“They’re somewhere around. We decided to go on our own.”

“How did you find us?” Faye asked.

“We just followed the firing. Nice outfit, Faye,” Dr. Maia said with a smile.

“Sorry, ‘bout that,” Faye said as she turned red in embarrassment. “My pants were…”

“I saw,” Dr. Maia said. “I understand.”

Dr. Penny checked Michael out. “He’s in a bad way,” she said. “We got to get him to a hospital ASAP.”

“How?” Carla said. “We’re stuck here.”

“Someone needs to stay and hold them back,” Faye said.

“Okay, you’re right,” Dr. Penny said. “You girls…”

“No,” Faye said, “it’s going to be me.”

“Faye…”

“It’s my fault, Doc. Michael didn’t need to go through this, and all these people got hurt or died because of me.”

“No, they didn’t, Faye. How can it be your fault? Erin is crazy.”

“No, I’m not, Doctor,” they heard Smith over the intercom. Somehow it was still working.

“So you can hear us?” Dr. Penny said.

“Yes, indeed. You have my leave to go, Doctor. All of you. Except Faye.”

“Erin…”

“I have suspected that I made a mistake. Your boy is clearly not anything special. He is no god.”

“He is, too, special!” Carla shouted.

“I thought Cora made a mistake,” Smith said.

“Cora?” Dr. Penny said.

“Cora Atanasos. She wasn’t much of a spy. Do with her what you will. I give her to you.”

“Who’s Cora Atanasos?” Faye asked.

“I think she’s one of the lab techs at the main facility in Athens,” Dr. Penny said. “I’m not sure.”

“You may go now,” Smith said. “Leave your goddess. I will deal with her.”

“’Goddess?’” Carla asked.

“She’s referring to Faye, Carla,” Maia said.

“What?”

“I am getting impatient!” Smith said. “Leave us! Now! Otherwise, my people will resume their shooting!”

They suddenly realized that Smith’s men had stopped shooting.

Faye made a decision. “Penny,” Faye said, “it’s okay. Michael needs help.” Faye’s referring to the doctor by name was a little… incongruous, to say the least, but they didn’t question it.

“Faye… I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” Faye said and gave her a kiss on the lips. That was… incongruous, too.

“Well…”

Faye ran her fingers lightly over Dr. Penny’s right arm. “Please.”

“All right.” Dr. Penny sighed. She nodded to Carla and Maia. “let’s go girls.”

Before they went, Faye gave Carla a toe-curling kiss. “Just in case we don’t see each other again – I just wanted to say I love you. And Michael, too.”

“Faye…”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Maia and Dr. Penny picked up Michael in his chair, just like the way Faye and Carla did.

For her part, Carla unslung her rifle and covered them as they walked down the hall. Carle didn’t know guns, but she looked pretty much the part.

Faye dropped her backpack, took our two fresh pistols from the backpack and replaced the clips with two from her belt.

She also picked another bandoleer which she strapped over her shoulder across her chest. This one was full of hand grenades this time. Five had the usual timed fuses and five were contact grenades. Faye didn’t know the difference – all she knew was what she saw in movies. She took a deep breath, stuck to the wall, and peeked around it. No one was following the girls. But then…

“Entaxei antres,” Smith said in greek, “tous dosame arketo chrono. Boreíte na tous kynigísete tora.”

Faye didn’t understand, but judging by the reaction of Smith’s people, she understood from context. What Smith said in Greek was, “All right, men, we've given them enough time. You can hunt them down now.”

The men originally after them screamed an ululating yell and started running out from behind their hiding places.

Faye thought they couldn’t trust Smith’s word. So she stepped out of her own hiding place and threw a couple of grenades. The explosion scattered them like tenpins. She brought out her two pistols and picked off the survivors – not killing them, of course, but just incapacitating them.

She stood her ground as yet another wave of attackers appeared. She threw another couple of grenades and it was a repeat of the first one.

There was a third wave but there were only four people this time. Faye thought Smith may be running out of people, yet he would throw his remaining people away like this.

