Jesus Calls O'er The Tumult
By
Recca Anna Coleman
A Daisy Isabella Potter Special
Chapter Two of Thee

The traditional attire for young women, often ages twelve to eighteen who are to be confirmed into the Episcopal Church is a pearl white, floor length gown with long sleeves and white gloves. Their hair is often worn down, and a matching white bridal veil is placed on their forehead. Make-up if allowed is the bare minimum.

And so there I stood, gazing into the full, floor length mirror. The reflection that greeted me was not one that I expected. For the first time since I had quietly accepted the fact to myself that I was indeed transgender and for the first time from the outset of starting my own personal transition. I had to accept the fact that I was indeed beautiful. Now if that sounds vain, I will forgive you for thinking so. But please allow me to explain.

I have been battling gender dysphoria for the better part of three or four years now. Sometimes I won and drove that bastard from the field, other times he won and left me cowarding under my covers. But today I felt like I'd finally beaten him, that from today to the end of my days I could live true to myself.

“Sister.” I heard a voice call out. I could tell by the cadence that the voice did not belong to either Lily or Jamie. But it was a tone of voice I knew since the day I first drew breath. It was my own flesh and blood sister. So, I quickly turned around and there in the doorway stood a brunette girl, around my height.

“Oh hey..” I paused. “Hey Sue.”

Without saying a word the woman walked into my room and then she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. She pulled me close to her breast and then she placed her chin atop mine.

“I'm sorry.” She said after holding me for a very long time.

“About?” I asked, confused.

“About us sending you away like this. Daddy and mommy should have kept you in Vicksburg! We could have enrolled at one of the Catholic private schools, we could have even sent you to the public school!It was wrong! It was wrong!”

Susan seemed quite upset.

“Hey! Hey! It's okay.. I mean maybe coming to Benton was for the best you know? I mean if I stayed in Vicksburg, I doubt I could have cracked the egg. I doubt I would have ever met Cerridwen, much less become a cheerleader. Or played Dotty, or gone on any of the misadventures I've had here.”

Susan pulled herself away from me and then looked me in the eyes.

“I was robbed though..” She said at last.

I titled my head to the side.

“I was robbed of the chance of having a little sister! I was robbed of the chance of watching you grow up! I was robbed, I want my little sister back! I want to be part of her life. I want to help you shop for your first prom dress! I want to help you find that perfect debutante gown!” Susan was crying now.

“That's what big sisters are for! Big sisters get to have these moments with their little sisters! I should have been there when you broke your arm! I should have been there to carry you into the bone-yard! I should have been there to hold your hand when you went under!” Susan's voice was slowly rising.

“Hey!” I said blushing as I held my hands up. “Come down sis, I understand, you were in Vicksburg. You were studying for the ACT test. And I heard you passed the thing with flying colors! Like wow a twenty four! That's amazing!” I said smiling

It was at that moment another woman appeared in the doorway. A woman that was slightly older than Susan and I, a woman who had jet black hair, her lavender colored eyes seemed full of remorse. She also seemed like she was walking on egg shells and given her history with the Potter Clan I don't really blame her. Her name was Linda Bell and she had once been best friends with Lily Potter.

“You look beautiful, little sister.” Linda said softly.

I paused.

“Yes, yes she does.” Susan said.

It was at that moment I felt Susan and Linda move a little closer and soon they were holding me tight. I was sandwiched behind Susan on my left and Linda on my right. I felt the warmth of their bodies, and smelled their perfume. How long we hugged I'm not sure, but I guess a full minute passed. Before Linda broke off the hug and smiled as she looked down at the floor of my bedroom.

“We should get going, the others are waiting.” Linda said. And with that she left the room.

As soon as Linda had left the room. Susan turned to me, her eyes met my eyes and then in an airy tone of voice she said.

