Chapter I

      “…You must try to remember that both your father and I love you very much. We were so hoping to be able to send for you this Christmas…”

     “Yeah Right,” I whispered to myself as I carefully folded the letter every bit as lovingly before slipping it back into it's envelope. In my mind's eye, I could imagine ripping it to shreds before taping it back together just so I could stab holes in it with my letter opener. I would like to have burned it too, but then I would not be able to send the whole thing back to my loving mother marked: “No such addressee, 'My beloved Son.'

Postage due.

It was just so like my mother to send a hand written letter just to tell me that I would not be seeing my parents for the third Christmas in a row. Knowing my mother, I was a little surprised she didn't have it engraved on the finest gilded cardstock before sending it to “Her beloved son.”

My dad, who E-mailed me several times a week, was by far the more practical of my parents. He had, of course, already told me that with the way things were going that it did not look too good for them to come home this year, or for me to fly over to them. He'd already told me that several times actually. I think the first time was in June.

I hate it when I cry. I'm sixteen. I swore that I wasn't going to let them get to me ever again. I figured that some kids have families, and that some kids have money. Some kids have both, but there are a lot more that have neither. I supposed that it was better to have one or the other, but at least I wasn't like those kids we'd met, who'd spent their whole lives in foster homes and orphanages. Those poor kids… they had nothing.

That didn't help very much just now. The burning that I felt behind my eyes got even worse, as I felt myself slipping toward self-pity.

My eyes were just a little watery as I looked at my mother's letter where it lay in my lap. Taking it to my desk, I carefully pressed it flat on the blotter. I read the envelope, and said “Humph.” softly, when I realized that the letter had come from Switzerland again. I knew that my dad was in Germany yesterday. Slitting the sides of the envelope, I pressed that flat too, before I clipped them together, so that I could store them both in my letterbox. Somehow, it just seemed important to know where each letter had been written.

I pushed a small gold locket I kept there aside, before slipping the new page into the box, and carefully locked it. I tried to use that as a symbol for the fact that when the whole truth was told, it came down to just this. They had their lives, and I had mine.

I was going to e-mail my mother and father to tell them that I had gotten her letter and that I was old enough to understand how busy they were, but the page on my screen was still a pristine and unsullied white when the clock chimed very softly for six. I walked into my bathroom to wash up for dinner, hoping cool water would help a little.

It was just like my mother to write a letter. When I say that my dad was more practical, I'm not saying that my mother wasn't smart. On the contrary. When it came right down to it, my mom was as sharp as they come. I mean, my dad was no slouch in any group. He ran much of his multinational corporation himself, including most of the day-to-day decisions that really mattered. He's smarter than most, but in a stand up fight, I'd have to bet on my mother. Even my father always said that she helped him more than anyone else did.

You see, not only was my mother smart, her family saw to it that she'd had the finest education available. She spoke about four languages, including French and German like a native.

She'd attended the finest schools, including a year at this finishing school for embarrassingly rich young ladies just outside Paris, which I had to admit was about as good academically as Saint Andrews. Then, because young women of her station were not actually encouraged to work, she'd gone on to attend Oxford for Languages and History, and then Edinburgh, for literature and poetry. Then it was back to Oxford, I think, which was where she met my Dad.

Dad, he had first gotten a scholarship to Princeton. His family was nothing like mom's when it came to money. Oh, they were well enough off, but like I said, nothing like my mother's family. I think they had butlers who had more money than my paternal grandparents did.

Of course I always had everything I'd needed when it came to material things. I'd also gotten a lot of what I'd asked for too, helped probably more by the fact that I'd almost never asked for anything impractical, than by what my parent's could afford. Toys and those kinds of things were just never important to me.

Dad had done a year at Harvard for his MBA after Princeton, and then a year at Oxford as part of some exchange. He had started his own business right out of school, which everyone still said was a mistake… if you can believe that. Everyone told him that he should work for someone else for a while, to learn the ropes and make mistakes, but for him that just seemed like a waste of time. Well it probably would have been. Like many people who really love what they do, he just took off. Now you can find his name in many of the year-end publications in the business genera.

Not that any of that seemed to matter much now.

Looking around as I wiped my hands, I almost started to laugh. I really was proud of both my mother and my father. They really did do a lot for me. Even here at St. Andrews, I had it pretty good. I had a private room, with my own bath, in a school where many people still had to share, no matter how much money their parents had.

Stepping out into the hall, as expected, several of my classmates were already headed toward the dining hall. What was surprising was that one of our teachers, Miss Lynn, was there too.

I guess there has to be a “Miss Lynn” in every boys’ school, if only to remind us why we wanted to grow up in the first place. We had two other female teachers, one of whom was still fairly young in her mid thirties, but neither held a candle to Miss Lynn. She was twenty-six or seven, I think, still young enough to be more like one of us than one of the other teachers. What made it worse was that she had a sense of humor, was smart, and just plain beautiful.

She was a great teacher, holding lectures in just about any science or math. She had this gift of being able to answer any question in a way that anyone could understand. It was said that the only reason they hired her in the first place, was because she took the place of several other teachers, even though she was a pretty young woman, a thing that the most prestigious of boy's schools would avoid like an outbreak of communicative disease. Reservations or not, a teacher who could have been a real scientist, and who could also teach even the most advanced students, even a prestigious school like Saint Andrews could not pass up.

I was the lucky one now, though, because here I was standing face to face with her. It was enough to cheer me up, even after that stupid letter.

“Evening Chris.” She said, as she paused to smile down at me. That was another nice thing about her. Some of our other professors looked on the students as a barely necessary evil for the running of the school. Miss Lynn would often stop for a moment no matter how busy she was, to exchange a word or two, and to make sure everything was going as it should for you. Almost as often, she would share some interesting or helpful bit of information that you just couldn't believe that she had somehow connected to you. That made her even more popular, if that was even possible.

“Ah, Evening, Miss Lynn.” I could feel myself blush slightly.

“On your way to dinner?” She asked pleasantly.

“Yes, Ma'am.” I did not quite stutter, still a little flustered at having come face to face with her so suddenly. “I thought I'd beat the rush.”

This of course made her laugh. She looked down at me and patted my shoulder lightly when she did. Somehow I think that's one of the reasons why she seemed to like me Okay. Most of the other guys in my form were at least as tall as she was, and most of all the rest were a lot taller.

The rush thing was all a joke of course. Friday night was a fine night for dinners, as the evening chef usually put on a good meal for the kids staying in the school for the weekend. It was a little consolation for the kids who could not leave to be with their families most weekends. This time of year it was even more so. I was sure that no more than a third of the kids would be left by the time I was finishing up my meal.

We reached the steps, which quickly confirmed the estimate. There was a line of cars, a complete collection of the latest model Volvo's and Mercedes, with a few limousines thrown in as well. Most of the kids were being picked up by a parent, but a lot of them were picked up by drivers or cabs or other hired folk.

I stopped for a moment as I watched one of the lucky ones. It was Doug, I could see, and he was greeted by both his mother and father, and his big sister who all hugged him, before they got into the car.

Doug looked embarrassed and seemed to try and hurry everyone into the car. I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. I only knew that if I had a family like that, I wouldn't care who was watching”

“Is everything all right, Chris?” Miss Lynn asked me softly. I had not even realized that I had stopped at the top of the stairs to watch Doug and his family. I certainly hadn't realized that Miss Lynn had stopped to watch me too.

“Yeah!” I said with all the enthusiasm that I could muster, but I'm sure I must have sounded completely terminal.

We both started to walk toward the dining hall again. Autumn evenings in New England can be very cool, and the even though it was not cold enough to need more than a good sweater, it still made my eyes sting. I was trying to find a way to tell her that everything was just fine, but somehow I just could not find the words in time to head off the inevitable big-sisterish, or best friend's mother like inquisition.

“So tell me, what are your plans for the holiday?” She asked brightly, as she stabbed straight at my vitals with an unwavering aim. “Are you going over to Europe to spend it with your family, or are they coming here?”

If it were not for the eye thing that I was trying to deal with, and the invisible evil dwarf that had just punched me in my stomach, I might even have been able to come up with a lie. “Neither, really.” I heard myself say. I could not help but glance at her just in time to see her eyebrows draw a little closer together. She was way too smart.

The corners of her mouth turned down a little too, even before I could look away, which once more had me looking at the shrinking rows of cars in the driveway. One of the guys was walking toward a limo with a swarthy man who was obviously the driver. They were playfully shoving each other as they went…

Freaking great…

“Chris?” Miss Lynn asked softly, putting her hand on my shoulder to stop me from bolting toward the door of the dining hall. “Not again?”

This was Miss Lynn's first year here at St. Andrew's School for Boys, but I suppose that there really weren't very many who didn't know about the kid who's own family wouldn't even bother to come and get him at Christmas. I mean that happened to kids every year. It always did at a place like this, but I already had the school record for having been passed over on my first two years. This time, it was bound to be the talk of the school.

She said in a low voice, “Come with me," as I felt her steer me toward the administration wing. I was sure a few of the remaining kids must have given us a curious glance or two, but I did not really care. Before I knew it, we were in her office, and she was handing me a cool cloth to wipe my face.

“I'm sorry…” I tried to explain, but looking at her face I just could not do it. What could I possibly say?

How could I explain any of this away, making her understand, when I could not even explain it to myself. Finally, all I could manage was: “I'm sorry, Miss Lynn. I didn't mean to act like a baby. It's only that I just got the letter when I got back to my room. I kind of figured that it was coming. At least I'll be able to volunteer to help hand out presents at the orphanage again this year.” I tried to smile sarcastically, but I couldn't even manage that.

I really hadn't thought before I'd said it. Her face, was far from being placated. In fact, while I watched her it had grown red with anger.

“Really, it doesn't matter. I just don't want the other guys to know, and I don't want us to miss dinner. I look forward to Friday nights with Chef.”

The joke was about as funny as gangrene on your Thanksgiving turkey.

She just looked at me for a long time before she spoke at all. It was obvious that she was trying to manage her own anger. “Chris, I've heard a rumor around…,” she began to ask finally in a soft voice, “Is it true that you were here the last two years too?”

No point in doing anything but nodding my head, and using the cloth quickly to wipe my face, being as cool as I could manage. “Thank you for this, Ma'am. I think my hay fever must be acting up or something. Pollen.” I shrugged helplessly. “Come on, Ma'am. You can go get your dinner. I'll just head back to my room and wash my face, and I'll see you there.”

I looked hopefully at her, but it was no use, because her expression only grew darker. “Besides,” I finished “I usually go to the library on Friday nights, and you can't check out books after eight thirty. I like to get a couple for the weekend.”

The darkening of her features continued. There's a lot to be said for keeping your mouth shut. I'm a walking poster child.

“You can wash up here, Chris.” She said calmly, “and we have plenty of time to get to dinner.”

She just continued to wait for me to talk, but it soon became obvious to her that there was no way that I was going to say anything else. The last two minutes of verbal incontinence would take at least a week to explain away. It would probably be up to a month before I'd even try.

“When did you find out?” She asked me to clarify in a voice that was much softer than her facial expression.

“I just got the letter this afternoon, when I went back to my room” I told her.

“I'm so sorry, Chris.” she said sympathetically at first, and then she lost it “What the hell is wrong with those people. You are a great kid. Why don't they take you over there with them, if they can't come here? I mean it's not like they can't afford to fly you over.”

“It's not like that, Miss Lynn.” I guess I'm just stupid, because I began to talk awfully fast. Again. “You don't understand. My dad just opened up a big new line, and he's been in a different country every night. I'd only be in the way there, and I'm sure that they'll make it up to me. I'll be seeing my dad at Easter anyway. He flies over to see me at least once a quarter, and by then everything should be Okay.”

Even I could hear the pathetic sound of the echoes in the silence that followed.

Calming a little, but not because of my excuses, she asked what I had not thought of as the most obvious question. “What about your mother? Can't she have visitors?”

“Well yeah, I guess, but you see she's the one who helps dad out. She's the one who speaks several languages, and her family has the connections in northern Europe. She's helping dad out most of the time.” I finally ground down to a stop, realizing how childish and unsatisfying it all sounded.

Miss Lynn did not answer immediately. She just looked at me, her mouth moving slowly up and down for a few moments before she finally said, “… She's helping him?” The only good thing was that she didn't really look as angry anymore. She looked more shocked and confused.

For the longest time she just stood there, and looked at me. Glancing at the clock, I could see that we'd been in her office for just less than ten minutes which shocked me, because it seemed like so much more. That was about the longest ten minutes of my life, if you didn't consider when I was being born.

She was still just looking at me and thinking, which made me feel very low, because I had no idea what she was thinking, and anything that I might have guessed was certain to be a subject that I did not feel up to dealing with. I tried to put an end to her scrutiny in the only way that I could. I got up, and walked past her desk into her private bathroom, and quickly washed my face before I stood for a minute pressing a towel to my eyes.

When I walked back into the office, she was waiting by the door. “Come on.” She said in a voice that was at least no longer angry, and clearly ready to make sure that I couldn't skip dinner to go back to my room. “Let's go try and beat the rush.” Her smile was… well almost a smile.

I heard myself sigh in relief as we stepped out, at which she smiled for real.

She truly did have a wonderful smile. It would be awfully hard for a person to feel bad when she did that. I mean she knew I liked her. Every boy in the school did. She must have known. It was probably why she smiled so much, because of all the agreeable if unavoidable pain it caused everyone.

“Sit and have dinner with me, Chris.” She was smiling even more now. “I'd like you to tell me about your Mom and dad.”

Just when I thought I had a chance. It was like seeing that the last ten feet of rollercoaster track were missing.

Neither of our meals was more than half-eaten where they lay on the table in front of us. Even though there were far fewer students in the dining room now, there were fewer still who wanted to be seated near us. The other boys seemed to understand that it was better to give a wide berth to an instructor and student who were obviously deep in conversation. Of course, they all kept one eye on Miss Lynn at all times anyway, so it was hardly lonely.

“You know, Chris, some women just find it very hard to be warm to…” she let the thought lie there on its own.

“No, Ma'am. It's not like that at all.” I tried to make her understand. “My mother was always very nice to me. She was never standoffish.” I felt a powerful need to make her understand that my parents were not monsters.

“She used to play with me all the time, and we'd go places almost every week.” I looked back at her earnestly, but she seemed completely unconvinced.

“And what about your father, Chris? Was he always like this?” She asked, not so much accusatory, as really trying to understand.

“Well he's always worked and traveled a lot, but when he was home, he always spent his time with mom and me. I get E-mails from him every few days, and several times a year he flies home to be with me for long weekends and things.” It really sounded worse than it was. I knew how much my parents loved me. Miss Lynn did not.

“I promise I won't take this any further, unless of course you ask me to, but I have to ask just this once.” She took a little breath, and then asked, “Do either your Mother or Father ever hit you?”

I was scared. This whole thing was turning from a bad dream into a nightmare. I could have said never and made it stick, but somehow I knew she'd know. She seemed to know everything else.

“Miss Lynn.” I started. “My parents don't abuse me. Know what this looks like, but I can honestly say that they only ever hit me when I was too small to reason with. They never hurt me. I can only remember one time that my mother ever hit me at all, and I think that was a mistake, because she
fell apart when she did it, and apologized over and over.”

Miss Lynn, reached over and put her hand on my arm, and told me in a low voice “I promise, this is just between you and me. I'm not going to do anything that will cause you any problems with your parents. Okay?”

I nodded my head.

“Tell me about the time your mother hit you.”

“Well there isn't much to tell. It was only a few years ago. We were all playing in the pool. Dad had jumped in, and my mother was trying to keep a ball away from him. I jumped on her back, and I grabbed her shoulders trying to help her keep the ball away from my father - and she just freaked. She screamed, and started swinging. I don't know what happened.”

Miss Lynn's eyes looked pained actually, so I paused for moment, only to have her give a funny little nod before she said “Go on.”

“Well that's about it really. Dad took her upstairs, and a couple of hours later, she came down still upset, and apologized. She said that I had startled her. That's all. That November I came here, and I've really only seen her a few times since, and…” I didn't know what else to say.

“I see.” She said.

She obviously didn't know what else to say either, because she changed the subject. “So, do you go to the library every Friday…”

Right after dinner, I went to the library and picked up a collection of really old Sci-fi stories, a book of poetry I wanted for class, and a book on Victorian woman's fashions. It looked like a typical weekend for me…

     “Settle down, Gentlemen.” Doctor Pope, our headmaster, called out with exaggerated patience.

Most of the kids knew just what he meant when he called us 'Gentlemen'. Don't get me wrong, he was a real nice guy, one-on-one, but he'd been dealing with the raving hoard for a long while I guess, and it showed.

“Take your seats, so we can get started.” The poor man droned.