After a few more minutes Faye decided to start moving. She decided to end this Hercules Smith.

She thought about that. It was arrogant that she would even think that she could do this. But it wasn’t arrogance: it was just supreme confidence. Inside, she knew she will make it – not “could” but “will.”

She didn’t know what came over her. For whatever reason, it was like something inside her clicked, and her worries about herself and self-doubts had been resolved, replaced by a quiet certainty that whatever she wanted or puts in her mind, she will make it happen. It’s been coming for a while now, actually. It was like the crisis had finally made things click into place. Why, she didn’t know but didn’t care. She was confident that she had stabilized now. She resolved to talk to Penny and Maia later and figure it out.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 32: Girly-Girl

 

She walked through the halls surveying the destruction wrought by the army. There were no people around and no bodies. Faye assumed that the people had all evacuated, but she suspected it wasn’t so much an evacuation as it was an escape. Smith’s psychopathic nature would preclude anything else.

She saw a suspicious-looking doorway, took out the last of the grenades and threw them into the room.

After the explosion, she took off the now-useless bandoleer across her chest and peeked into the room. She was right – there were several men inside.

She continued on.

After a while, Faye passed by another door and peeked inside – it was a big room, with drapes and fixtures that made it look and feel like a woman’s boudoir, dressed up and appointed in a Greco-Roman style.

Curious, she stepped inside, A four-post canopy bed dominated the room, and nearby was a dresser and closet. No mirrors, though.

She looked through the closet, and it was full of suits, shirts, and pants, but in gigantic sizes. “After all,” Faye giggled and thought, “Smith can’t wear anything below a size 20XL.”

But hanging at the very end of the closet’s pole, she saw some clothes, also of the same dimensions, but they were all more appropriate for women. Nothing fancy – just everyday clothes, but what were they doing there, and why in Smith’s sizes?

She looked through the dressers, and all of the drawers were full of men’s clothes in the same sizes, but in the bottom drawer of one of the dressers, it was full of women’s clothes, also in the same sizes. She rifled through them and found a bunch of pictures. It was Smith when he was still Erin…

Faye sighed. “Poor Erin…” She had an inkling of what Smith had gone through now. For Faye, changing from a boy to a girl wasn’t a bad thing at all. She had family and friends supporting her. And she was now very happy. But for Erin… The world had not been kind to her. But at this point, it’s too late. If he isn’t stopped… At the very least, Faye could end his suffering.

She went out and continued on. She encountered no one else and heard some commotion at the end of the passage. She looked up and there were breaks in the roof letting in shafts of sunlight. It seemed this part of the castle got the worst of the bombing.

There was a pair of double doors at the end of the hall. The noise was coming from inside.

Faye put one of her pistols into her shorts’ waistband and freed up one of her hands to slowly swing open one of the doors. Inside, she saw “Hercules” Smith raging and throwing around chairs and tables.

It was a kind of meeting hall, with many arches and, through them, many doors leading to where Faye didn’t know. There were steps below the arches, like steps in a stairway, making the room appear like an Ekklesiasterion - where the ancient Greek senate would meet, or perhaps the Curia – the ancient Romans’ version.

The bombs had shredded the meeting hall’s roof, as well, shafts of sunlight breaking through. There were also fires still burning, and in the middle, like an out-of-control bear or lion, was “Hercules,” in full ancient Greek uniform, roaring and raging and throwing around broken tables and chairs. He had lost his prize and was venting his rage at no one.

“You should cool it, dude,” Faye said.

Smith stopped. His head snapped around, his eyes focusing on Faye.

“I’m Faye,” she said. “I think you were looking for me? Sorry if we had to tear down your castle around you.”

Smith dropped the table he was holding in mid-throw.

“So,” Smith boomed, “the Endowment’s god is actually a goddess… Come closer little goddess – let me look at you.”

“Your so-called kingdom is in ruins now, Smith,” Faye said, slowly walking down the steps to the sunken oval in the middle where Smith was. She kept her pistols at the ready. “You should give up your plans and turn yourself in.”