“You know, we kept your room the way it was. Mom refuse to dad change a thing. It's still your room. They gave Linda the guest room. Which of course became her room and it will forever be her room. Just like your room will forever be your room. Come home, home back to your mothers house. Come back, please to where you will be surrounded by the fellowship of your family.” Susans said as she reached down and took me by the hand.

“You were wronged. You were mistreated. You were misunderstood. Please, dear little sister, give us a chance to right that wrong. To make-up for our past mistakes, to give. To make new memories that will hopefully wash away the old ones.” Susan was near tears at this point.

“I'm afraid..” I said reaching down to take hold of Susan's hands.

“I'm afraid we are past that point. Uncle Robert has made his position clear on my transition. Our grandmother, who still controls the family, has also made her point quite clear. I'm afraid I'll not be allowed to return to our house until the old woman has finally passed from this earth to her reward in the afterlife.” I said, closing my eyes.

“Sisters.” A voice called from the doorway. It was Linda again.

“The whole of the extended Potter Family has gathered in the foray. Mother and Father too await us. And the bell's, no pun intended of St. Francis and All Saint's Catholic Church, are calling the faithful to divine service.” Linda closed her eyes. She looked quite pale. Like a sickly Victorian child. Maybe this was too much for her damaged soul to bear, being in the house of a family who once scolded. And being in a town that once rejected her because of the actions of her misguided Father.

“Thank you dear sister,” I said looking into Sue's eyes.

“It's time.” And with that I left my room.

It was a short walk down the hallway and an even shorter walk down the stairwell. But once I reached the bottom step. I found myself surrounded by people. A sea of people. Linda had not been lying when she said the whole of the extended Potter Family had turned out. But also the Brewers, the Crofts, and last but not least a few of the Fords from Vicksburg had even made the trek here to Benton to see me being confirmed into the Episcopal Church.

“Thank you all.” I said softly.

In the Episcopal Church, Confirmation is supposed to be a sacrament of initiation that strengthens the grace we have received at our Baptism, it is supposed to be a marking of a deepening of one's own personal commitment to a Christian life. In the bourgeoisie South it's seen as kind of a social stepping stone. A young girl's Confirmation is often seen as a foreshadowing to her own Debutant Ball. A girl from a bourgeois family would often be Confirmated at age twelve, and at age sixteen or seventeen she would become a debutante. What is a debutante? A debuntante is an upper-class woman who is making her first appearance in fashionable society. 

And since the Episcopal Church here in the South is always shackled together with the bourgeoisie of southern society the two seem to hand in hand. And since my transition from James Donald Bell to Daisy Isabella Potter, it was only right that following my Confirmation into the Episcopal church I would be feted in my own Debutant Ball.

That was the thought that filled my head as I peered toward the alter. St. Mary's could seat around two hundred people, on your average sunday about half of the church was filled up. One Christmas and Easter the church was filled to the max. And well, much to my own personal satisfaction the church was filled today.

It was proof, proof enough that soon enough I would bust on the scene and take the fashionable society of Benton by storm. After all, I'd been to this year's 'Hostage' at the annual 'Hostage Exchange' between Benton Academy and its hated rival Manchester Academy. I'd saved the cheerleading program by being covered with enough pudding and cream to float a battleship. And despite having been in a few brutal fist fights before coming out the egg, I'd even been appointed 'Head Girl'.

And of course how could I ever forget about my wonderful girlfriend Cerridwen! Cerridwen Circe Whitethorn was a firecracker. But she had been the first person to believe in me, in the three years we've known each other she has been my sister, nurse, and lover.

“Now,” Father's voice brought me out of my daydreaming. “In a few moments we will welcome a very special woman into the family of God.” His voice was steady and his eyes shone with strength.

“Some people in town have in the past been critical of the small, but noticeable transgender population that seem to call this town home. Many of them have found a spiritual home here, within the walls of this church. This church was named after Our Lady. Who is the mother of all Christians.” Father's voice seemed to rise a little as if he wanted to make his point clear.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bonded nor free, there is neither male or female: For yet are all one in Christ Jesus. And if ye be Christ's, then are ye Abraham's seed, and heirs according to the promise.” Father added. He spoke slow and loud and each word seemed to echo in the crowed nave of the church.