An unannounced assembly was something that piqued everyone's interest. Perhaps they found a body in a locker, or worse, porn or drug paraphernalia. At Saint Andrews, a sudden death was explainable you see. Everything else was an honor violation.

“OK, Gentlemen,” Doctor Pope finally began with the matter at hand. “I don't want to keep you any longer than is necessary.” He paused for just a moment to make sure he had our attention as he scan the crowd. “Now, we have some news, and brevity being the most urgent requirement I will now hand this little meeting over to Mrs. Pierce. Mrs. Pierce?”

Mrs. Pierce stood up and just stared at him. She smiled, but she made no move toward the microphone.

Doctor Pope, finally smiled back at her in a concession we could all see, and stepped back to the microphone.

“Very well. I tried. Those few of you who watch Television…” he had to pause for laughter, during which time he smiled back, “know that there has been a vast increase in programming dedicated to formal dance. Well, Mrs. Pierce and I are happy to report, that she is just back from a meeting, and that our Board of Governors, who have taken note of this change, and have seen fit to direct that I take steps to ensure that all of you have some familiarity with these increasingly popular forms.”

There were enough groans and moans to make the place seem remarkably like a whale-watch excursion boat full of land lubbers caught unexpectedly in rough seas.

“Now as you all know, my own dancing career was second only to my tenure as an educator,” he cleared his throat meaningfully, “but I have felt it only prudent that I should subvert my own desires to the more rounded capabilities of my most able assistant headmistress and school administrator, and I am quite pleased to inform you all I have already done so with the utmost dispatch…, I mean confidence.”

He looked back at Mrs. Pierce, again.

Moving to the podium, while shaking her head at Dr. Pope, Mrs. Price looked like she always did - calm and confident. As the school administrator, she was the one who took care of the actual running of the school. As usual, she looked very nice and professional, even though she was at least twenty years older than Miss Lynn was. Miss Laurie, the office manager, was there on stage as well, which was quite odd to say the least.

“Good morning boys. I'm glad that the Headmaster was kind enough to allow us to interrupt your schedule today for this brief assembly, because time is very short. We have all graciously been given almost three weeks to accomplish a task that would usually take months, which is why we've called you together to hear this very good news.”

She smiled at everyone brightly. She was older, but no one would have said she was anything but a pretty woman. She always called us boys, when it was good news. From anyone else it would not have been tolerated, but from Mrs. Pierce, it was motherly. All the guys liked her. We liked most of our teachers really. It was hard not to; they were the very best at what they did.

“As many of you no doubt know, for many years Saint Andrews had a tradition of holding a winter dance. Usually around Christmas, the dance was a formal affair where Saint Andrew's and our sister school, Saint Mary's, students would all attend. For most of its history, the schools alternated the location of the dance, one year being held here in the Crystal Hall, and the next being hosted at Saint Mary's, and so forth.”

Mrs. Pierce walked to the front of the small stage to smile more directly down at all of us. “Well, I just got notice, the chancellors have agreed to reinstitute that tradition starting this year.”

She paused, of course, to allow the student body to groan as one.

Laughing, she said. “Now. I assure you that I understand your angst at the thought of entertaining such dangerous, mysterious, and exquisitely frightening creatures as the ladies of Saint Mary's!” She was actually laughing right at us. “I truly do understand. However, as dangerous as they may or may not be, the governors and your faculty believe that we should make some attempt to teach you young gentlemen some of the social skills you will need as you move onto what I am sure will be very successful lives.”

The groans were polite, and not intended as a demonstration, but they were just less audible than fingernails on a chalkboard.

Laughing again, “I can assure you that it is much worse than you know. I was invited up to Saint Mary's this morning to help answer questions as my counterpart informed the girls of the upcoming event. I was completely struck first of all by how lovely those ladies were, and by how happy and excited they were at the prospect of having you gentlemen escort them to a ball.”

Two kids actually began to panic. A brown paper bag saved the lucky one from hyperventilation, while the other poor blighter had to make due with a sharp elbow to his midriff. Both methods were mostly effective. Mostly.

“Now I want to assure you that in all the years that this event was held, the students of Saint Andrews never let the reputation of our school down. What I mean to say is, that our students have behaved as gentlemen. Oh, and just to be sure you fully understand, behaving like a gentlemen does not include hiding in bathrooms, or under tables. Nor does it suggest standing on the sidelines like a bunch of stuffed exhibits at the Natural Geek Museum.”

She paused to look us over for a few moments, making actual eye contact with the least lucky amongst us.

“What it did, and does entail, is the requirement that each and every one of you young gentlemen escort at least one young lady to the dance floor.” She paused for several moments before speaking just slightly louder to be sure she was heard over the sobbing. “Thereby, showing the young lady thus chosen that you not only can dance with her, but also make polite and interesting conversation when pressed to it. Now the initial plan was to draw lots and pair every student, but I have argued that this is not the middle ages. I will however, act with a clear conscience and unwavering resolve in this regard if it proves necessary.”

She took another minute to single out a few more marked souls, before she stepped back to the lectern and changed from her official persona into her motherly one. That of course, marked our deaths with the finality of freshly carved tombstones, or an even fresher bill for digging the hole. You could argue all you may like with her, or your biological mother for that matter, but that was only to make you feel like you'd at least tried.

“I also want you all, my fine young gentlemen, to remember two things. courtesies and manners, as onerous as they may seem right now, serve to make the people you will meet throughout your life comfortable with you. It's a comfort to everyone when they know 'The Rules', which of course, includes all of you. The day will come when you will be glad to have learned what we are trying to teach you today. I guarantee.”

When she laughed this time, it had to be at the look of utter disbelief on our faces.

“The second of the things that I want you to remember, and the one that may even be the most important, is that the young ladies that I met today are all very excited to meet you. It would be the most wasteful shame if through your lack of attention or preparation any of you were to spoil it for them. Not only would that break their hearts needlessly, but it would prevent you from taking the opportunity to get to know them, which you yourselves will surely want to do very soon.”

She looked at us for just a few minutes more, watching our faces sober. It was true. Boys who've been locked up long enough, will risk life, and limb to meet the fairest members of the fairer sex - especially those around their own age. They'd try almost as hard as they'd try to avoid a formal.

Mrs. Pierce just nodded to herself after a moment more of scanning our faces.

“Therefore,” She continued, “beginning today, we will be holding dance lessons twice a week, for two hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There will be an additional practice session on Friday evenings, for those who feel they would like to attend, and Miss Lynn, Miss Laurie, and I will be happy to instruct you.”

I'm sure I heard a pin fall off a table somewhere at the back of the stage.

“Are there any questions?”

The joker stood up, and placed the backs of his hands on his hips.

“Mrs. Pierce, Three weeks is simply not enough time to design and sew a proper gown. Do the Governors understand that their lack of reasonable notice will force some of us to have to buy,” he gulped with an extraordinary flair, “…off the rack?”

Christ.

“Don't worry, Mr. Martin. We are here to help you, of course. If you'd like, I can check in my closet to see if I can lend you something suitable. Now if anyone else has a worthwhile question?”

Christ on a snowboard in July!

     Needless to say, nothing much happened for the rest of that day that did not involve some bitching or scheming of the upcoming dance in one form or another. Perhaps the only thing that had any kind of permanence was the slow resolution of the students into three distinct groups. The first were comprised of those who might actually have met a girl before, and were looking forward to the evening in question. The second group, the one which held a reasonable majority, was comprised of those who were sure that the plans would clearly result in some notably lamentable end to us, but who were willing at least to try and see the thing through. The third group had opted on escape: Tunnels, two man wooden gliders, and all manner of rare contagious diseases were discussed. The various materials were already being collected, and stockpiled into hidden stashes all over campus.

“Chris?”

Her voice startled me, not because it wasn't instantly recognizable, but rather because it was. I turned to face Miss Lynn.

“Yes, Ma'am, Miss Lynn?” I said, somehow avoiding the less dignifying amount of stammering, and 'Hums” and 'Ah's' that usually preceded any sentence I spoke to Miss Lynn.

She smiled again. “Don't look so guilty, Chris. Whatever you've been up to, we haven't been able to discover… yet.” Her smile was as warm as sunshine. “I just wanted to know how you are doing.”

“I'm fine, Miss Lynn. Thank you for asking.” I said, both grateful for her concern and attention, and reluctant to dredge up my problems, or even be a student with 'problems' to her.

“Did you get the chance to talk with your mother or father?” She asked, surprising me more than a little.

The suspicions began to coalesce in my mind. “I did. My father called me on Saturday evening, and we had a long talk.”

She nodded her head, confirming as much as possible, that she was involved somehow.

She continued, “Are you feeling at least a little better?” She asked, taking a moment only, to put her hand on my shoulder, and steer me down the hall beside her, so that we could talk.

“Yes, Ma'am.” I said, not able to keep from feeling grateful at her concern. “In fact, my father told me that he had been trying to plan a couple of days right at Christmas, so he could fly over and see me, but he had not wanted to say anything before now for fear that he might not be able to make it.”

“I see.” She nodded again, which still seemed to me like she had taken the position of an arbitrator between my parents and me. “Did he know how likely that was?”

“Not really,” I told her honestly, “but, knowing my dad, I'm sure he'll really try.” I knew that he would, and I guess she believed me.

She then asked “And what of your Mother. Can't she come too?”

I frowned, I'm sure. That had been as sad for me as my thinking they could not come at all. “No.” I said, simply.

“Why not Chris? Is she not well enough to make the trip?” She clinched it.

“No, Ma'am” I stopped and turned to look at her, causing her to stop too.

It took me a couple of seconds to phrase the question. “What did you say to them?”

Thank God she smiled again, which told me that everything was indeed Okay. “I simply told your father that although…” She stopped, seemingly searching for words, which was something she never had to do. “I am sure that he is needed where he is, he also has a great kid over here, the other third of his family, who needs him just as much as…,” She made a barely discernable pause, “he is needed there.” She finished, turning away down the hall once more I heard “A great kid” again, very softly, as if she had said it to herself.

Even though I'd gone past the stairs to my room, I continued to follow her as she'd indicated. I realized that she was glancing at me, waiting to see how I'd taken the news.

“Thank you, Miss Lynn.” I said, looking at her in a way that caused several of the other boys to look at me openly. “Thank you, very much.”

She smiled again, and patted my shoulder, “You are very welcome, Chris. It was my pleasure to do it" She looked down at the hall floor for several moments, but her smile never really faded as we walked. “Well, I have to get back, we have our first dance lesson tonight, and I need to get some stuff done before then. Your class assignment to name one thing.” I could not resist an evil snort, because like most of the kids, I had little sympathy for the need to keep up our normal huge workload, when we had been suddenly overburdened by the need for dance. Even though I was in the group that was scared and kind of liking the idea.

She laughed at me, before she said quickly “Please try to remember that both dancing and Chemistry will help you to build character.” She continued to grin.

“Gee, thanks.” I said, somehow achieving that precise level of scorn and distain required to relieve the statement of any real thanks, while only just avoiding offence.

Still laughing, “No, seriously, it's an important assignment. You'll see that in about a week, but I also wanted to ask you something. You seem to like science fiction a lot.”

I was a little shocked, since I'd never discussed this with her. Another one of those little tidbits she always seemed to know.

Taking my momentary silence as a confirmation, she continued. “I just wanted to tell you that I'm a huge fan as well. Judging by the books you've checked out, I have about two or three dozen that you should really love. When I go to my storage unit this week I'll bring some of them back, and as long as you have the time, I'll leave them in my office for you. Given how many books you check out on the weekends, you'll probably have no trouble reading them all. You read very fast.” She finished succinctly.

“You know what I've been checking out?” I asked, surprised that I'd never thought of that before.

“Of course.” She looked at me again. “Any one of your teachers can look at the books that you check out. I hope you don't mind, I wasn't trying to pry. In fact, it's the first time that I've ever done that to anyone.”

I was a little surprised, but then I was a little worried also. I'd long known that going to the Library on Fridays was what gave me the chance to look up things that some of my classmates would find strange. Others would think of it as a shark does an open vein in a warm southern ocean.

We had stopped, and she was looking at me again. “In fact, Chris, I also noticed that you seem to have other interests as well. Fashion and Style information also seem to be high on your reading list.” She finished the real intent of her comments with an admirable aplomb.

“Miss Lynn, I…,” Oh darn. I swallowed hard.

She was looking at me really carefully now.

“Look Chris, you wouldn't be the first boy in a school like this to try and sneak the sacred copy of 'Cosmo' out of the library; but, you seem to be searching for much more than that. Based on your loans, you seem to have quite an interest in all kinds of female fashions. I wanted to tell you that that's okay too. Many of the biggest designers of women's clothing are men, and I know you have a lot of artistic talent as well as every other kind. I can draw adequately, but real artistic talent has always been a mystery to me, and I only admire you all the more for it. I just wanted to let you know that you can talk to me about that as well, if you like.”

She just watched me.

“I…,” Oh, Our blessed savior on roller-skates... “Thank you, Miss Lynn.”

She nodded, and then added very quickly. “In my office, I also have a bunch of magazines that I've saved over the years. They are in the bookcase cabinet, under my reading books in my office. If you like you may use any of those that interest you, but I wanted to warn you, I don't want them circulated around the school…” She didn't need to add anything more.

Forget talking. What would I have said anyway.

This time, her smile held mostly compassion for the guilty unfortunate. “Well, I have to get going, too. Take care of yourself, Chris. Remember, that you can talk to me any time you want. It doesn't need to be about anything as important as being abandoned on the steps of Saint Andrew's orphanage every twenty-fifth of December!” She giggled a little. “I like talking to you. Okay?”

I just nodded, and she was gone. I was completely grateful for making it back to my room without seeing anyone. When I looked in the mirror, my face was still quite the lovely shade of puce.

     The first dance class went by much as expected. Everyone stood around with nothing much to do, while some of us with names in the low end of the alphabet did little other than talk, or read. I got to dance with Mrs. Pierce, lucky me, and was soon pronounced “a good dancer,' which of course earned me the red badge of target, according to my classmates’ time honored codes. That was also why I got to read most of the time there.

Thus it was, when Thursday's lesson came around, and we were all hurried into our places, and addressed.

“Settle down, Boys. We need to straighten some things out tonight, so please, everyone, take a seat…”

We did, if not quietly or quickly, at least it was with most of us using the prescribed part of our anatomy.

Mrs. Pierce continued. “Thank you. Now, as most of you no doubt realize, the first session did not go very well. I have to say, that I was not surprised at that, but I was surprised at how little most of you know about dancing.” How odd that people who have no interest in goat herding will become immediately offended by doubts as to their innate talents therein.

“It has become obvious that we need to work a little harder than we anticipated, and in much smaller groups. Therefore, from now on, the Tuesday session will be held on Mondays, and will be the same two hours. On Tuesdays from now on, we will all be together for one hour, at which times we will demonstrate various principles of etiquette and forms of dance.

The remaining three days of the week, we will break you up into nine groups. Each day, with a specific teacher.” Groans began to interrupt.

“Gentlemen! We have very little time, please listen.” There was instant quiet at the serious tone. “I did not mean that any of you would have to go more than one additional day. In fact, you will be assigned only one day in which to practice. I'm afraid that will be all that time allows, which is unfortunate, because many of you will need to practice more in order to be comfortable when the day of the dance arrives.”

She looked at all of us, not because we made a sound, but because we did not. After the actual dance lesson, the threat of the dance was like a bucket of iced-water in the veins leading directly to our hearts. Worse, we could see she was obviously cataloguing us in her mind still.

“To continue, as I've said we will have very little time, even if your female instructors work with a group every day. Therefore, I've asked Coach Madison to help us out, which he has agreed to do, but only for several specific days he is available. Most of you may be surprised to know, that your track and field coach took quite a lot of dance classes in his day, so I urge you to take full advantage of what he knows.”

Mrs. Pierce stared down the group, as if we really needed it. We were too cowed to make any perverse comments about the Coach's dancing skills. Besides we were too afraid he'd make us curry the hair on his back or something, or even worse, tell the head coach. He'd been a chicken colonel in the marines.

“Now, unfortunately, it has also become too obviously clear, that even with the changes I've indicated, that there is no way that just the three of us will be able to serve as partners for all of you…”

My eardrums popped from the combined inhalation, and holding of every student's breath.

“Yes, that's right. Several of you will have to assist us. I realize this is going to cause those students chosen for this task some grief, but let me warn everyone, quite clearly; the students thus chosen are going to be helping you not to make ass…, Err, I mean spectacles of yourselves. All of you had better treat them accordingly. I will be obligated to deal with the matter quite severely, by virtue of the fact that the boys chosen will have no choice. God help the first student who tries to make an ass of himself in advance of the appropriate time.”

One legged Jesus, on a snowboard, behind a jet ski.