“I am a god!” he boomed. “The humans should kneel before me and grovel!”

“You’re psychotic, you know? We aren’t really gods. We’re just humans, too – maybe more finely tuned but we are nevertheless still humans.”

“Tell me, my little goddess, can any human do this?” He stooped and ripped a big, fifteen-foot portion of the oval. He then threw it to towards Faye, making her duck behind a pile of rubble.

“You cower, little goddess,” Smith said. “Maybe you’re not a god like me.”

“Let me clue you in, psychopath – sure, you can call yourself a god, but we aren’t literally gods. The ancients weren’t really gods. Like I said, we are just humans.”

“No! We embody the return of the ancient times! We are destined to rule the world! We are destined to rule mortal men!”

What – you think you’re immortal?”

I am! I must be…” He trailed.

The sound of his lost voice made her change her tone.

“It must have been really bad, for you,” Faye said, “changing into a boy with no explanation… I’m sorry…”

“What? It was glorious! I became a god!”

Faye shook her head. “No. What was your Kodikos score again?”

“Does it matter?”

“You only have an eighty-five score. How can you be?”

“It doesn’t matter!” he grated. ”An eighty-five percent match is enough! I don’t need anything higher!”

“Dr. Castellanos has an eighty-five score, too. Is she a god?”

“She could have been. But she has thrown her lot with the mortals.”

“Do you know my score?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Eighty? Eighty-one?”

“Mine is one hundred.”

He looked at me. “You lie.”

“Nope!” she said, feigning nonchalance just to irritate him.

“You lie!” He picked up another piece of broken furniture and hurled it at her. She brought her arm up and batted it away. Unbelievable pain exploded in her forearm, but she was able to clamp down on it. She knew that it was broken but the damage should have been more severe. She also knew it would be fixed. But she needed to get this over with, broken arm or not.

Smith looked at her in shock, that she just batted the big table away. He looked around and found his helmet, Hoplon shield, Xiphos sword, and Doru spear. He put on the helmet, picked up the shield and sword, and started walking towards Faye. Faye fired at him but he blocked it with his shield. The thin brass overlay was punctured by the bullet but the plastic and Kevlar stopped it.

Smith snickered. “Try again, little goddess.”

Faye, using both guns, fired repeatedly, walking the bullets over his shield in a diagonal straight line. She finished off her bullets, and then rapidly switched out the used-up clips for fresh ones. She changed the clips of both her guns at least three times firing at the shield in the same place over and over again.

Kevlar was good armor material, but unlike metal, it was the stretching of the individual fibers of the aramid material that absorbed the kinetic energy of the bullets, but being hit in the same place over and over, it would rupture.

In less than fifteen seconds, Smith’s shield fell apart into two pieces. He looked at Faye in shock.

With a rebel yell, he rushed at her.

Calmly, Faye shot him five times in the middle of his face, in the so-called “T-Box.” Smith fell to the floor, instantaneously dead.

Faye, with silent tears flowing down her face, walked to the now-dead Hercules Smith. She sat beside him and cradled his head on her lap. It wasn’t that she had become cold-blooded, but she knew with full certainty that what she had to do was necessary. Nevertheless, she felt for the troubled now-dead demigod. It was necessary to end him. For the Endowment, the schools, for her, her family, and her friends. For the world.

“I’m so sorry, Erin,” she whispered. “Rest now. It’s all over.”

After a few minutes, Director Hall and his soldiers, with Penny and Maia, rushed in. Penny saw Faye and the now-dead Hercules Smith.

“Oh, Faye…” Penny said.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 33: Revelation

 

It was several months now after the events in Wyoming, what the Homeland Security people were calling the “Little War.” Penny, with assistance from Faye and her… highly persuasive nature, was able to convince all of the powers-that-be to cover up everything. The rest of the world knew nothing about it, with Smith’s “fortress,” supposed to be demolished and cleared. But the Endowment arranged to have the land and castle ceded to the Greek government – not a small thing even if it was government land. The advantage was, that it didn’t necessitate the courts or Congress to be involved. The Greek government then sold it lock, stock, and barrel to the Endowment. After all, their government had a pressing need for hard currency, and the Endowment, with Dr. Penny’s untiring work, was swimming in funds. They needed a better facility than Archimedes, Penny rationalized, and the castle and the land was a steal at a billion dollars.