“And that is the last I'm going to say on that matter. Now if Miss. Daisy Isabella Potter will please come forth.” He said as he motioned me to come forward. 

I took a deep breath as I made my way down the aisle. All eyes had turned toward me, I took my time, well as much time as I thought I could take, you see, I'd only cracked the egg a year ago and I still struggled with a few things, one of those things I struggled with was walking in heels. And my blonde, bimbo ass wanted to wear three inch heels where everybody around me suggested smaller heel shoes.

And so I struggled down the aisle, feeling my legs shaking like a jar of jelly. But finally I reached the alter and soon I found myself standing before the priest. The priest then went through the liturgy that was found within the Book of Common prayer regarding the rite I was undergoing and I being a cradle Episcoplain read off all the correct answers and before I knew it the priest was placing his hands upon my head.

Now, I believe in the supernatural. I've had more than my fair share with demons, including a memorable encounter with two phantom nurses. One scolded me for being out of bed and the other I'm sure wanted to drag me to Hell. Or the underworld. What I'm getting at, is the moment the priest finished muttering his prayers and the moment he lifted his hands from my head, I felt a sense that I was finally on track.

On track for what? I'm sure wondering, well I just felt my life was on track. I had been confirmed using the name I'd selected myself. I'd chosen the name 'Daisy' to honor my late great-grand mother who had been among the finest women to ever grace the hollow halls of St. Katherine's Episcopal Academy.  According to family lore she had been a woman with a will of iron.  When most leading white families were playing their maids, yardmen, and cooks around ten dollars a week, she was paying them thirty. She taught children both white and black to read and write.  She embodied the ideal 'Southern Belle' and by that I mean she felt one's worth was not by the balance in their check book, or who they had married. Or how many rooms their house had. Or what model car they drove.

Not, she firmly believed that a measure of a person's worth was the strength of their moral character, of how many people they tried to help, of how many people they could try to lift up, of how many people they strove to help to achieve something of a measured amount of success in.She firmly believed in people helping other people. And that if the Lord God had blessed you with a little more than your neighbor that you needed to use that blessing to in turn bless your neighbor.

I'll give you an example, if the balance on your checking account was a little more than your neighbor, you were supposed to use some of your money to help your neighbor. Either by giving to charity or directly giving it to them. If your garden had done well, and your neighbor's garden had not, you were required to share some of your bounty with your neighbor. You get my drift right?

And my middle name of 'Isabella' had been selected to honor my mother. Who had raised me and my sister. True my mother had stood by while my father and uncle had debated my fate, sure she had stood there with her hands in her dress pockets while it was decided that I no longer belonged in Vicksburg, and that I should be  'hidden' away in rural Benton.

Sure she had not been there for me when 'Cracked the Egg' or when I'd nearly been beaten to death, or when I broke my arm, or had she really been there for me for the last four years of my life. But she was still my mother. And she still had given birth to me, so the name remained.

And last but not least the surname of 'Potter' the name of the family that had taken me in without raising an eyebrow. Not only had they taken me in, but they had even started to treat me like a surrogate daughter. Even going as far as to ground me when Jamie and I clashed one morning! To be fair they had grounded Jamie too! 

And now, I was confirmed that name by a holy man, a priest. Like at that moment in some office in Heaven, some poor angel had to open a huge, and I mean huge ledger, look up my old name of 'James Donald Bell' and heaving a sigh he had to dip his quill into an ink well, and then taking the tip of the pen to that name he had to cross it out and then beside it write the name 'Daisy Isabella Potter'. And for good measure his boss had him shred all my old paper work and start anew. And so that is how I 'Officially' became 'Daisy Isabella Potter'.

The End,