Suddenly, Mrs. Pierce started to laugh at us again, and after our initial reaction of jumping to flee, everyone else did also, even though it was pure nerves. At that point, one of the crazier guys in the back made a show of 'volunteering' to be one of the 'female' assistants to the special assistants to The Administrator, de facto factotum to the office of the chance-kill-ors , who were trying to keep us from making asses of ourselves - on our own..

“Sit down. I appreciate your valorous contribution, but we need to pick people who can actually dance…”

That did it. Everyone was laughing now.

“Seriously, Gentlemen, many of you have also played the female rolls in our quarterly plays, so we will pick the students accordingly. It would not seem fair to ask for volunteers, as this would only serve to obscure their fellow student's estimation or appreciation of their talents and versatility. In any event, we have already chosen the students we intend to ask.”

Someone from the back. “Do you mean you are looking for gay students, Ma'am, because…”

Mrs. Pierce didn't even look, instead holding up her palm in his general direction to shut him up. “Mr. Jeremy, the singular aim of this meeting is to assure that those of us standing before you, namely the female complement to whom this task has fallen, will still be able to stand when this is all over. If any of you have any other agenda, I suggest you reschedule it until you can make an appointment with me to establish an extracurricular organization open to all students with similar interests. Provided of course that club can satisfy the guidelines set fourth in your honor code. I clearly said we will pick the students.”

“Oh Shit.” I heard someone say, exactly mirroring the words going through my mind at that very moment.

“That's right Mr. Thomas. You are with me.” Mrs. Pierce said flatly.

“Permission to be excused to the restroom, Ma'am?”

“Sit down.” She said as her eyes began to scan the group for the other two condemned. “Chris Morgan, Miss Lynn has picked you as her surrogate, and…, Ah yes Willis, you will work with Miss Laurie…”

I didn't hear much after that. Blood rushing in ears can do that I'm told, but I did perk up just enough to see Miss Lynn smiling at me. I could have sworn that there was something there, other than a good-natured smile of thanks and commiseration. A faintly sympathetic look from the lioness, just before she slaughters you. I felt that fainting would not be a very effective way of avoiding derision of my more feminine talents, or I'd have done it right then.

Narcolepsy, though? Several of the boys had talked about…

“Now before we get back to work, we'll have to go over the groupings we've come up with.” She handed a stack of papers to the boy closest to her, and continued. “I'm going to say this just once more. Misters Thomas, Morgan, and Willis were chosen not only for their superior abilities to woo almost any young women with their fine dancing talents…,” She paused to let that sink in, “they were also chosen because their academic standing allowed them to be freely chosen without any fear of compromising their more scholarly pursuits. You should all remember that, along with the fact that I will personally disembowel anyone giving them grief!”

“Oh, Shit!” I heard again softly, and looked back to identify Willis. Looking back at me, he quietly tossed a book he had with him over his shoulder, and said very clearly and directly to me: “Mummy!”

     Apart from a little minor teasing, and two proposals of marriage, and four requests for dates, (only one of which was serious!), I heard very little more till the next day, when Miss Lynn called me over to her desk at the end of Chemistry lecture.

“Good luck, Ginger.” One of the guys whispered in my ear, but took the sting out of it with a commiserating and encouraging pat on the shoulders as he passed me on the way back to his own desk.

Miss Lynn was smiling again. “I'm sorry, Chris. I'm really not picking on you now. Mrs. Pierce picked the three of you with the Headmaster, before I could even suggest you. You really were one of the best dancers, you poor thing.”

She smiled at my face some more. “I wanted to tell you that if you really feel uncomfortable with any of this, I've insisted that you will be allowed to back out. Contrary to what Mrs. Pierce said, even she can't force you boys to do this. Like the female parts in our theatrical productions, it's voluntary.”

Her smile was clearly pained, pleading with me not to quit on her. 'Oh shit', seemed to be echoing from the very stones of the venerable edifice around us. The Chemistry lab had long ago been moved back into the older and less inflammable Stone building - for some reason.

“You know I can't turn you down, after what you did for me.” I said, taking that first of many slow steps up the gallows stairs. “I'll help you, Miss Lynn.” Step.

She hugged me quickly at that, right in front of the class, and chuckled. It would certainly have made it worth all of the pain to come, had I lived to see it.

“Chris, you don't owe me anything. You are under no obligation to do this, but if you still will, I have to say I'll be eternally grateful. I had to soak my feet for two hours Tuesday night, and my legs still hurt.” She smiled, but also took a step back to look at me. “If you are sure, I can sure use the help.”

Resigned, with a finality that I'd just realized that I had not feared enough until now, I asked her. “What do I have to do?” Step, step, hop.

Grinning, she laid it all out. “It's simple Chris. Mrs. Pierce or I will show you the dances you need to learn, and after we demonstrate them to the group, you will serve mostly as a dance partner for the boys that need less help. It'll be a lot of work, I can tell you, and I'm so sorry for your toes ahead of time, but it will help them a lot. If…”

I finished when she paused. “If they can dance with me in front of everyone, then dancing with a real girl should be a cinch.”

She smiled all the time, but she nodded to show I'd figured it out. “I need you to meet with me this evening in the theater, that's where you and I will be holding our sessions. The others will be in the gym, or the dining room. I have a late class, and don't have time to move tables and chairs and such, so we lucked out.”

She paused before asking one last time. “Are you sure?” She bent her head slightly looking at me as if she were looking at me through a large pair of bushy eyebrows, which she did not of course have.

“I'm sunk…” I valiantly made a show of bravery for her. “I'm sorry, Ma'am. I meant to say I'm sure.”

The bell sounded.

She laughed, as she put her arm around my shoulders, and dragged me toward the door. “Okay, then, Chris. Meet me in the auditorium at about five this afternoon, and we'll set up. Okay?”

I nodded as we reached the door, and she sent me on my way with a commiserating laugh for my hang dog expression.

     Everything went well. I was taking Latin that afternoon, so most of the folks in that class had precious little time to worry about anything else, by virtue of the fact that professor Tam could be counted on to call on everyone in the class at least once during every session. I did get called 'Ginger' again by one boy, but that bought him a several of the guys saying, 'Aaw, leave her alone…”

Ginger is a popular name, it seems, but most if the guys seemed good about it. The few guys who were on the cruel side, tired of giving us grief. I suppose that in a school where they put on two to three plays a year with boys playing female leads, it's just not that much of a novelty really.

As I walked out of my last class, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Hi, Willis. What's up?” I said when I looked back to discover my fellow sufferer, who when I looked at him again, seemed more than a little worried.

“Umm. Can I talk to you a minute?” He asked me barely above a whisper, making it clear that he wanted to talk in private. One kid said something like “Look man, real life lesbians…”, which we all laughed at, but the guy standing closest to him just grinned and waived before headed the other way saying, “For crying out loud guys leave them alone to their 'girl-talk.”

When they were out of earshot, I stopped to talk to him. “What is it, Willis? You look like you need a drink, man. You need to calm down.” I was trying to cheer him up, but he only nodded without answering.

Only when the other guys made it around the corner did he begin talking in earnest. “Have you spoken with Miss Lynn yet?” I nodded my head, encouraging him to continue. “I just talked to Miss Laurie. She told me that Miss Lynn had insisted that we could back out if we really wanted to.”

Poor Willie, he looked like a drowning man, who just stumbled upon a rubber raft with a hole in it. I just nodded again to confirm that what he'd been told was true.

“Well?” he gasped. “Did you tell her No? I've got to tell Miss Laurie later this evening if I'll do it or not.”

I took a deep breath, because somehow, I knew that this would get around the school as sure as midterms and sunrise. “I'm sorry, Willie. Miss Lynn did ask me, and I told her I'd do it. No reason why you should have to go through with it though. It doesn't matter what I've said. You can back out if they say you can.” I tried to encourage him as best I could, but Willie just stared at me.

When Willie finally spoke, it was with feeling. “But why, Man? You had an out! Why would you tell them you would?” He looked at me still more, as if he could read his answer in my face. “I mean, I understand a little. If I had Miss Lynn, I'd sure as heck rather tough it out with her, but still…” He just shook his head, knowing it would be unnecessary to finish the thought..

I put my hand on his shoulder this time, and told him. “Willy man, I'm not kidding. If you want to back out, then just do it. Don't worry. You don't have to explain it to me or to anyone. Just quit, and let them find someone else.”

Willis turned away, but still told me “That's not it at all man. If you guys do it, and I'm the only one to back out, then I look like the biggest pussy on the planet for a perfectly legitimate duck and cover.”

I could see the way his shoulders slumped as he walked away, and I felt really bad for him, but he was right. We were dead the moment Mrs. Pierce pronounced our names on her little death warrant. Damn her googley eyes. Even if we did back out, we were going to get razzed for that too. I'm sure that her plan was to make sure that we helped the guys out, and make them grateful, but it had been a low sort of trick to fry us in public like that.

Turning away toward my room, I felt that I should say something to Miss Lynn at least. Not that it could do us any good, but still, it had been a shitty thing to do. I could only hope that Freddie Thomas was dealing with it a little better than Willy was. Knowing that Willy was right, though, had given me a new sense of calm. I couldn't get out of this even if I'd wanted to. I could make sure that everyone knew that I had only stuck in there because I was afraid to look like a coward, and because of Miss Lynn, of course. I'd have to do that tactfully, because I'd never want anything to get back to her to make her think that I didn't really like her, but I supposed that when the rest of them figured that out I'd be ok.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

 
Chapter II

     The door to the auditorium made a soft thud behind me as I walked down the aisle between the seats. I was struck by the dustiness of the place. It was strange, but somehow, the theater always smelled like an old dusty warehouse, except for those few days that we actually put on a performance. At those times, it smelled fresh and well aired. It was really kind of odd… Perhaps you just didn't notice it so much with all the people there.

“There you are. Right on time.” Miss Lynn said from somewhere around the stage.

A little current ran through my middle, because until she spoke, I'd though I'd been alone. Looking up, I quickly found her, gesturing me to come through the gap in the curtains at the right of the stage where she disappeared again.

Behind the curtain, to the right of the stage, was a area set out of sight of the audience, and behind that a large communal dressing room. Toward the back were some makeup tables. Around two sides of that room were closets and three deep racks of costumes, mostly covered by white sheets. Along the back wall were a small bathroom, and three other smaller private dressing rooms. Miss, Lynn was standing at the costume racks, going through a rack of what looked like long dresses.

She said without looking back, “I wanted to thank you again for doing this for me.” “I must have soaked my feet three times the first night we had to do this.”

She had turned around, holding up what looked like a green velvet ball gown as she inspected it carefully. “This should do nicely…” She smiled as if she'd found something she had been looking for, for a much longer time. “I also wanted to thank you for coming so early. I thought it might be a good idea if we could set up the place for the lesson, and then take a few moments where you and I could warm up together.” Her eyes were now on me, which of late, made me feel like she could tell what I had in my pockets or something.

“After all,” she finished the thought, “I'm not at all sure how much experience you've had dancing a girl's part, and I though we could go over some of the finer points. You might also give me some of your ideas as well.”

She walked up to me, smiling still, which caused my eyes to constantly shift from her face to the dress, and back again in abject terror. I must have looked like an idiot during a fire drill at the Sunny Hills Home.

I jumped a little when she continued speaking. “I'll be right back, and then we can get started.” She finished, and headed for one of the smaller dressing rooms along the back wall.

I watched the door close behind her with a sense of relief. For a moment or two there, I'd thought that she had some unusual ideas as to how to teach me to dance like one the girls. I was glad she was walking away, as I'm sure that the face of relief I was making must have been pure Broadway.

After watching the door swing softly into place behind her, however, the most interesting thing in the room seemed to be that rack of dresses. I'd never been much for the theater, so had spent precious little time in this part of the theater building. I'd had no thought that these were here. I was impressed by some of the things that had been collected here over the years. Most of the dresses themselves looked like something that would have clothed the extras in a Dickens play.

Running my hand over the closest one, I was impressed by how heavy it was, and I pushed its neighbors away so that I could see it better. Somehow I'd been expecting that these costumes would all be made out of bed sheets, or something else equally cheap, but these were quite real - and quite lovely.

Just as the green gown had been, which I realized only now that the threat of being embarrassed in front of Miss Lynn had faded.

As I moved into the racks where they were pushed to the wall, I peeked under several sheets. Obviously some of them were organized by play, having things such as military uniforms and such. There wasn’t much of interest on those, which is why I noticed the pictures.

Obviously they hadn’t been dusted for some time. There were many, from plays and productions of the past, and some of them were so faded that I knew that the boys in them would be long gone. It made me want to look more carefully.

Some of the pictures had funny things, like one group of boys standing in a boat in long dresses, holding a stuffed marline. Some had them being carried on their classmate’s shoulders, or been kneeling on the tops of pyramids of other boys. Several even had pretty girls in them too, and I read the names listed below…

I looked at the picture again, and read the names. Looking back, I found that the boy’s names sounded a little funny to me, Bartholomew and Nord, but they were all boys’ names.

I don’t now how long I looked but scanning the pictures again, there were at least five of them. Some shy, but most looking confident or serene, as they had stood for their pictures.

My insides tingled as I went back to look at them again, each in their turn, confirming that each was indeed lovely in their own right.

I might have stared for hours, had I not heard a bang from something falling over in the dressing room. Suddenly I wanted to move away. It was too personal to share.

I moved back to the rack that Miss Lynn had uncovered.

The gown that caught my eye was a beautiful royal blue velvet, its material seemingly able to catch light from out of nowhere. Although it was only one color, it seemed to glow with highlights in every hue from sky to royal blue.

Beside that, there was a black dress, of a more modern design, and on the other side, a cream-colored dress that looked like a heavy satin material, with a gold piping around the bodice. They were all very beautiful, and I could not resist looking them over, at the details of the necklines and the sleeves, and of course running my hands over them to sample the softness of fabrics that were barely known to me.

I kept coming back to the midnight blue dress, however; its color and beautiful old-fashioned style drawing my eye over and over again. I'm not sure what prompted me to pick that one up. I suppose it was to see it better free of the crowded rack, and to feel its weight. Deep inside, I already knew why I held it up against my chest. It was the same reason I looked at the fashion, and makeup stuff.

Miss Lynn had been right of course. She had been right back, only I had not noticed her standing behind me, now wearing the pretty green gown. I had all but forgotten her, until I saw her green eyes fixed on me. Perhaps it was the rustle of that gown as its hem swept along the floor; or, perhaps it was an intake of breath that told me that she was there. I'm not sure which had finally caught my notice, but whichever it was, it convinced me that she had been standing behind me long enough to see me hold the dress against myself longingly as I'd rubbed my free hand down the velvet bodice.

Blushing bright red, I carefully put the dress back on the rack without looking back, even as she came up beside me.

“Pretty, aren't they?” She spoke softly, as she reached my side. From the corner of my eye, I could again see her signature smile. “I'd have chosen that one myself, except for the fact that it seemed too beautiful to get dirty or torn just to teaching a bunch of first-timer's how to dance.”

I was sure that she could see my face had turned quite red, as I tried in vain to meet her eyes. I'd never met anyone who could look through me like she could, let alone as easily as she seemed to be doing it. It was like finding oneself suddenly in a crowded room, naked, and trying to explain what you intended to do with that big bowl of jell-O.

Looking away from me, her eyes swept the gowns again, giving me the distinct impression that she was trying to change the subject to allow me to collect myself with no further embarrassment.

“They are quite lovely, actually. I suppose, that is just one of the advantages of being at a school that has had a hundred years of wealthy patrons to donate such as these.” She glanced back at me for a moment only, before she continued. “In the first college I taught in, most of what they had was so cheap they seldom survived the show itself. Nothing like they have here.”

“Wa… Why?” my speech failed me temporarily in my embarrassment, but she knew what I had meant, and ignored my sudden stammer.

“Simple really.” She explained. “Not all of the girls who attend are going to be wearing leather miniskirts. Many, god forbid, will even be in long formal gowns. I thought it might be a good idea to wear one during the class, to help the boys learn what not to step on.”

“You don't intend that I…” was all I got out before she interrupted me.

“No.” She was grinning good-naturedly, again, which was somehow making my blush that much worse. “Heavens, I'm all for doing our best to help the boys out, but I'm not about to push you quite that far.” Looking away for a moment, I imagined that I could actually hear the corners of her mouth crinkle, when her smile became just a little more mischievous, “unless of course you'd like to try one on?”

“I'm not sure if that would be such a good…” I began, but as I looked back her smile was anything but mischievous. She was watching me very closely with a kind but serious look, “…idea.”

She just watched me, giving me the feeling that she could hear what I was thinking, too. I was suddenly certain she knew the answer I longed to give.

Turning away, she moved over toward a record player that was sitting beside the wall nearest the stage. “Well, I can only say that you have excellent taste, Chris. I think that's the most beautiful dress there and that the color would be very good for your complexion.”