The reconstruction of the “fortress” was according to Penny’s and Faye’s specifications, and was in alignment with the Endowment’s plans to expand its operations from epigenetics to other areas of medical science.

By then, everyone in the Endowment had accepted Faye a “full match.” But whether she was a god (“I prefer ‘goddess’ actually,” Faye would say), no one could confirm that. Even so, everyone followed Faye’s every little request and found in their hearts an explicable devotion to Faye.

The evidence was incontrovertible. To Penny and everyone at the Endowment, they really did think of Faye as a “goddess,” although Faye herself kept on saying she was just a human, although a different, more improved kind, perhaps. To others who didn’t know about the Kodikos maps and the “Golden Theory,” though, they didn’t connect Faye to a god. All they knew was that Faye was incredibly beautiful.

It was a little bit pointless to have Faye go through the rest of her senior year at Troy, given that she routinely aced her exams and such. So they had given her an “apprenticeship” in the newly-founded International Foundation for Science and Research, located in a facility in the wilds of Wyoming. This was easily done because it was under the management of her teacher and mentor, Dr. Penelope Castellanos. Faye did return to Troy every couple of weeks, and it was always a fun time for Faye and her friends.

Faye also went back home at least once a month, to visit her folks as well as Carla and Michael (Michael had largely recovered from his time with Smith, and he was as good as before, though he will remember his time as Smith’s hostage forever).

Except for Carla and Michael, none of his family and friends understood what had happened, except that there was a shooting. As for Carla and Michael, they had to be told the complete truth. But Carla and Michael took it in stride, as they already knew something was different with Faye. It wasn’t much of a revelation, really.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

CHAPTER 34: Prologue Revisited

 

In Saint John, January and February were pretty cold, but then it was just as cold in Wyoming. And Faye didn’t mind it much – whether he was back in Saint John or was working in the “institute” in Wyoming. But by then, the work on the fortress was already done, and the institute started its enhanced and expanded work, with Faye being a central part of the institute’s operations.

With many admirers among the staff, one of them - a very bright lab technician - designed a kind of… foundation undergarment. Faye, although already stabilized, was still undergoing puberty. So he designed a kind of girdle for her, to enhance her figure into a more mature one. Using research on present fashion styles, he designed the garment to be tight at strategic points and gave her the figure that made her fit all the clothes she loved to wear and make her look spectacular. Even so, it was designed to allow Faye to feel comfortable and move freely. And Faye would wear it if she needed to look extra sexy, or needed a kind of confidence boost.

It was very effective, actually. So much so that everyone who knew about it called it the “Aphrodite Girdle,” named after Aphrodite’s famous magical girdle. There wasn’t anything magical about it – it was just a well-designed compression girdle that made Faye’s waist a little smaller, and enhanced her hips and lifted and improved the profile of her still-growing breasts. But it worked. Then again, anything that Faye wore seemed to be perfect.

But then she seemed to do almost everything she did perfectly. Maia said that it wasn’t anything spectacular – it was just Faye’s innate beauty and her ability to pick up things quickly, evaluate things fast and almost automatically, and retain things much like someone with a photographic memory. But even knowing that, it didn’t really matter – Faye was Faye.

When everything in the institute-slash-fortress-slash-castle was done, Faye took a couple of days off to visit Florence, Italy with Carla and Michael. It was only for a few days, but when she got back, the Institute went into full-blast operation.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

CHAPTER 35: College Years

 

Greek System

After Graduation, Faye needed to go to college, to at least get the college degrees and doctorates that she needed to further her work.