If she could see my complexion at that moment, I think she might have had to change her mind rather quickly, as I felt the flush of heat finally rise past my eyebrows.

“Now, what I'd like to do quickly is to try to show you some of the differences you'll need to use as you try to follow your partner's lead. If your partner is a good dancer, it can be very easy, but if like most men, he was born with two left feet…”

It was hard to pay as much attention as I should have been. I can't describe it, exactly. Dream, nightmare, or broken circus ride, all I knew was that right then the feelings moving through me blocked out even the sound of her voice most of the time with all that rushing in my ears. Not only had Miss Lynn offered to let me wear the gown, but it became obvious that she now intended to dance with me, without any further warning.

It was certainly a state of shock.

Pushing a button that caused the curtain between the stage and the dressing area to draw back, she took my hand and drew me onto the stage proper.

“It's very good that you are a little smaller than I, because it will make it much easer to show you how to follow my lead. I want you to listen to the music, and try to be relaxed. I won't hurt you, you silly thing.” She grinned a little at my resigned terror. “Besides, you may even find that it's rather nice to have someone lead you around a dance floor.”

On the brighter stage, I could see that Miss Lynn was also wearing more makeup than I'd ever seen her in. She was very pretty to start with, but the sophisticated look made me just stare at her like a little sheep with nothing in its little woolly head.

“Very good.” She smiled, as she placed her hand on my waste, and took my hand in hers. “You need to be willing to lend yourself to your partner.”

By some instinct, my other hand just naturally reached for her shoulder, more for balance than anything as she drew me closer, I'm sure. “You should just watch me, and try to feel me lead you where we are holding hands, and the cues that I give you when I press you here.” She finished her instruction by pulling me a little closer to her with her hand on my waist.

Somewhere behind me I heard the sound of the ancient phonograph record fall onto the turntable, followed by a scratching of the needle over the speakers around the stage.

I'm not sure what the waltz was, but since most sound much the same, it really did not matter. I was still looking up at Miss Lynn's pretty face as the gentle tug of her hand forced me to take a step with her. My fear left me weak and devoid of volition, as another step followed, and then another.

I'm sure that if it had been my place to lead her that I'd not have been able to move at all.

The biggest hurtle had come, though, when I had to remember to breathe, somewhere on the other side of the stage. Miss Lynn said, “Just relax, and breathe normally, or you'll soon be out of breath.” This once tried, also gave me my first good whiff of the beautiful scent she was giving off as her skin began to heat up. I can't imagine how silly I looked, as I just could not drag my eyes away from her face. I simply continued to gaze up at her as we waltzed several times around the stage.

Before I knew it, I was standing alone in the middle of the stage, and Miss Lynn had stepped back clapping her hands together several times.

“My god, Chris that was very good.” She said, her breathing a little heavier in what seemed like excitement. “Where on earth did you ever learn to do that? With a little practice, I think you could be quite marvelous,” she said coming forward putting her hand on my shoulder. “I've been told that the best dancers look only at their partner, but I've never been able to do that myself. You make it look easy. I wish I had you around when it was time for me to learn to dance. You make a much better partner than my college roommate, that's for sure!”

My brain kept asking itself what she was saying, as I struggled to understand what it was that she was trying to tell me, while most of my brain tried to make me breathe. Before I knew it, she was back in front of me once more. “Let’s see how you like this next one.”

She began to tell me all sorts of little things about how a girl needed occasionally to take longer steps to avoid getting her skirt stepped on; or, that higher heels often made a girl's steps more graceful, simply because of the need to keep her feet under her body. She did that more and more, until after the third waltz, when she paused for a moment to smile down at me.

“Chris, I can't tell you how impressed I am. If you'd just remember how to breathe, you'd probably be a much better dancer than I am.” She panted good-naturedly, a little out of breath, “with a little practice of course,” she giggled.

Then she paused for just a moment to press a button on the old phonograph before she continued. “The last waltz on this side is the one I'm sure you know. It's Roger's and Hammerstein's waltz from Cinderella.”

I could not help but blush again. I checked out that DVD, at least one weekend a month. I hid it under my shirt to get it to my room, and only listened through headphones. It was most prominent on the list of my loans, surely.

“…Not that you need the practice really, but I'd appreciate it if you'd do one more dance with me. I've always loved this one, ever since I was a little girl. Shall we?” She asked finally.

I nodded dumbly as she once again drew me toward her in step with the music.

     “OK gentlemen, please come in, and line up along the back of the stage.” She said loudly, some time later.

“Would you look at that!” someone amongst them said loudly from the darker audience seating, which was only the loudest exclamation that the boys made as they all took note of how Miss Lynn was dressed. Most just nudged or tapped a buddy, out of sight behind the lights.

Miss Lynn was unfazed, and was in fact a lot more business like than she usually was in a classroom, and certainly much more so than she was outside of one. “Line up quickly, men, we have very little time.”

There was some shuffling of feet, as the other students, most of them I noted in classes two or three years ahead of me, got into position. Mrs. Pierce obviously gave Miss Lynn the more mature students where she could. Few, if any noticed me, which was a good thing, as I was still a little flushed and unsteady on my feet from my own 'lessons.'

Most of the brief instructions I had received fled from my memory, as I tried to decide wither or not the fact that I barely knew these boys would make my job easier, or harder.

“For those of you who don't know, this is Chris.” She indicated me without looking in my direction, which all of the other students there did do. “You are very lucky, because it turns out that Chris here is a superb dancer.”

Superb!, Shit. …Behind a jet ski, blindfolded with dog-bone in his teeth… Oh forget it. Christ!..

“Yeah. Of course he is. Look at him.” A boy who was positively skulking near the back in fear, said loudly, causing only about a third of those present to laugh a little.

“You.” Miss Lynn pointed right at his nose from across the stage. “Front and center. Causing the boy to shuffle out to meet her, where I could see that he was the boy who had jokingly volunteered in the general assembly. Now that his fate was upon him, he looked distinctly less enthusiastic. A quick scan of his classmates showed me that most of them had little regard for what he thought was humorous.

“Now.” Miss Lynn said to the group rather more loudly than usual, as she nodded to me to push the lever on the turntable with a small twinkle in her eye. “I rather think that this will be an example of how not to make yourselves look like asses.”

Everyone was still laughing at the blushing boy, when after the music had begun, she had to ask him loudly, “Well?” To his credit, he did try at that point, but it was obvious that he'd never danced with a human girl before. Even I felt bad for him, when he tripped Miss Lynn. Not half of the first waltz was over, before she let him skulk back to the seats in the first row, to sit and recover all but his dignity. That was gone forever.

With a slight gesture toward me, Miss Lynn indicated that I should stop the music.

“Now, Gentlemen,” She began again, but this time in her normal kind voice, “I trust that will not be necessary again. You see this is not as easy as it looks, but you can all learn. Unlike some of the more modern dances we all do, all you have to do is to know the steps of a waltz, and anyone, no matter how many left feet they were born with, can do it -- adequately.”

She took a deep breath and shook her head.

“However, you can't just expect to walk out onto the dance floor in front of all of those girls, and be able to do it because you saw it in a movie.”

She looked at them then, catching each one of them by the eye. Every face was serious. “Good. In addition, if any of you feel the need to say something stupid like that again, try to remember my physical education credits were all in judo. So help me.” She said it simply, without stresses, and then turned to the boy who had embarrassed himself so badly. “Are you, Okay?”

“Yeah.” He answered her while trying not to sound sulky, but failed at that as well.

“Well, just remember this, Mr. Bradford, I promise that I will teach you how to dance with me, in an acceptable fashion before we are done.” She looked back at the group, and then took everyone by surprise. “Chris, would you start the music, and come over here please?”

My knees were shaking with fear, as I dropped the needle on the edge of the record, and quickly walked over to Miss Lynn.

“Now, I'm going to lead here, just to let you guys see what you are missing, but I promise that if you pay attention, you will all not only find that you can do this too, but that you'll enjoy it.”

Well that was all she was able to say, when I once more felt the tug of her hand on my waist. Somehow, I did manage to see a few of their faces over her shoulder, but as usual I found that I was watching her face almost all of the time. When the music ended, the guys were just staring, about half of them open-mouthed.

“Thank you, Chris.” She said, and then continued too softly for the others to hear. “That was lovely. When the class is over, you'll have to tell me how you do that.” She turned to scan the faces. “You. Mr. Lee. You're up.”

Jacob Lee was perhaps the most athletic of the seniors present, but we all looked up to him more now for the confident way he strode out to Miss Lynn.

“Chris, if you please…”

The first class went very quickly, after that. Miss Lynn got every one of the group to dance with her first, and then began to lecture them on ways to dance properly and well. All I did was to turn the music on and off. Later, I was told that in some of the other classes, several of the guys had declined to dance with the other teachers. I guess it was better to do this with someone very pretty and closer to your own age.

After we were through, and the boys filed out, she turned to me. “Thank you, Chris. Tomorrow I'm going to run into town, to look for a new skirt, and to pick up a couple of CD's. By Friday, you should be off phonograph duty. Sorry.” She patted my upper arm gently.

I started to pack up the records we had used, when I realized she was still watching me.

“Now for the question I've been dying to ask. Where on earth did you learn to dance like that? It's so lovely.”

I just shrugged a little, looking a little silly and immature I suppose. “It's simple, really. It's one of the things that I used to do with my mom.” I could see her eyes filling with compassion when I got the courage to look into them.

“When I was a kid, both my parents used to play with me a lot whenever they were around.” She made a face at that, and for a moment I thought I saw her lips move to tell me I was still a 'kid', but she said nothing. “My Mother used to love this kind of dancing, and from the time I was very small, she used to love to play the music, and dance with me. I enjoyed it. She's very pretty too.”

There seemed little to say after that. It was a painful memory just then, which it had never really been before now. "I miss them terribly. I really do.” I finished sadly.

“I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't realize it would hurt you, and I should have guessed.”

I shrugged.

“Well, you should know that your mother did you a very big favor. You dance wonderfully, and when the dance comes, you'll have your pick of all the girls to dance with … including me.” She grinned.

“Yeah,” I answered, feigning chagrin, “but what good will it do me when all I'll know how to do is to follow?” I was gratified when she laughed at the joke.

“Don't worry Chris. This is the twenty-first century. Lots of girls like to lead…” We both cast off my sadness of only moments before.

“Did you really take Judo?” I asked.

“No. I actually taught Judo for the extra money, for a while, but now I just keep a golf club in my car at all times.” She giggled like a girl talking with her friends.

     The next day was conspicuous only in that I did not get teased at all. I was called 'Ginger' or 'Chrissy' a couple of times, but it was more like being referred to as one of 'the Gingers'. Once, I realized that one of the guys was actually asking my advice. It was weird but nice of him, since he seemed very nice and very grateful for my help. There was little I could do except to tell him to practice as much as he could, and then head for my civics lecture.

Friday was an easy day for me - usually. I'd somehow managed to come up with only two classes on that day, both in the morning, which was probably the only way I'd ever impressed any of my classmates till now. I hung around for a little while, before I somehow found myself drifting toward the theater by mid afternoon.

The theater had that unused smell again, even though I knew that the janitorial staff had just recently cleaned up the stage area. Even after finding the one light switch that seemed to control actual lights, the place still had a distinctly deserted feel to it.

Without any conscious decision, I set about clearing the stage area of the few props that had been left there, and quickly moved the small table for the player over to its former place.

That had taken all of three minutes, leaving me to look around for anything else that needed to be done. Given that I had almost a half hour before Miss Lynn wanted me to be here, there was little else to do, besides paint the walls. I had actually intended to set up, and then head to my room. However, with more time and curiosity than common sense, I began to poke about.

Several storage closets that lined the far wall looked mildly interesting, so I opened the first one, to find it was full of small props. It had several pairs of lamps, a couple of old style telephones, and a few potted plants made of silk, and, god forbid, a pair of fake plastic ruby slippers.

“Dorothy,” I murmured, realizing I might have gotten off easy.

The next closet had a couple of boxes piled in front of it, which looked like they hadn't been moved for a couple of years until I slid them aside. It was full of ballet costumes. The tutus, about a dozen of them, looked as if they’d come out of a school for dancing gorillas, complete with pink leotards and net skirts that stuck straight out. The shelves above held ballet slippers for elephants.

Closing the door, I could not help but laugh to myself. No matter how bad the guys thought they had it now, apparently some of the poor souls who had come before, had had it much worse. School administrators, as all students knew, were a sick and twisted bunch.

“What's so funny Chris?” Miss Lynn said unexpectedly behind me, startling me out of my wits, which I suppose was okay, that being my normal state around her lately.

I turned just in time to see her set a new CD player on the small table that I'd placed for that purpose, and watch her walk over to flip a couple of switches I'd not seen behind a cabinet along the front wall.

Walking toward me, I couldn't really think of a better way to explain what was so funny, so I just threw the door to closet number two fully open.

“Oh, my word!” Miss Lynn said, as she came closer. Shaking her head, she started to laugh too, as she told me, “You guys thought that you had it bad.”

“That's why I was laughing.” I told her closing the door. “If you have any trouble with any of the guys tonight, I guess you could show them these, and tell them that the next dance they attend will be an exhibition.”

She giggled a little more, but quickly began to move over to place several items on a small worktable near us. “I don't think that would work out, and besides, I'm pretty sure it's illegal, and even if it's not, it should be. Don't worry. After yesterday, I don't think that anyone is going to be giving either of us a bad time.” She started to sort out a few things on the table, before asking “You're a little early, Chris. Hiding out?”

“No, Ma'am.” I shrugged, while pulling open the next closet, that contained what looked like wigs, and possibly a couple of road kills near the bottom. “I just have a light schedule on Fridays, because I have a long day on Monday. The Math Tutor comes in for a late class on Monday, so I get Friday afternoons off.”

“Oh,” she said not paying much attention, really, as she glanced around the door to look into the third closet. “Ewww!” She said softly. “What do you think that is? A squirrel?”

This time, she made me laugh, as I answered amazed at the way she mirrored my own thoughts.. “I was ready to vote for raccoon, myself, but I'm pretty sure that it's long past the time that it makes any difference for that poor creature, whatever it was.”

I suppose she had finally put me at my ease, because when she laughed, it relaxed me almost completely.

“You are very funny too, Chris. The girls who get to dance with you will be the lucky ones.” She said finally, beaming at me without further explanation. “Here.” She said, shoving several CD's and a small Radio-shack bag into my hands. “I'm going to change real quick, why don't you see if you can hook the CD into the sound system. I think I bought the right adaptor, but the stuff over there is so old, and the guy at the store was about twelve at best.” She raised her eyebrows to mock my surprise, and headed off to the small dressing room at the back.

I found the proper adaptor for the old system. It was in a small kit that she had purchased, leaving a couple of other adaptors she'd bought in individual packaging as useless. I yelled to her, that I'd been successful.

“Great.” Came her muffled reply. “Just throw the other stuff into the bag with the receipt, so I can get some of my money back.”

I'd not even finished that, before she came swishing back out to lean over a makeup mirror that she lighted, and began putting on some makeup. “Be good, and throw one of the CD's in to try it out, will you?”

I popped it in, and then without realizing what I was doing, I found myself drifting over to stare at her progress. I'd seen plenty of makeup on girls, but I'd never seen anyone except my mother putting it on before. I guess it showed.

Suddenly, her eyes cut over in my direction, and she smiled at me again. “No big sister's at home, aye Chris.”

I shook myself physically.

“I'm…, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…” I began to apologize, suddenly feeling as if I'd been caught peering up her dress or something.

“It's Okay Chris.” She said, and then continued to finish off her eyes. “I've never met anyone, male or female that wasn't fascinated to watch someone putting on her makeup. It's perfectly normal, and it's perfectly Okay. I don't mind, even though some girls would rather you watch them putting on underwear.” She paused. “Sorry, that came out wrong, but you know what I mean.”

She finished herself off quickly, but I couldn't have told anyone exactly what it was that she had done. She was blazingly fast with a makeup sponge. Must have been the judo, I thought to myself.

“Well, how do I look?” She smiled.

“You look, beautiful.” I said before I had been able to think. “I… I mean…”

“What? I don't look beautiful?” All I could do was blush, which made her laugh at me again.

“Well thank you, very much.” She said, deliberately taking it the wrong way, to torture me.

Time to surrender, and tell them all I knew. “You do look very beautiful, Miss Lynn.” I said, without any other recourse. “You know that I think you are just about the prettiest woman I've ever seen.”

That stopped her, teasing me. “Why thank you, Chris.” She even blushed a little herself, this time. “I think that's the nicest compliment I've gotten in quite a while.”

“You're welcome, Miss Lynn.” I said, glad finally to be able to talk around her. “Which leads to the question as to why you're doing it. Why do you wear the makeup at all?”