For convenience, she chose the College of Idaho to be near the institute, and then she could get any advanced degrees after that. Also, she loved the Greek System over there – the sororities and such appealed to her girly-girl side. Carla and Michael, as well as her friends from Troy House, followed her to CI, except for Arianne who went back to France to study Design and Fashion, and Ashanti who had decided to continue her career as a model. Her old boyfriend, Craig, bowed out of their relationship – he couldn’t accept being just a part-time boyfriend. Just as well, because Craig probably couldn’t have taken the competition: in CI, Faye didn’t have any steady boyfriend or girlfriend, but she really did play the field. The closest Faye had to a boyfriend or girlfriend was Michael or Carla, or, maybe more accurately, Michael and Carla.

It was a wonderful and fulfilling life for Faye, working closely with Penny and Maia, finding more and more kids that had Kodikos scores of fifty or higher, expanding the number of Endowment schools, and developing more gene therapy cures.

But, other than that, Faye and her friends were enjoying their lives as college students, and Faye, for her part, was determined to make the most of this time. College life was great, although, Faye had to admit, being a “goddess” was even better.

Batch Fourteen

Faye found that the Endowment had, in the past, tried to raise people’s Kodikos scores by artificial means. Still, all of the programs they tried were failures, except for a small program initiated in a lab of theirs in Gothenburg, Sweden, and pilot-tested in a small town in the USA.

The cover was that it was a kind of vitamin supplement, and no one knew what it really was, but in all of their formulations, nothing was effective except for one case with their last batch – the fourteenth batch: a female test subject was affected. The epigenetic changes gave her a better metabolism and resistance to cardiovascular diseases, as well as resistance to most viral and bacterial infections. But during her trial program period, she became pregnant, and her children (they were twins) were also affected.

It was a set of fraternal twins – one a girl and one a boy. The girl was affected in a way similar to the mother, but as for the boy…

From all the reports they got, the boy underwent a spontaneous change just like Smith and Faye i.e. a gender change, but the difference was, his transition from boy to girl wasn’t triggered by the application of Ambrosia. His change was gradual and started from the day he was born and accelerated rapidly when he hit fifteen or sixteen. The thing was, his transition wasn’t complete.

He was showing most of the things that the Endowment’s higher-scoring graduates did, but overall, he was mostly similar to Faye. There were differences, though. For example, instead of being tall, the boy was barely above five feet. But the main issue was that his change to a girl was incomplete. That, and there was one other effect that never happened to any of their graduates: it was a kind of thing connected to his perspiration or something – they weren’t sure.

It seems that he affected other people, and made them extremely… friendly to the boy. However, the effect was not uniform – it was sometimes deadly. One of his friends (per the report Faye read, the name of that friend was Kyle), had some very bad psychological problems that may have been induced by the boy’s… pheromones. Kyle’s family moved so that he could be hear specialists who could help him.

The program was quickly suspended because it was an apparent failure, but when they discovered the mother and her children again (especially the boy), they were now looking at the program again, and trying to find out about the side effects unique to the boy. Faye ordered that the mother and children be tested to see if they had high Kodikos scores and to look into that boy that had the mental problems. It seemed that all three had relatively high Kodikos scores but was just a hair under fifty. Whether the scores were that way before or after the trial tests, no one knew.

Also, they discovered the family years after the program was ended. But before then…

To recoup some of their expenses, their lab in Sweden reformulated the batch fourteen formulation into an additive to a vitamin health supplement – they thought that it was harmless after all, and it had some great health benefits. It hasn’t gone mainstream yet, but before they could, they rediscovered the boy and his family.

For now, they stopped production of the health supplement, and were contemplating stopping the sale of the supplement. The company that they subcontracted to market and sell the health supplement didn’t stop selling it, however, as they waited for instructions. The Endowment’s research unit didn’t recall the remaining stock, so the retail company continued to sell the product. Per the expiration dates on their remaining stock, the health supplements would actually be safe to use for fifteen more years so the company had enough stock to last them a long time.

But in their worry that the health supplements may be recalled any minute now, they contacted their best customers, mostly small health supplement companies in the US, offering them discounts on bulk purchases. One of their best customers, a small nondescript clinic in New York City, actually placed an order for five thousand twelve-pill and thirty-pill bottles of the health supplement, both in the once-a-day and the once-a-month formulations. It was, by far, their largest single order. The order was placed by a “Sally Schmidt, RN,” and confirmed by her boss, Dr. Joeseph Muller, MD (based on the signature, it seems Dr. Muller liked to call himself “Dr. Joe”).

Other than that, however, the Endowment had no other programs that were even remotely successful. Faye ordered more research. In the meantime, she had asked Penny to establish more Endowment schools to allow them to find more of the students that they couldn’t help before.

Mr. Daimon, for his part, fast-tracked the repair and reconstruction of the damage at Delos and did his best to assist and console the families of the students who were hurt or had died. By then, Faye had learned that Mr. Daimon was the one who actually ran the school and not the principal. That way, he could remain under the radar. Faye also learned that all the Endowment schools had a “Daimon” who had different titles and positions and secretly oversaw the schools. For Delos, it was the vice principal. Whatever their original names, they were “Daimon” now. Faye should have realized something, given the name “Daimon.” For Troy, the daimon was actually Theo, Penny’s assistant.

There was a groundswell of goodwill and support from the communities for Delos and the other two schools that were attacked, and there was state legislation being contemplated now to address these mass shootings.

But other than that, the country and the rest of the world were none the wiser.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me

 

It was a different world a hundred years later, although in most things, it was all largely the same.

There were fewer wars now, or at least fewer than in the 2020s, and they were making strides in stemming global warming and its devastating effects. But in most other things, global society was about the same. The worldwide population was so high now that many countries were only twelve months or so away from economic collapse.

There were lots of economic incentive programs, though, to ensure a decline of national population birth rates – nothing as draconic as the One-Child Policy of the late twentieth century, but in some of the richer and more advanced nations, there were signs of a population decline. In fact the current year was the first to show a net global decline. Granted it was just a 0.02% decline, but many still claimed it as a triumph.

And, sure there was more tech and more science, but the fundamental human condition had not really changed.

One thing, though, that remained the same was that the world was still oblivious to the real work of the Endowment.

One of the bigger things that happened, however, was that Greece was now a monarchy – has been for years now. It was ruled by Queen Aphrodite (the name, of course, was just something that the queen adopted), but through her benevolent rule, Greece was now considered one of the world’s major powers. She had ruled for over sixty years but had quietly passed away in her sleep just weeks before her ninety-first birthday. And though the country was in mourning, they were secure in the thought that the queen’s successor was waiting in the wings to take over the throne and continue the reign of the royal family of Calista (many felt that the name was appropriate – the name “Calista” meant “most beautiful” in Greek – just like the queen and her daughter).

The new queen had chosen the name Aphrodite II, and was to take the throne in historical Athens, in the Palace of Aphrodite, a royal palace erected by a grateful people of Greece fifty years ago, and modeled after several ancient Greek structures. Several hundred meters away from the palace was the tall Lelantos Corporate Tower. Lelantos was one of the most powerful, maybe the most powerful corporation in the world. Among many other things, it also ran the Aristotle Endowment, a large nonprofit organization which was famous for running the “Endowment Schools” – there were now fifty of them all over the world.

Anyway, the palace was now the royal residence and seat of power, and Queen Aphrodite II was to take her oath there in a few days, in a ceremony to be officiated by the country’s President of the Supreme Court in the palace’s main ballroom.

Copies of the new sovereign’s portrait had been distributed to all of Greece’s government offices and included several dozen specially-commissioned ones that were destined to replace her mother’s portraits in several museums and galleries in the world. The best ones, though, were hung in the Parthenon of Nashville and the National Hellenic Museum in Chicago – Faye’s old hometown - replacing the current ones of her mother.

The new queen was very beautiful, just as beautiful as her mother. The museum’s curator was on record saying that the new queen bore a great resemblance to her mother and even said that they were like twins. But then he said, wasn’t that the case between mothers and daughters? That the child would look like the parents?

- - - - -

Faye walked to her bedchamber from yet another reception with several heads of state. She was hard to miss – besides being totally gorgeous, she was six-foot six. She was surrounded by her royal retinue.