“Well, it's simple, really. I like makeup, but if I wear it too much, I tend to break out. I also wanted to get the guys used to the idea that the woman at the ball are going to be fully made up in their finest. Mrs. Pierce suggested that it might be a good idea for them to realize that, and to get used to the idea. It's like a warning sign for girls, Chris. When they take the time to look pretty for a boy, he has to realize she needs to be treated more like a lady than one of his chums.” She paused, before smiling in admission, “And, since it gave me the chance to wear a nice dress, I thought it would feel nice too.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” I said mulling it over. “Not the part about getting the guys used to girls dressed up, the part about feeling nice…”

Most people think old sneakers smell bad, and they probably don't spend anywhere near as much time with them in their mouths as I seem to lately.

Miss Lynn just patted my shoulder, and went to inspect the CD, which was playing some song softly over the sound system.

“Very good, Chris. Now lets see if…” She began to look through several CDs on the table. “They didn't have a very good selection, but I found one good one. here it is!” She quickly changed the disk, and came toward me. “Wait till you hear this. I have not heard it in years, and it's very nice.”

Softly, the waltz began to play, and she was right. It was very pretty. Without further preamble, she stepped to me, and slipped her hand onto my waist to lead me onto the stage…

     “I'm certain that you can all hear me just fine. Everyone line up in order of height. The tallest of you should be on my extreme right, and the smallest of you right over here.” Miss Lynn directed with her left hand, as the guys shuffled about trying to sort themselves by height.

In the end, it took only a few moments, and Miss Lynn changed several of the boys around a little, to get it right.

“Very good. Thank you.” She finally said, as she surveyed the group with some sense of satisfaction.

One of the guys looked over to where I was still trying to catch my breath from Miss Lynn dancing me around the stage for a quarter of an hour. All I could do was to shake my head. I had no earthly idea what she was up to.

“Now, you are paired off.” She said simply, as starting from the smallest, she separated the boys into pairs. “As may have become obvious to all of you, there is no way that even Chris and I together can give you the kind of practice time that you all need.” No one even groaned, it was so obvious to all of them. “So, look at the boy you are paired with, because they will be the person you will have to practice with while we are working with other students. Chris and I will be taking turns with you, but you will need to try to work together. So, just like I showed you all last time. The taller boy will lead.”

The groans now interrupted her long enough to take notice of the opposite side of the stage where four boys had switched partners, obviously to avoid someone they did not get along with. “That's fine, just as long as you stay that way…, and as for you two, I don't care who leads now. We will all be taking turns.”

Then Miss Lynn directed me to set the selection she intended to play, and taking my hand directed me toward one of the taller boys, who I knew as Tom something or other.

Somehow, the fact that he was more embarrassed than I helped a little. “It's OK, Tom. I don't expect you to bring me flowers or anything.”
We both laughed, me because I had no idea where it came from. “Here. You put your hand on my waist, and hold my hand out like this…”

It got a lot easier. Several of the boys, I realized, were not bad dancers. Not quite as good as Miss Lynn, but at least they were more used to leading. The boy, Tom Anders, a senior was at least as good as I was, because he had had some lessons at some time or other.

Knowing that I was a little shy, Tom began talking to me as we danced around the stage with the half of the 'couples' who could fit at any one time.

“No! Please, Gentlemen.” Miss Lynn said with some exasperation in her voice, as she pulled a remote from somewhere to kill the Music.

“Listen up, boys.” She said shaking her head. “I have to confess that this is not the problem that I expected to have. Many of you are dancing too closely to each other. This is a waltz, not Greco Roman wrestling. When there are other modern slow dances, what you are doing is fine, but in a waltz it is important for you to keep your proper distance. If you don't, you'll wind up pulling your dates dress off…”

That got their attention, as grins broke out everywhere.

“… And for God's sake, Mr. Bradley, if you are going to let your date keep his hand on your rear the whole time, you'd better wear something ultra conservative and high cut, or it's going to look really trashy!"

“Now…”

With a heavy sigh, Miss Lynn took the bridge of her nose in her fingers to meditate. “Perhaps you are all right about this. Perhaps I should just go back to my apartment, and use the extra time for making up more tests for every class…”

That got their attention too.

“Ah!” She said looking back up. “So you were listening after all. Very well, lets try this again once more,” and she pressed the remote for another waltz.

Stepping forward, she seemed to be trying to fix the torn front hem of her dress as she said to another boy, “Now John, don't be so nervous. Just follow me for this dance, and I'll show you that you don't need to pick up your feet so much to move. It's a waltz, not a square dance.”

“Yee - Ha!” Tom whispered softly, causing me to giggle out loud in spite of myself. “If she doesn't think this is a square-dance, just wait till she gets to dance with my cellmate, Richard Collins.” He chuckled to himself, causing me to raise an eyebrow in query.

“He's been practicing in our room at night, trying to get the steps down, and just in case you’re curious - no he wasn't born with two left feet.” He smiled down at me. “He has about six.”

It was something in his face that caused me to laugh so hard that I almost tripped myself.

“I'm serious.” Tom said. “He broke a chair, and my other roommate had to move out for fear of personal injury. Poor bastard should take that week off if he knows what’s good for him, or at least buy more insurance.”

Amused by his animated descriptions, I was still laughing when the music stopped. “So tell me, Tom.” I asked him trying to keep a straight face. “How long have you guys been dancing in your rooms?”

“Since our first year.” He tried to look dead serious “It helps us unwind from so much studying.”

“Oh.” Was all I could say, before I broke out into giggles, shaking my head.

“Chris?”

“Yes, Tom?” I asked him as the music went to the next track.

“Would you be my date for the prom?” That was it, we both fell apart.

“Well, Chris, what did I tell you?” Miss Lynn said from right behind us. “If you can dance well, you are sure to get a date for every dance.” She looked behind us and told everyone it was time to go and get ready for dinner, “So, that's it for tonight gentlemen. Good job. I'm seeing a lot of progress, and I'll be too tired to make up any new tests.”

The guys cheered, everyone was joking and laughing, happy that it was over.

“Good night then, Gentlemen, and I'll see you all on Monday afternoon.” She finished to the backs of the boys who were already racing for any exit.

I had already begun to move the table over toward the wall. Two blinks, and we were alone.

“I'm glad to see you were having a nice time, Chris.” She said, quietly, as I put back the props I'd moved earlier. “It's a nice change to see you smiling so much.”

I did not know how to respond other than to say 'thank you', to her.

“I think that Tom is a nice boy.” I could see that she was watching me again. “I was wondering what it was that you were talking about, that seemed so funny.”

Turning to look at her, I could see that she had already put all of her things on the table, and had as per her usual, stopped to watch me.

“It was nothing really. He was just telling me about one of his roommates, and about how he's been trying to teach himself how to dance.” I then proceeded to recount much of what he'd told me.

Miss Lynn said very little, and just listened, with that slight smile on her face. Then suddenly she said, “Come here for a moment.”

Something about her manner gave me pause. It was like when she found out about my parents all over again. I know we had been laughing quite a bit, but I was sure that she wasn't mad about that. Still, there was something in the way she watched us. I walked over to her slowly, only to have her put a hand on my shoulder and steer me over to the rack of gowns.

She looked down at the tear on the front of her skirt.

“Can you fix it?” I asked.

“Not me. I'm much more of a duct-tape kind of girl, but our school administrator can fix anything. It' not as bad as it looks. Mind you, most girls learn in their first year in college, to take any dress that's three sizes too big stay on for at least one evening. Safety pin here, hairspray there.., Duct-tape, everywhere…”

She smiled up at me as I giggled again. I was ashamed to act so girly but she was very funny and always nice to me.

“Help me with the cover on this one, Chris.” She pushed me to the opposite side of the rack, and took up the opposite end of the cover herself. It slipped over the gowns, and onto the floor easily with two.

“Are you looking for another gown to wear?” I asked, realizing the one she had worn tonight was one that she'd brought with her.

“Not really.” She said looking at me out of the corner of her eyes for a moment, as she pulled the blue velvet gown out. “I think we should save this one,” she said to herself softly “and then picked out the Green gown that she had first chosen for herself that first night. Holding it up to herself, she looked at me questioningly for a moment or two.

“Chris, I'd like you to do something for me.” She said quietly. “Come here please.”

“Anything, Miss Lynn.” I said no more loudly. “I owe you, big time, for keeping some of those guys off me.”

“I've told you at least twice, that you don't owe me anything, Chris.” She shook her head as if I'd said something particularly stupid. “In fact, I think I'd really like to do something for you.”

“What is it, Miss Lynn?” I asked her, finding it suddenly harder to breathe than it should have been.

She just shook her head a little, and then turned the gown around and held it up to my front, causing me to freeze.

“I'd like you to try this on for me.” She said, watching my face very closely.

I must have been doing a pretty good fish impression.

“It's just as good a color as the blue one, and I think it will be an even better fit for you.” She said softly. “Please, take it.”

Instinct alone caused me to wrap an arm around the gown, allowing her to lay it down over my forearm. She was already moving toward one of the closets that I'd not opened, before I could speak.

“Why, Miss Lynn?”

She stopped to look back at me for a moment, and it gave me the distinct impression that she was a little sad.

“Are you thinking of making me wear a dress to the dance class?” I asked, in a husky voice.

I could see that the closet she'd opened contained shoes.

“Well…, I guess so. Or a skirt really.” She looked at my feet, and began rummaging through the shoes. “Would you please do this for me?” She added. “You can say no if you like. I'd never do anything to upset or frighten you, but it would help me a lot.”

My eyes had fallen to the gown on my arm, which meant that when I looked up, I could see her eyes locked on mine.

Looking at her, I felt my head nod slowly, and my feet began to take me toward the dressing room she had used.

“Thank you, Chris” She took a step or two toward the same door. I did not look at her at all, because the light in the dressing room door was beginning to look like the end of a long dark tunnel. “I promise that this will only take a moment, and if it makes us late for dinner, I'll take you with me to grab something off campus.”

I was closing the door, when she handed me another item, that seemed to come not from the rack, but from the bags she had brought with her. It was in a new plastic wrapper.

“Here, put this on first. Leave your shorts on, if you like, but take off your t-shirt if you are wearing one.”

When I closed the door, I could see that the bag contained a long slip. I also found a package of panties there as well. I know that I spent several minutes just looking at them, but I could not move for the longest time.

“I can help you, if you need me to, Chris.” I heard from just the other side of the door. “There are curtains for privacy.”

That caused me to move, finally.

“No. That's all right.” I said, somehow afraid that someone else would hear me admitting what I was about to do.

“What did you say, Chris? Do you need help?” She asked me again.

I answered more than a little panicked. “No. I think I can manage.” I said as loudly as I dared. “I'm just a little nervous.”

Now why did I tell her that? Because I'm very nervous! I felt like my knees were going to buckle.

I turned the package with the slip over, and carefully peeled the back, freeing the garment. It easily shook out, falling almost to the floor. It was extremely soft, and silky, although I did not think that it was made of silk. It was all white, but had a texture to the upper bodice, that was different from that of the skirt, which was smoother and more shiny.

Hanging the slip on the door, I kicked off my shoes, and began to unbutton my shirt.

My eye caught the package of panties, thinking that it was very weird thing to give me, but it was the perfect chance. I dropped my shirt on the floor, and picked up the package, and found that it needed to be torn open, which I did. The panties were in three colors, blue, pink, and white. All were very silky too, with a lace pattern around the leg and waist.

Miss Lynn had not said one way or the other, but by telling me that I could keep on my shorts, it was obvious that I need not wear them. I realized, suddenly, that I'd torn them open without really thinking. She couldn't either use or return them now. Why had I done that?

It shocked me to hear my own voice answer the question. “Because you are dying to try them on too,” I whispered to the fool in the mirror.

From the other side of the door, I heard. “Is everything all right?” Then a little more softly “Are you freaking out on me in there?”

“Yes.” I said too softly for her to hear, probably, as I dropped my pants and stepped out of them. “I'm just fine.”

“Well don't worry, Chris. It's just you and me and everyone else is gone. No one comes in here ‘till Monday.” She was right on the other side of the door again. “Besides, if anyone asks anything, we have a perfectly legitimate excuse. You must have heard, Mrs. Pierce has had Mr. Thomas in a skirt since Wednesday.”

“Really?” I asked, surprise raising the level of my voice to clearly audible finally. “I can't believe that I've not heard that.” I was shocked. News like that is the only thing in the known physical universe that travels faster than light.

“Not surprising, because she's been having him practice outside of the class with her. She hasn't made him wear it to a class yet. Only the teacher's know.” I could hear her smile again.

“Great.” I said, loading the word with sarcasm.

Miss Lynn just chuckled. “Are you sure you haven't fallen in, in there?”

I'd finally begun to move a little faster, as I reached for the white panties, and stepped into them. “I've got it now. Just a moment.”

The sensation was incredible. It was not just that the panties were soft and silky. It was more. The sight of them in the mirror seemed to bring a sense of calm over me. I paused for only a moment, to look at them front, back, and every angle, before I tucked myself under a little more tightly. I loved the way they looked in the back, which was very much like the picture on the package.

More quickly, I lifted the slip, and knowingly dropped it down over myself. It was weird, having it fall so far, and that caused me to get an arm through the neck hole for a moment or two. Once I'd straightened it out, I found that it was much like the panties, only more so. I could feel it slide over the silky texture of the underwear, which felt kind of nice. I paused to look at myself, and found that I was running my hands all over the garment, feeling the texture, and inspecting the differences in how I looked.

I wanted more, so I turned to pick up the gown with even less hesitation, and tried to do the same with it, but it got hung up on the back of the slip.

“Miss, Lynn?” I called as loudly as I dared.

“Yes, Chris.” Again the voice was just outside of the door.

I was about to say 'help', when I felt the door open behind me.

“Oh, my,” she said softly. “Here let me help you.” She began pulling the skirt of the dress down around me, quickly causing it to fall almost all of the way down, in a manner that I'd not been able to accomplish.

“With the gown, it's easier to step into them usually.” She tugged again.

“Ah!” She said behind me. “There are loops inside of the gown to help hang it. You got one caught on the buttons on the back of your slip. Hold still, dear.”

Something in the way she spoke made my knees shake.

I felt her hand pressing my back for a moment, as she reached down the back of the gown. “It's okay, Chris. Calm down. You are in no danger.” She said, sounding like a paramedic lending aid to an injured person while watching me blush in the mirror..

“I'm all right.” I managed.

“No you're not.” She said, finally slipping the two garments apart, allowing the dress to fall completely to my feet.

“Now listen for a moment.” She said while rubbing my back and shoulders absently. “It really is okay. This is just another type of clothing, that's all. They are much softer, and much prettier than boy's clothes, but they are only clothes just the same. They don't leave any permanent marks. I understand if you feel nervous, but that's just a feeling. You are perfectly all right, and I won't let anything happen to you. Right?”

I was somehow able to nod my head again. I really did believe her, even though it could have been a distinct lack of oxygen reaching my brain. Next year, I was going to go out for the underwater swim team.

“Do you need a minute?” she asked, leaning to one side, looking at me now from all angles.

“No.” I managed a one-word answer, sure that I could not have managed two.

“Do you want to keep going.” She asked gently, her hands on my shoulders now to steady me, even as I struggled to make my lungs work as nearly normally as possible.

I knew that her simple question was a turning point. If I said 'no', then I'd change, and it would be over. I'd at least have the illusion of… Yes, that's what I'd have - an illusion. Somehow I felt my head nod.

“Do you want me to help you getting dressed?” She asked, in a very soft and very friendly voice that left no doubt as to what she meant by dressed.

My heart answered for me, somehow fearing that if it left the decision to my brain, I'd end up saying something really stupid. “More than anything, please.” I said, as I once more nodded my head.

It took the last of the reserve oxygen in my body to say it, but it embodied all of the feelings that I'd felt pent up inside of me. Once out, it made room for the air to rush back in finally.

“Good.” Her voice said, as she steered me toward the mirror. “Usually, Chris, you'd put all of your things on, including your shoes, but for now, I just wanted you to be able to try this on for me.”

I caught sight of the dress in the mirror. It was beautiful, even blurry from the moisture that was affecting my vision.

Miss Lynn began to fasten the back. “In order for you to wear the blue gown properly, I think it will need a corset. Mr. Darcy told me that he has some of those around here, but that he's never required them. We can see if we can find one, if you like, but for now I thought this dress would be easier for you to manage as it's a looser style with a fuller waist… Just to see how you like it.”

I knew that she was trying to make me feel better, by chatting to me like she was, while I felt her hands quickly fastening the long row of buttons on the back of the dress. I'd need her to get out of this thing, I realized, but I could only watch myself in the dress, as the image in he mirror became familiar to me. As she closed the back, it took shape around me, like a long slow hug. It not only looked beautiful, but it felt wonderful too, which was something that I'd never expected. My hands began to roam over the dress, even as my eyes watched every part of it in the mirror.

“Pretty?” Miss Lynn asked me.

“Oh, Miss Lynn...” I saw the person in the mirror commit before even I thought to stop him. “It's beautiful.”

She giggled then and said. “I think that you can call me Amy just this once, Chris.” She giggled more . “When we are alone of course. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Okay. Now come here.” She took me to a seat along the side of the wall, and began to fluff up my hair, taking a green ribbon from a table, and looping it under the back. “Fortunately your hair is long enough to be a short hair style for a girl. I'll do a little with it now, but If you ever get the chance, you have a very cute face that would look nice with some of the shorter haircuts for girls.” She said cheerily.

I could not see a mirror, but could feel her pulling the hair in front into bangs. Then, she picked up some scissors, and quickly made little snips in the front. To think, I'd been just about to get the haircut that my other teachers were saying was long overdue.

Long hair met the dress code, but teachers were always on you to keep it neat.

I'd closed my eyes, partially to keep any hair out of them, and partially because I felt like swooning, when I felt her pull a cloth around my shoulders, and start to pat something wet on my face.

“This will only take a moment, and I promise it will be worth the time.” I wanted to open my eyes, but I did not until she told me to. I could feel as she put makeup around my eyes, having me open them, looking up and down when she told me to. I sat still as she brought a brush close to my lashes, and brushed them, let them dry, and brushed them again after drawing around my eyelids. Then she had me close them, as she brushed my eyelids repeatedly, from the crease to my brows. Finally she brushed my cheeks again softly, and told me to open my eyes.

“Now make your mouth relaxed, dear.” She said, her eyes watching my mouth. “Good, now just relax, and don't make kissy faces.”

I could smell the lipstick over the other makeup, even before I could feel it on my lips. It was like the slip and panties - very soft and silky. I sighed out loud as she slid it over and over my lips, causing her to giggle at me.

“I had a girlfriend once, who had this weird lipstick fetish.” She confided, as she slid another coat onto my lips. “She used to ask me to do this to her too.”

I could not believe that she was confiding this to me, which she must have read on my face, causing her to smile.

“Oh grow up!” She said over a giggle. “How else do you think they'd let me into this school at my age?”

I was stunned.

“It was only that my aunt could tell them that she was certain that I was no danger to you little monsters, if you don't' count the three wood in my car. I mean, I'm not completely sure of the conversation, but I'm pretty darned sure of the impression she must have given them.” She finished, standing back to inspect her handiwork.

“I mean, no danger. What I can tell you is, that that boy Tom is very nice, but before you make any big decisions, you should really try kissing another girl wearing lipstick. The feeling is indescribable.”

I opened my eyes, I'm sure quite widely at that.

“Wow.” She was shaking her head. “Well I was wrong about one thing, Chris. You don't have a cute face. With a little makeup, you are damned pretty. I think you may just be the only student in this school who may actually be in danger from some of my friends.” She smiled, to tell me that she wasn't really serious.

“No kidding though, Chris, You need to look at this.”

She took me by the hands, and pulled me up facing her.

“Now I want you to stay calm. No fainting or anything. If you feel the need to sit, just tell me. okay?”

“Is it that bad?” I asked, suddenly very frightened.

“It's that good, Chris. You are beautiful. More than enough to give the ladies at the ball a run for their money. Look.”

At first it made no sense. Then it dawned on me that the pretty girl in the mirror was me. I was... Just like the dreams. All I could do was stare as I took a step foreword. I watched the eyes growing larger as my breathing was beginning to strain. I realized too, that Miss Lynn had never taken her hands off my arms, as she stood behind me watching.

“I'm okay. I won't faint.” I managed to lie. “Is that really me?”

“It sure is. Amazing, is all I can say.” Her eyes were fixed just as mine were, as I began to turn my head a little to see how she'd fixed my hair. It was gathered around the back, with bangs in the front, and a ribbon tied in a pretty bow at the top of my head. She was watching very closely, as she spoke, “And just for the record, Chris, the last thing that my brother said before he fainted, was that he wouldn't faint. Do you want to sit?”

I nodded my head, and she helped me over to the chair. My knees gave no resistance.

She left the room for a moment, only to come back with one of those paper cups full of water, which she held up to my lips.

“Careful of the dress.” She said as I sipped a little. “Almost anything stains silk.”

“Well, what do you think?” She asked me after a moment.

Once more, it was my heart that answered. “It's better than I ever dreamed. Do you really think I'm... that it looks good?” I asked, my stupid eyes watering a lot now.

“Oh, my god, yes.” She said, taking my hands. “I'm not kidding. You are adorable. I mean I thought you'd look nice, but even I didn't think you look like this. It's really very good.” She promised me sincerely.

She asked me a question then, which seemed so natural. “Tell me, Chris, isn't this what you've wanted, looking at those catalogues and fashion books and magazines?”

I looked at her, still afraid, even after all she'd done. I also knew that this was something that I could never hide from her, too. I closed my eyes, and nodded, even as I felt tears finally slid onto my cheeks. “As long as I can remember.”

For a time after than, we just sat there, me with an occasional tear slipping from my eye, and she rubbing my arm. For part of it, I really felt like I might pass out, but she began talking to me, and I think I was too excited by all of it to let myself relax that much.

After several minutes, I composed myself, and went to stand once more to go and look in the mirror.

“Hold on a moment, Chris.” She held my arm with one hand, and reached for a tissue with the other. “Give me a moment to fix your makeup. Most of what I used was waterproof, but as your first lesson in cosmetics, nothing works just as advertised. If it does, it's probably luck.”

I knew that I'd not rubbed my eyes, because of the makeup, so I was a little surprised as I turned politely to face her again. “Did I make much of a mess?” I asked, sorry to have ruined what I'd seen in the mirror that looked so good.

“Not at all, Chris.” She dabbed my eyes. “In fact, you did very little. It will only take a moment to fix it up as good as new. Don't worry. I kind of expected some emotion, which is why this will take a little longer to get off of you. I'll teach you, later. Girls fix their makeup constantly, although by your age, they've lost the instinct to rub their eyes, or pick their noses.”

We both giggled just a little.

“You aren't really doing this for the dance, are you, Miss Lynn?” I asked in a voice that sounded much more calm that I felt.

“No.” She said as she pulled me to my feet. “I could have said so, but the truth is, that this is more about what you've been checking out from the library, and the way you reacted to the dresses. ” She shrugged a little then too. “Sometimes girls just know things too, Chris.”

That sank in fairly quickly. I already knew that I had given away how I really felt. “Amy?”

“Yes?”

“Can't you get in trouble?”

She paused then. “I guess I could, if you were to turn me in.” She smiled at me even then. “I don't think you'll do that, though.”

I shook my head to confirm it without saying that I'd never have betrayed her.

“Besides,” she continued as she steered me toward the mirror, “with the dance, and Mrs. Pierce putting Thomas in a skirt first, I don't see how this can go that badly for either of us.”

I nodded my head. I understood that she was right.

“I'm a little ashamed, but I don't think that I'd be helping you, without the dance. If we'd just done this, I'd probably be out of here about ten minutes after we were caught, because they think I like pretty girls, I'm sure.” She faced me toward the mirror, and stepped up to my shoulder. “That would have been a shame, Chris.”

I nodded, once more drawn to the mirror by an instinct that was suddenly so much stronger than fear.

She gave me a few moments to check that my face was as pretty as it had been before I had cried. “I was hoping that you'd talk to me now, Chris. I'd like to listen to whatever you'd like to tell me.”

I nodded my head a little, and smiled just a very little too.

“There it is!” She said as she smiled back at the mirror. “You are very much prettier when you smile.” She squeezed my shoulders briefly. “I have a request though. May I please have another dance? You are so pretty, and I'd love to very much.”

I nodded my head, as I felt her spray something along my neck. It smelled pretty and feminine.

“Here.” She said handing me a package of knee-high nylons, and a pair of shoes. “Sit down and put these on for me.”

“What would you like to know?” I asked her.

“Everything, and anything you'd like to tell me.” She answered. “It's not an investigation. I just want to be your friend.”

“Why?” the question was out before I thought about how it would sound.

Thank goodness, she laughed a little to herself.

“Well, that's a tough one. I suppose it's because I like you. I think you are one of the nicest boys I've ever met. I also think that you need a friend you can talk to worse than anyone I've ever met.” She thought for a moment “It's no secret that you've been all but abandoned here by your parents. You teachers have also picked up on the fact that although you are fairly well liked around here, you don't seem to have any really close chums you spend your off time with.” She just shrugged her shoulders.

“Is that why you planned all of this?” I asked her, mortified to find that what I thought I'd kept fairly low profile, had been so obvious to so many.

She laughed, to herself I thought, again. “I hate to tell you this, Chris, but I didn't actually plan any of this. I thought about it, but I didn't plan it until about a half hour ago.” She reached down too take the shoe that seemed a little too big for me, and gave me an identical smaller pair.

“But?” I tried to sum it up succinctly. “The underwear?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Chris, the underwear was originally for me. I bought a couple of slips because I wanted to use some of the gowns in here for practice, and I've found that a lot of them have rough seams in them from years of alterations. They were poking me. The other things, including the panties that you seem to have decided to wear, were just things that I'd picked up for myself. Fortunately, you are just about the same size as me, and have a complexion close enough too mine for my makeup to work fairly well. Well…Very well.”

I was stunned. “So you didn't plan this?”

“NO.” She told me very softly, shaking her head. “The truth is, that I made up my mind to offer you this chance when I saw how you were with Tom.”

“Tom?” I was feeling very confused and frightened again.

She paused visibly then, and I could see her thinking. “Yes.”

She stopped to watch, as I slipped on the shoes that fit me well enough, and stood up on a short heel for the first time. “Woe, there, girl.” She said, as she held her hand out to steady me slightly. “Your balance is bound to be a little off, with all the unaccustomed weight in even short heels. Take a moment to walk around a bit.”

I nodded my head and began to take a few steps with her hand on my arm. In fact, I found the shoes felt a little different, but I had no trouble at all walking in them. “What was it about Tom that made you decide to help me?” I asked her, finally.

She paused again, but only for a moment “I'll be honest here, Chris, because I'm asking the same of you, but you have to promise not to be upset. I really don't want to offend you with what I'm about to say.”

I was terrified, at the thought of what awful thing I'd done, or she thought she needed to tell me, but I somehow managed to nod my head in promise.

“Well, It wasn't Tom. It was you.” She was looking at me again, with that examining look. “Please try to understand that I'm not saying this to be mean or to suggest anything; but, when you were dancing with Tom, you looked just like… Well, I think you're more like a girl. ”

Her eyes were checking out my brain, inside my pockets, my everything, which is why I didn't notice what I was doing, until I'd nodded again.

“In fact, when I first looked over at you, I might easily have thought that someone had slipped one of their friends into the practice. The way you were looking up at him, and laughing at him, and the way he reacted to you… well you looked just like any of my friends when I went to high school. You looked just like any one of us would have, except for the silly looking clothes.”

I thought about that, as she inspected my brainwaves, and every minute expression on my face. I understood. A lot of guys that I knew would have wanted to slug her for saying that. At first I was a little taken back by it to be sure, but mostly I just felt relieved. Then I realized, much to my amazement, that the thought her seeing me looking like that made me feel really good inside. I felt good in the same way as breathing in the perfume and knowing it was me, or in the way I looked so much like a girl in the mirror. It made me feel warm and content. That is why I smiled, I'm sure of it.

Miss Lynn, Amy, smiled too.

“I'm so glad that I didn't upset you.” She said, clearly relieved. “That, by the way is why I told you to call me Amy. I can't imagine being who you are, and never having another girl to talk to. Are you okay?”

“I'm not upset. I'm happy.” I put my hand on hers where it rested on my arm. “Did I really act like a girl would have?”

“You sure did!” she said with some enthusiasm creeping back into her voice, to supplant any sign of worry. “You looked just like one with all that giggling and smiling up at the handsome boy who'd asked you to dance.”

I whispered “Now, I look even a little more like that. Thanks to you.” I said it while turning to the mirror to admire just how nicely the dress and makeup made me look.

“More than that, little one.” She said, even though with the heels I was only about a half an inch shorter than she was now. “In fact, I can tell you that most of my friends, when they were your age, would have killed to look as nice as you do now. We haven't even tried half of the tricks either. You look just like a girl for a reason, Chris - a very pretty girl.”

“Thank you.” I said, a little flustered.

“Oh, and one more thing, you should probably know. It's the kind of thing one girl always tells another.” She said a little more seriously, even though she seemed to be grinning a lot more all of a sudden. I half expected her to tell me that my fly was open, except for the fact that I didn't have one at that particular moment.

“What?” I said, sounding pretty worried.

She giggled. “Well its just that I happen to know that the boy Tom was talking about, Richard, their other roommate moved out several months ago.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, as I stopped to look at her confused.

“I mean that I think he made it all up, just to make you laugh.”
She only paused for an instant.

“I think he was reacting to you, the way you were acting, in the same way really nice boys always seem to react instinctively to really nice girls. I think he wanted you to like him.”

I don't even remember her placing the CD in the player.

Somehow, I don't think anyone can appreciate what a waltz really is supposed to feel like unless you've done it in a dress like that. It was wonderful.

What she said to me then, uncannily mirrored my own thoughts yet again.

“Wow.”
 
 

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

Chapter III

     It was almost half past seven by the time Miss Lynn looked at her watch. “I've made you miss dinner, Chris. I'm sorry.”

“I don't mind. It was… worth it.” I said in such a shy way, that it made her grin at me.

“Wait here for a moment while I pop over to my apartment. Why don't you go into the dressing room, and I'll be right back. Okay?”

“Where are you going?” I asked breathlessly, wondering as much about how large my eyes must appear as I was about what she was up to. The thought of finding myself alone in the theater like this made me feel vulnerable, and the thought that someone else might walk in and find me there alone…

She reached out with both hands on my shoulders to turn me around.

“Don't try and take off your makeup, though. Leave it just as it is but you can take off the dress and slip. Just drop it to the floor, and step out of it.” She instructed while unbuttoning me with the speed of a lifetime of practice.

“Do you have your wallet with you?”

Asked suddenly, I had to shake my head in answer. There was no reason to carry a wallet at school. What on earth did she have planned now?

“Is it where I can get it for you?” She asked quickly.

“It's in my room, in the locked drawer in my desk.”

“Do you want to give me the key, or do you want to walk over there with me?”

I slipped her the key, and tried not to look like I was running to the dressing room.

     I had spent some time in the dressing room after changing into my pants but I was well into the process of covering up the racks we had looked through before she got back.

I knew that she was only gone a short time really but it had seemed so much longer.

“Here,” she said, shoving another shopping bag in my hands along with my wallet as she pulled out a pack of pantyhose. “Do you know what these are?” She asked in all seriousness.

“Of course I know what pantyhose are.” I informed her. “I go to a boys' school, not a boys’ planet.”

Far from being annoyed, it just made her grin at me. She knew how likely I was to strangle myself with them. It didn’t even need to be said.

“Good, then you should be able to change for me while I finish up here for you.” She dove into the nearest cabinet, the one that was full of shoes.

She said looking down at my boy's slacks. “Did you change your under things?” She asked only to have me nod. “Well put the pink pair back on before you put on the pantyhose, and if you have any trouble, give me a call. For goodness sakes though, don't run them. They are the only new pair I have left.”

I opened the bag, and I found a pink blouse, a grey skirt and belt set, and a small purse, that looked about the size of a wallet and hung on a long strap.

“Here.” She said, handing me a pair of girl's shoes as she pulled me over to the chair, and started to swap the green ribbon in my hair for a pink one.

“Naturally, there's a really cute shoe over there, guaranteeing that I could only find the one of them, but these will look nice too.”

“What?” I mumbled.

“I told you I'd take you out to grab a bite to eat if we missed dinner.” She said flatly.

“Like, in these?” I asked fearfully, even though I was really trying to sound calm. It honestly sounded more like a squeak.

“Just like this.” She smiled. “Don't worry. We are just going to hit the drive through. “Now you hurry and change, because I'm starved, and I really think that we need to take some time for us to talk.”

“Can't you get into trouble?”

It was her turn to blush. “I'm sure I could if the wrong people found out, but I really don't' think so.” She sighed and sat in a nearby chair. “You know I've been trading E-mails with your folks. They sent their permission to take you off campus if you needed to for Christmas, or just to talk if you thought that would help. You can go out on your own during the day on Saturday and Sunday as long as you carry a cell and we know where you are, so it's not that big a deal to be off campus as long as they know.”

“I was thinking more like a teacher dressing one of her student's up in her clothes.” The backs of my knees found a chair too, as what she'd said began to sink in. “What exactly did you tell them, Miss Lynn?”