In times like these, she’d have much preferred to be surrounded by her friends instead of a bunch of employees and sycophants. She missed her folks and her old gang, especially Arianne and her irreverent humor. But she most missed Carla and Michael, her two closest friends in the world. But they had all passed away. All that was left of her old friends were Dr. Penny Castellanos and Dr. Maia Griffin. If one were to look at Penny, though, Penny looked like a well-turned out older lady of about fifty, even though she was actually a little over one hundred-fifty. Maia, though, looked more like an eighty-year old, and was wheelchair-bound now, even though she and Penny were roughly the same age.

As for herself, she looked just like how she did in her twenties. Over the years, she used hair coloring and makeup to look older so no one would twig to her essential difference, but since she was having trouble keeping up appearances, she decided to pass the torch to her “daughter,” although it was just actually just her without any makeup or hair coloring.

Faye wondered if she really was immortal, but it didn’t really matter. She suspected that if her head was cut off or had a spear thrown through her heart, she’d probably die, but if she didn’t suffer any physical kind of traumatic injury, she could very well live for as long as she liked. She suspected that she won’t want to live forever, though, but she wanted to at least get the Endowment to a position that it’ll be actively impacting humanity in a big way.

So far, in Faye’s one hundred years, they have never found another person with a one hundred Kodikos score. They’ve turned up a few people with an eighty-five score, and thankfully none of them were psychotic like Smith, and all of them were currently positive and productive members of Penny’s staff. Also, none of them were a match to the Ares map, but she had given orders that, just to be safe, if they find another Ares match that has a score higher than seventy, they weren’t going to progress that person and allow that person to pass to age twenty without any ambrosia.

When they understood what happened to Smith, Faye might rescind that, but it’s best to play safe. They even have Smith’s body in deep freeze so they could continue testing him and maybe discover how he became that way. So far, they couldn’t find anything. The best theory at the moment was that Erin was mentally unbalanced to begin with (which was corroborated by her history).

Joey, one of their Eighty-Fives was leading the team that was handling her new coronation. His map was a Zeus match and he was a great leader and take-charge kind of guy, and everyone hopped to it when he gave some instructions.

Another of their Eighty-Fives, Abbey, was in charge of one of their new companies which was into product R&D, and they’ve had several patents already for devices that have a high sales potential for the DIY market. The revenue will go a long way to keeping the Endowment’s operations going.

Faye knew she was doing okay because the Endowment was growing from strength to strength at the moment. The Endowment now had fifty schools spread throughout the world, in countries where Eugene, another of their Eighty-Fives, had ascertained had high Kodikos potential. Eugene’s DNA match was the Aphrodite map, just like Penny and Faye, and he was the most gorgeous boy she’d ever seen. If one was looking for a poster boy for the stereotypical pretty boy, Eugene was it. He was perfectly sweet and kind. Also, he was one of the Endowment’s gay graduates.

Faye, Penny, and Maia had a new theory (well, actually an old one) that the behavior of the graduates was influenced by the Kodikos map they were matched with. There was a bit of correlation between behavior and the DNA map, but only if the person had a score that was seventy or higher. For everyone else, it didn’t matter. Faye used this as a yardstick, and, of course, her people followed her lead.

Among the many new developments in the twenty-second century was something Faye was very interested in. There were possibilities now that a multi-generational spaceship that was able to fly at eighty percent the speed of light was just around the corner, and it should be a reality in ten or twenty years. She was therefore in a hurry to get her house and the Endowment in order, and find a worthy successor. Both for her throne and for the Endowment, because what she really wanted to do now was to be part of this effort. Actually, what she wanted was to be part of the first interstellar crew to explore a new planet.

One thing at a time, of course. Get the coronation over, fix up the Endowment and then find a successor. Her Star Trek dreams will have to wait.

 

click here to read my old Working Girl Blogs, click here to read my old Family Girl Blogs, click here to read ALL of my blogs, click here to read my stories here in BCTS, click here to leave me a Private Message, and click here to see my profile & know more about me