She sighed again, and examined her hand pretty closely, before her eyes lifted to lock on mine.

“Not too much really. It's not the first time I've traded E-mails with them. I reminded them that I was one of your teachers. I told them that I thought that they had just an amazing kid on their hands. I told them that you were very smart and polite but that you were also a lonely, and a very, very sad kid.”

She looked down at both her hands then. “I also told them that you were dealing with a completely pissed off teacher, who was beside herself at the idea that a kid your age would spend three Christmases in a row at this school. They left you here that first Christmas too, didn't they? Right after they had dropped you off, and flew to Switzerland? The year before last?”

She was angry, and she was leaving no doubt about it at all. Not too many knew of that. The other kid who had spent that Christmas with me in Mrs. Pierce's home had graduated last year. He didn't really advertise it either.

I nodded.

She already knew this, of course, so her expression only softened a little in sympathy. “My God, Chris, that just sucks.”

“Did you say that to my parents?” I asked, feeling ill.

“I did, Chris. I was polite, but I told them flat out that you were probably more in need of family right now than anyone I know. I told them that I was alone too, and that I planned to spend as much time as I had free in making sure you were okay.”

“You could get into trouble, though, right? I mean this is just your first year?” I was really worried for her. Mrs. Pierce had been here twenty. She regularly told parents off, and could do the same to anyone else, but new teachers didn't do that. Let alone helping in other ways.

“I won't.” She leaned to put her hand on my knee. “I had to tell Mrs. Pierce and the headmaster that you were feeling so down. I had to as a human being, but they are also my bosses, and had every right to know”

I felt so sick again.

“Listen, Chris. We really do care, you know. We may just be teachers, but we see as much of you kids here than any of the parents usually do, and in some cases… one heck of a lot more.”

I understood her point, very well.

“So you see it really is okay. Now, if you want to, you can go in and get changed, and for goodness sakes, don't cry again! That mascara is hardly the best available. I'm a poor teacher after all, and there is a limit to what I can afford.”

It made me smile even as she did.

“I'm sorry I cry so easily.”

“Well, I imagine you do, and that's one of the things we need to talk over, but as far as I'm concerned, it's normal for girls to cry when they have every reason to. Now hurry up, I'm hungry. Besides, I'm sure that getting out of this mausoleum, if only for an hour, will do you a world of good.”

     The walk to the car, even though she had pulled it up to the door behind the theater was a long one. I could feel the coolness of the night on my tights, not cold, just different. I pulled at the hem of the skirt, which was a little too big, so I dared not pull too hard; so I just fiddled with it nervously as I waited for Miss Lynn to lock up the amphitheater.

The cool air woke me up too, and cleared my head, which just made me wonder even more frantically what I was doing. The clothes felt wonderful, and looked as nice as I'd imagined. Even the men's short grey army jacket that Miss Lynn found for me while I was changing looked really cool. However, My mind kept saying that I was not ready for this. Not even Miss Lynn knew that I dreamed this almost every night, but was really scared. I couldn't help reminding myself of it till the cold right seat of Miss Lynn's Toyota hit my bum.

     The drive through food made me realize how good my school dining room was. I was still just as nervous. I pulled my skirt down a little, again, making Miss Lynn smile at me in sympathy for the umpteenth time.

I threw most of the food away, I'm afraid, but then again, so did Miss Lynn. “We'll know not to try this place again.” She'd whispered.

Pulling out, she said. “I have to pop into the mall to replace some things in there. It will only take a minute, but I'd really appreciate it if you would come with me. The store has an exit to the outside and I'd feel a lot better if you came in. No one from the school will be in the store where I buy underwear, I promise you.”

I just knew it was a trap somehow, and I'm sure it showed on my face. I wanted to tell her that it really felt nice but I was still too afraid to say anything I didn't absolutely have to. I tried to take a couple of deep breaths.

“It really will be alright, Chris. You can stay in the car if you like and, if we can't find a place right next to the store and under the lights, I'll take us back to the school. I can get the stuff I need tomorrow if I have to. I just thought you might enjoy a little air.”

She was thoughtful while we drove a little way.

“Do you want me to take you back? I can run into my apartment to get some stuff, and take the makeup off, and you can go straight to your room?”

She was very patient with me.

“No.” I said a little breathy. “I'm sorry, I'm a little nervous but I'm not that nervous. You can stop at the mall.”

She just nodded, and didn't press me further.

“Oh, and Miss Lynn?”

“What is it, Chris?”

“Thank you. This is very nice of you. I know it's a big risk, and I wouldn't want you to do it again, because you could get into trouble, but I do appreciate it. It's something I've always dreamed about. I'll never forget it.”

She looked surprised for a moment and her voice was pretty soft too when she said. “It was my pleasure, Chris. I never imagined a god-awful fast food burger would be so important to you.”

She giggled just as soon as I did.

“So, Chris. Do you feel like talking? Student to Teacher, or Big sister to Little Sister? Your choice. I'm listening either way.”

“I'd like that.” I took a much deeper breath, and sighed it out slowly.

“You go first.” She said and she reached over to pat my hand as she turned to the main road that would take us north of the school, and to the large regional mall sited there.

“You said you'd done something like this for your little brother, Ma'am?”

“I did,” She said thoughtfully and pursed her lips. “I was kind of a geek all through junior high, and high school. Like most big sisters, I had a little brother that I thought must have been grown in a Petri dish.

"He had a lot more problems than you do. He was just about a year younger than you are now and, as you can imagine, I was working on the national geek award.”

I smiled a little, even though I tried not to.

“Laugh if you like, but you know it's true. Anyway about the time I discovered makeup and all things Girlie in my Junior year, I heard this news story about doctors in the UK finding distinct morphological differences in a transgendered person's brain. Well, being who I was, I started looking into it. I read what I could get my hands on at the public library and on the internet which back then was mostly one-person websites with a lot of bad information. None of the sites you could really trust but still interesting.

"It was about that time that I noticed that Tommy had a love of all things girly too.

"We were only about as close as average kids were, I suppose, and I have to say now, that I very much regret every time I ever hurt his feelings. It was easy to do, because he kind of worshiped me at that point, in the most annoying way possible.”

I had to ask. “Was he smart like you?”

She smiled and glanced over at me as she pulled up to the stop-line at a red light.

“No. I'd love to say yes, but I'm pretty sure I was a mutation. No one in my family, least of all my Mum and Dad, understood anything I'd say. Sometimes they'd listen politely for a while before they'd flick the channel with the remote, but no.” She sighed.

“In fact, I think that's in part why Tommy had a lot more problems than you do. He was not in as good a school mind you. He was not so lucky.

"Anyway, I suddenly realized one day, after walking into my room right behind him, what his problem was. He almost fell over looking at my things. I think he was a transvestite. He would get pretty excited over my things at that point, being about fifteen and always on the verge of out of control anyway. I just noticed before anyone else. Hence my experience with buying him his own under things.”

I felt embarrassed, but I'm pretty sure I understood.

“I helped him. I don't think it was enough, but I helped as much as I could, and kept him out of trouble till I went to college.”

“After that?”

She looked really reluctant now. “After that he was more on his own. Mum and Dad didn't understand. He made some mistakes, and got into some trouble, but he's better now. He lives far away in New York with some girl I don't really like, but he is taking care of himself now - finally.”

“It was good of you to help him.” I said. For a few moments there, I'd been afraid that I'd opened up some major hurt for her and, I supposed, I probably had but she was very much an adult and could handle it.

“He was lucky, Chris.” She said, accelerating as far as the next red light. “So what about you. Would you like to tell me what's going on with you? And while you are at it, please God, tell me I haven't gotten this all wrong because of my past experiences.”

She was smiling again.

She sounded so genuine in her worry. It helped to make me feel more like Big Sister, Little Sister. I think that's what made me feel best of all… I think.

“You weren't wrong.” I only whispered, but she heard me over the idle of the engine. If I'd breathed twice before doing so, she probably could not have over the engine as we pulled away yet again.

“Well, why not start with Titanic, Cinderella, Shakespeare in Love, Notting Hill… You and Mrs. Laurie are the only ones in that whole school who check out romantic movies every weekend.”

I smiled. “I know. Halloween week she found Roger's and Hammerstein's Cinderella, and I haven't been able to get it since.”

She smiled again as she finally cleared the last light.

“I don't know, I just like those movies, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Wow, you don't make it easy.” I sighed.

“I don't make it either way, Chris It can be as easy, or hard, as you like. If you are talking to your big sister here, then there is no worry if you get it right or wrong. Just tell me what you want to.”

“Okay. I like those movies because they make me cry.”

“Go on.” She said gently.

“When I watch them I can feel so much. I know what they are feeling. When one of the characters knows how much they want to be loved, and how much they want to be with someone, it's like what I want. They are just stories, but they make me feel a little better for a while. Except for the first time I watched Titanic. That made me feel wretched for a long time, but just the first time I saw it.” I sighed “I suppose that when I watch something that all the other guys like, such as 'Aliens' or 'Predator', I like them too. Especially anything Sci-Fi, but the other movies are different.”

“And what about the magazines, and books?”

“I suppose you don't mean the other science fiction?”

“No.” she smiled in a very reassuring way, before saying: “You little idiot, I'm gonna tell mom if you don't start talking.” she threatened, making me giggle in spite of my fear, while she looked over with a grin.

“I like looking at the girls…” I took a deep breath. “I love their clothes, but it's more. Those girls have the lives that I wish I could have more than anything. They look like they feel pretty, and they look so happy. They get to be models and people help them to look that way every day…”

“That would get old pretty quick for someone as smart as you.”

“Maybe, but it would sure be nice to just try.”

She nodded. We had reached the ramp down to the mall parking lot. Not as many folk as I expected, and we were silent until she found a place close to the store she wanted. A huge high-end department store that monopolized one whole end of the mall.

“You are very pretty. It's easy for you.” I whispered very softly again, so I'm not sure if she even heard that over the sound of the car.

“So you like the girls' clothes too?” she said turning off the car.

“Yes, but that's not the most important part… I don't know, really, but I think it may be how happy they look. It's like they know that someday someone might come along and love them and take care of them, and…”

“Chris, do you know the difference between a transvestite, and someone who is transgendered?”

“Not really. I do know that Transvestites are men who like to wear women's clothes. I suppose like me, if I ever got the chance.”

For several moments I could see her thinking, and was sure that she was going to ask about wearing my mother's clothes or something. I'd only done that once, not long before the incident in the pool. It was one of the things that had kept me up so many nights wondering if it had all been my fault. If she were to ask me about that, I'd probably tell her the whole thing. I already couldn't believe all the things that were coming out of my mouth. I never told anyone any of these things, but I just could not control it, and that scared me more than anything else did right now.

“If this is too personal Chris, I want you to tell me. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Does it excite you to think about wearing women's clothes? Sexy clothes?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” She asked bluntly.

Seems like I actually surprised her for the first time.

“Can you tell me a little, Chris?”

“I'm not sure. It does, a little, but I mostly just love the clothes and the idea of looking nice and even… sexy. Mostly because someone else thinks so. When I dream, I think more about having someone who thinks I look nice would be the nicest thing possible. I'd love to be able to do this with someone I love and who loved me, but mostly I just feel like me. I can't really explain it as much as I feel it in here.”

I didn't know how to go on. Fortunately she did.

“I understand, Chris. I really do. No need to explain further.”

She looked back at the mall doors for several moments in silent contemplation.

“I don't think I can help you as much as I'd like with what I'm about to suggest. For all kinds of reasons I should go to doctor Cross and explain what you've confided, but I won't."

Great, I thought. The school psychologist.

"You have to do that, Chris. I think that one day, very soon, you will have to explain all of this to your Mum and Dad as well. I know they may be M.I.A. now, and I'm having a hard time justifying that, but I've talked to them, and I believe they are basically pretty decent sorts. More importantly though, you need to get it off your chest for your own sake.”

I felt sick, but I could feel my head nodding also. That was all pretty obvious once someone else knew. It made it all seem bigger somehow. Farther from the norm. Like you can't ignore a little secret anymore, because it's not so little, or because it was no longer a secret.

“I know.” I said, finally.

“God, Chris. Please, don't feel so sad. I mean if they want to kill you, which I doubt, they're gonna have to come a long way to do it. I'm pretty sure we have rules to prevent such things at Saint Andrew's either way. In addition, Doctor Cross is a good man, Chris. I'm sure he'll help.”

I felt an almost smile, but I could only watch her now.

“I hope you really do know, Chris. I also want you to go to the library tomorrow, and look up those two words. Transvestite and transsexual. If I need to, I'll authorize special access, but I want you to understand them. It's important. Only you can really tell, but a good doctor can really help a lot, so I don't want you to dare try to freak on me.”

It seemed like a good idea.

“So what do you say? I'd love for you to come with me, but only if you would want to too. I promise I won't let anything happen to you. I know Judo, you'll recall.”

She made me feel a little chuckle again. I looked beyond her to the door as several women walked out, and then a man and a woman walked in. It looked awfully bright inside, but I suddenly felt only one way.

“I'd like to go.”

“Okay, but you need to promise me two things. Smile a little. That army jacket with that skirt looks really cute and stylish, but if you mope through that store, you're going to look like someone on the way to prison or something.”

I smiled.

“Excellent. That brings me to the second assignment. Leave your skirt alone. It looks adorable, especially with that army issue jacket, but it's already as adorable as it's ever going to get - so are you. Okay?”

I smiled and nodded as I deliberately smoothed the front of my… her skirt.

“Super! Let's go, Chrissy.” She teased as she moved us out.

“Actually that skirt looks really cute. It's always been one of my favorites, but it's way too short to wear around school, so actually I'm kind of pissed by how good it looks on you. I now understand why my friends always got so annoyed when their little sisters borrowed their clothes.”

I giggled as I walked to the door, taking every one of my butterflies along with me. I’d have thought at least one or two of them would want to stay behind, but no such luck. My tummy was too much fun apparently. I really wanted to reach out for Amy's hand, but I was afraid to do it. Instead, I just tried to smile just like she’d asked me to.

Just before we went through the door, she put her hand on my shoulder and whispered. “You should know that you look just like one of those girls in the magazines now, so let's just have fun little one.”

Of course I was really smiling, then, when I went through the doors.

     “How does it feel?” she asked.

“Great. A little scary but great.”

“That's not what I mean Chrissy.”

I looked confused.

“I mean, how do you like going into a girls' department, and looking at everything without feeling really, really, embarrassed!”

I giggled, as she took my hand, and headed for the underwear. She quickly picked up the things she needed, while pointing out all kinds of pretty things to me.

“This is more your color.”

“Really?”

“Yup. The rose color would be lovely on you. You have pretty fair skin, but it has some color too. The rose would look very pretty. White's usually best for girls without any tan, but black can be very pretty and practical too. I wear black a lot.”

“Really?”

“Oh, grow up, Chrissy.” We both really giggled.

She moved on to another rack, to look at some more feminine things. I realized that they were garters and cinchers and things I'd only seen in pictures.

On impulse, she pulled one out and held it up to me, making me freeze while trying to look around out of the corners of my eyes, even while I watched her in disbelief.

“Do you know what this is?”

“It's a corset?” I said feeling silly.

“See there. Book learner. That's a bustier. It's similar, but it doesn't have the strength that a corset does. Still, something like this would still help you try the blue dress, if I could ever afford it. Besides, it would have to be kept somewhere other than your room. Pretty hard to explain when the little animals are visiting and the dirty laundry fight breaks out.”

I raised my eyebrows, and nodded in agreement. I mean the guys were mostly pretty decent, but there were limits.

She picked up two packages off yet another table, showing me a full-length slip with a full skirt. It looked very expensive. “Here, we'll get this for you, so if you decide to wear a skirt for practice, at least this will make it work and feel much better.”

“You shouldn't, it's expensive, and I'll probably never…”

“Hush, Chrissy. Mom said you had to mind.” She grinned. “Besides, if Mrs. Pierce gets her way, you may actually need it. Are you ready to go?”

“I suppose.”

“Is there something you'd like to see?” She asked, giving me that look again, as if she was going to start counting the thoughts inside my head.

“Makeup?” I said, hoping not to sound too needy.

She laughed. “Come one.” She dragged me toward a cluster of counters in the center of the floor.

When I was busy looking at the counters, a very pretty blond girl a little younger than Miss Lynn snuck up on me.

“Can I help you, Miss? Were you looking for something in particular?”

She had one of those very pretty faces, with lots of makeup, even though it was all perfectly done. Because of that, and because I was still trying figure out how to respond to the 'Miss' thing, Miss Lynn answered for me before I looked completely brain damaged.

“We are just looking for some Christmas present ideas.”

“We've gotten in a lot of gift sets, in all price ranges. I'd be glad to show you, if you'd like.” She was really pretty, but her tone only told us it was just about an hour till quitting time. She wouldn't be glad at all.

Miss Lynn spoke up again. “No, thank you, Donna. We'll just be looking for a few minutes, but we'll call if we have any questions.”

Donna nodded and walked away holding her hands together in front of her.

“Thanks.” I said, feeling like I needed to catch my breath.

“Don't worry. The teenage girls in shopping malls frighten everyone.”

I began to scan the counters, and looking at colors and such. I was drawn to a lipstick display. I knew they had a lot of colors, and types, but I just couldn't believe they needed so many. I picked one up, when I caught sight of Miss Lynn grinning at me in the mirror on the counter. At first I was confused, when I remembered what she'd said about her girlfriend. I put the lipstick back, and she laughed.

Donna was back.

“That would look nice, but I think that this shade is a little better for what you have on now.” She showed it to me. I couldn't help but glancing back to see Miss Lynn raise her brows slightly, and nod her head in agreement as she too looked at the color.

“Would you like to try it?”

I was too stunned. It became very obvious that Donna was one of those girls who could probably make Bozo's makeup look good, even though she'd probably put too much on him too.

“I'm not sure…” I sounded like a little kid.

“It's nothing.” Donna said, walking around the counter. “I have a few more samples of this one left, so I can use a new one. Christine is an expensive brand, but they are worth it. Hold still, these things are too small…”

Before I could shy away, she had me by my face, and was putting the lipstick on me. I wanted to look at Miss Lynn, but the girl had my chin, and my eyes would only turn so far.

“There. If you'll look, I think that's also very nice for that outfit and your skin.”

I couldn't help but turn immediately at the mirror.

Amy moved up beside me to look in the mirror too, and nodded in clear approval.

“You can keep this little sample, if you like.” Donna said, looking interested for the first time.

I knew I should get away from the mirror, but I couldn't help myself.

“You have kits?” I heard someone whisper, who sounded a lot like me.

Donna was very interested now. “They are in a higher price range. My friends almost never buy their stuff, but they have really nice colors, and they work really well. All except for the foundation. It could cover dents in a car, but it's just too oily for me…”

I kept coming back to the two kits that she had pulled out. The first was the top of the line, and even though I had read everything I could get my hands on, I still had no idea what some of the things were. For near two hundred dollars, it probably had an instruction manual.

“… And of course, along with the colorless powdered foundations I showed you, which are much better for every day, I can also say that some of the new lash building mascaras are something anyone would like.”

Donna too was watching me, and feeling that her night might not be a complete waste, I was sure. I looked back for Miss Lynn, but she had moved for a moment to look at something in a jewelry counter.

“What is that perfume you are wearing?” She asked.

We were over at the perfume counter, when I saw Miss Lynn smiling at me, from across two counters. An older woman, in her thirties I'd say had just come over to ring her up. While Donna sprayed another scent on a small slip of paper, and waved it under my nose. It made me want to close my eyes and swoon. It was perfect.

“Here let me put it on your wrist, and we'll see if it smells as good on. I can't wear it at all, but on the right people… Hummm. Very nice.”

It was. I smelled my wrist carefully, and I couldn't believe how nice it smelled.

“Would you like me to get you a bottle? The small toilet water is only Fifty-two.” Donna asked, trying to close a sale.

I sniffed it again, making the bright lights along the counters seem to spin a little.

“Yes.” I could not help myself. “How much is that bottle. the middle one.”

“That's the cologne, at three ounces it's only a hundred and sixty-five.” Donna said, looking down at me with an odd expression. I don't know why, but I don't think I'd have liked it no matter how I was dressed.

“I'll take both.” I said, mostly because the cologne was just perfect.

“Very good.” She said, her expression still having a feel of disbelief.

“Will that be cash or charge?” She said, with both purple boxes in her hands, as she began to walk toward the counter.

“I have a card.” I said, unable to take my eyes off of her, as I began to fish it out of the little purse along with my ID.

“Will there be anything else?” She said not looking at me as she walked around a display, toward the register.

“Yes.” I felt myself say, even though my cheeks were burning.

Donna turned and looked at me.

“I'd like the makeup you showed me too.”

“Which one?” Donna asked.

“The big one you showed me. And I'll take the foundation and the mascara as well, if you don't mind.”

I knew I wanted it, more than anything, but I just didn't know what had come over me.

At first, Donna hesitated, but then she saw the color of the card in my hand. She moved to get the items, and I watched her pick up a tube of that lipstick as well.

When she came back. I handed her the card.

“Chris!” I heard Miss Lynn gasp right behind me. “What are you doing?”

She startled me, forcing me to look back at her. She did not look happy.

“Are you sure you don't want to look around first. It's only the first week of December, and I think…”

It only took the second time for her to glance at the card, before I realized what had her so upset.

“I'm sorry.” Donna said behind me, “Is this your father's? We can't accept cards from third parties anymore…” She did not look happy. She looked like she wanted to throw the card at me, but instead she looked like she'd slip it into the register.

Oh, man! She'd be so pissed about the sale, she'd probably call security!

I didn't know what else to do, except for what I had intended all along. “Here,” I said, handing her another card from the small stack, which was a pictured ID I had to carry. “The card belongs to me, but it is my father's account.”

I heard several noises behind me that I couldn't identify, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Donna.

“Excuse me a moment.” Donna said, before walking over to the other woman with my card and ID. I couldn't look back, and tried to look as casual as possible, as I looked at the counter. I expected Amy to grab me from behind, but she never did.

They were coming.

“Chris?” The older woman asked, as she walked beside me.

“Yes, Ma'am. That's me.” I said as loudly as I could manage, which wasn't very loud at all.

“I just have to verify this card. I'm sure you realize that. Some years ago, my uncle used to hand me his card, and I'd go shopping wherever I wished. It's a different world now.” She smiled as she swiped the card.
“That's a cute skirt.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled at me, but her eyes were looking from me to Miss Lynn and back. I expected them to drift up to look at the cameras, but they never did.

From behind me. “She's just doing a little shopping…”

I could have sworn I heard “Damn it.” follow by “She,” or a hiss.

The little terminal blinked a little word: 'approved.'

The older woman smiled. “I'm Leslie, by the way"; she reached over the counter as she lay down a slip and a pen in front of me.

I signed.

“Thank you very much, Chris.” Leslie said with smile. I couldn't help but glance over at Donna who was just watching and trying not to stare at me too obviously. “Someone is going to have a nice Christmas. Please remember us if you need anything else. Donna is very good with colors and such, and we very much appreciate your business. We hope you'll come back soon.”

She took something out of the large bag that Donna was packing, and wrapped the cologne in two slips of tissue before putting the small items in a smaller bag on their own.

“Thank you, Ma'am. I will.” my voice sound so strangely normal, as I turned to go, but I was sure my face was almost as pink as some of the lipsticks.

No it wasn't. It wasn't as pale as Miss Lynn's either…

     “I 'm sorry.” I said, as we sat waiting for the arrow to turn out of the mall.

“You said you wouldn't freak out on me, Chris.” I couldn't even define the tone of her voice.

“I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. That girl…”

“Chris, you have nothing to prove to that girl.”

“I wanted the makeup too.”

“I hope it's for a Christmas present, Chris.” that sounded exasperated.

“Are you mad at me, Miss Lynn?” I could feel my eyes filling up. “I know you took a terrible risk, but I…”

She sighed very heavily, which frightened me.

“I'm not mad at you, Chris. I did that with my little brother, and I understand, but you have to be careful. Either one of those two could have caused problems, and you are right, I did take a terrible risk doing this. I could lose my job. I could even be put in jail if someone wanted to be a complete ass.”

I could see her counting to about a thousand.

“Chris. Listen to me, because this is very important. I believe that people should be able to be however it makes them feel best. I really, really do. Nevertheless, that does not alter the fact that you have to be very careful. You can't just do the same things like you've always done, not because it's not unfair, but because you always have to be careful because some other person may be freaked out.”

“I understand.”

“Do you really?” She asked, looking at me.

It was hard, but I looked her in the eye. “I really do. I didn't really think, but I really do understand. I'm sorry.”

“Okay.” She said, slowing to the lights again. It was almost like a dance, this part of the road, and it took her attention away from me for several seconds.

“How much did you spend?”

“Five hundred and sixty-seven.” I told her.

“You see! I keep forgetting you little buggers have more money in your piggy banks than my parents have in their house.” She still didn't look happy, but she didn't say anything else.

“Amy?” I said, deliberately trying to use her first name.

“Yes Chris?”

“I really am, sorry.”

“Don't worry about it.” She gave one of those deeper sighs, and shook her head. “I'm not mad at you. You can stop apologizing. I really do understand. I was sure you’d be a little nuts, but I just didn't realize it would be something so… high profile.”

“Will you get into trouble?”

She thought about that for a long time, which was even scarier than my lack of any kind of control.

“No.” she finally said.

She didn't offer further, and I didn't ask anything more.

It was later now, and in my wing, you could see several of the rooms had a television glow. That would be very unusual on a weekday, but it was more likely on a Friday. Given the season, most of the rooms were dark anyway.

“Here.” she said, handing me the package containing the slip, and a large bottle of makeup remover from her own bag. “You might as well carry these too. Consider the makeup remover my Christmas gift early. It's the one thing you forgot to buy.”

“Sor--”

“Sorry. I know, Chris. If those really are presents, then you can give it back to me.”

She looked at the door to the House. There were only about twenty rooms in my wing. The place looked dark.

“Do you want to come to my office, and I'll help you with the makeup?”

I looked toward where her office was, and there were way more lights there. That didn't mean that there were more people, but there might be someone there. In the wing where my room was, there were mostly single and double rooms, and I was pretty sure that no one was up there. I don't think there was anyone right near my room at all.

“No, Ma'am. I think it's best if I just go up.”

She looked. “I think so too. Would you like me to come?”

I shook my head, and opened the door as I dug in my purse for the cardkey that would open the door on this end of the wing.

I felt the stupidest impulse to scurry for the door, but I made up my mind to walk as normal as possible. The light in the car came on, and I instinctively pulled the door back toward me a little to turn it off and prevent anyone seeing from inside the dorm.

“Miss Lynn?”

“Are you sure you're okay, Chris?” She asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I nodded, I'm sure with my eyes looking like one of those anime Characters. “Thank you, Ma'am. I'll never…”

“I understand Chris. I just hope that everyone else does.”

On an impulse I couldn't believe, I leaned over to kiss her cheek.

She started to laugh, and reached up to click the switch on the courtesy light, before she lightly hit my shoulder.

“Go slow, and be quiet.” She said to me, as I got out with my bags.

“I will.”

I pulled my skirt down all the way to the door I’m afraid, where I paused for only a second before I swiped my cardkey. The green light and the click were immediate. Miss Lynn, I noticed, was still waiting to make sure I got in safely.

'Such a gentlemen', I thought, making myself giggle psychotically for just a moment before the fear of being caught reasserted itself. The psychotic giggles continued inside, only without the actual laughter until I had the feeling of the closed door to my room against my back. That allowed me to take my first deep breath for many minutes.

Across the room, I could see myself in the darkened window. “If you ever do that again, I’m going to need to practice your breathing.” The real giggle released the jumping in my middle.

Even though my legs felt as weak as they ever had, when I realized I was safe, it didn't feel better than when I went into the bathroom to stare into my mirror again.

Looking at the bags, forgotten right in my hand, made me feel odd in a different way. I’d never dreamed I’d actually have them, but here they were. It was a shock, but a nice shock that made me grin.

It felt a heck of a lot better than the makeup remover in my eye, which feels a little like fire before it turns to marching army ants. I thought the big bottle was to remove a lot, but girls probably spill most of it.

It was only ten, when I finished cleaning up, and I was used to being up much later than that on a Friday nights but I just had to lie down. I was feeling so tired suddenly. I just had to lie on my bed for a moment. As I tucked my arm under my cheek, I could smell the perfect perfume on my wrist… The dreams were perfect too.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

Chapter IV

     “Freddie? Are you daft?”

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, even this early on a Monday morning. Freddie Thomas was striding down the hallway outside of the administrative offices, wearing his blazer, a tie, and a long green skirt that was swishing around his ankles like wheat in a prairie wind. He looked like some deranged highlander, who got the kilt thing horribly wrong.

“Chris!” He waved from twenty feet away. “How they hanging? Just the guy I wanted to see.”

At just that moment, Mrs. Pierce stepped out right behind Freddie, calling his name loudly. All I could do was stare at them both, looking from one to the other, and wondering what color the mushroom cloud would be.

“Mr. Thomas.” She began after finally getting his attention. “I'm sure with the caliber of English professors we've provided for your possible edification, that you have been taught “How are they hanging,” is the only acceptable way to phrase such a question. However, you should only do so when the object is both clearly understood, and is a subject that might be raised so loudly in mixed company, such as in the instance of one surgeon speaking to another while discussing a patient, since you seem to need the example.”

“Sorry Mrs. Pierce.” Freddie said, not looking sorry at all. “I did not see you there.”

I wanted to laugh. No one ever saw Mrs. Pierce coming. It was as much a part of the school mythology as the idea that the board of governors who actually ran the place were in fact the least fortunate inmates at a nearby mental hospital.

Mrs. Pierce leaned slightly to one side studying Freddie's skirt, and pursed her lips.

I closed my eyes.

“Not to worry, since in referring mixed company, I was in fact referring to you, Mr. Thomas. Did you ask to borrow the CD from Miss Lynn?”

Now my eyes were wide open.

“Yes, Mrs. Pierce. It's in the theater, and I'll pick it up before lunch.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas, and I do like the green skirt better. You were right.”

“Thank you Mrs. Pier…” She was already gone.

Freddie turned to me, and walked over quickly to put his arm around my shoulders.

“So how ya doing, Chris? They thought you were missing this weekend, till you just showed up like Mrs. Pierce this morning.”

I babbled, to be sure, but I'm pretty sure the noises I made for a few heartbeats couldn't be called talk. “What are you doing?” I asked rather bluntly, finally.

“I assume you are referring to my keenly developed fashion sense? Well you see, I found a way to turn this thing to my advantage. Mrs. Pierce asked if I would please wear this to the practice. I mean, Miss Lynn did ask if you'd wear one too, right?”

I nodded, because my eyes were still roving from the top of his head to the bottoms of his skirt.

“Well, it's simple. The going rate for a tutor here is thirty-five bucks an hour. It's meaningless, since for half of the assholes it would only mean shifting the gold from one vault to another in Zurich.” Freddie was a scholarship kid. “Well three of these guys asked me to help them out outside the lessons where no one could see. So I decided why not? It pays to advertise, and I meet my first client in room sixteen right after Greek History.”

“Why didn't you just wear a sign?” I asked as he began to steer us both toward the languages wing.

“Funny you should ask, Chris. I was going to wear a flower in my hair, but if you think a sign would work better.”

“Would you mind, Freddie.” I asked squirming to get out from under his arm.

“Oh sure man. Sorry, I'm still used to leading. So anyway, I ran it by Mrs. Pierce, and Freddie’s school of trip the light fantastic is in full swing.”

He laughed suddenly. “Get it?”

“I get it. And you have three clients?”

“Three now, but it could have been four. One guy wanted to meet me in the dining room after lunch and have coffee so we could discuss it…”

We looked at each other before he gave me an exaggerated nod.

“… I mean, I'm no prude, usually, but since he asked me I've been bugg'en worse than old man Farthing and his third largest collection of cockroaches outside of the Smithsonian.”

I know I made a face, and I admit it was rude, but I didn't mean to.

“Freddie, Are you pulling my chain? Are you sure?”

“Oh, Yeah! I'm sure. I thought he was going to cry when I told him to look you up.”

“Jesus Freddie, Thanks!”

“Don't mention it! Besides, the way I hear it, you already got yourself a date for the prom.”

“What?!!”

“Tom Anders. The way I hear it, you two looked mighty cute together. You mooning over him and giggling, and him telling everyone how lovely you looked in that sequined ball gown…”

“I was wearing my uniform pants, Freddie. Who…”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder I guess. Besides that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. You can charge them if you like. I've already got my client list. I wanted to ask you what you thought about the rumor?”

“What rumor?”

“Chris? You sleep all weekend, man? Some lucky bastard snuck a girl into the school on Friday Where have you been? Oh! sorry, this is my stop, Chris, Greek, which predates your class in Latin by a few years. Ladies lingerie is in room 22, Chris, right over there with Professor Tam…”

He was gone.

Other than the slight headache left in his wake, there was only confusion. I just made it to my seat before Professor Tam began to speak.

“Well, Gentlemen, Good morning! Can anyone tell me why my disappointment at your woeful progress has flourished into a full-blown clinical depression? No one? Well let me just remind you of what I thought I'd taught so ably in your first year of Latin grammar, that all verbs in Latin have tenses. They are either implied, or are taken on by the verb form, but they all have….”

Someone had a girl in the school. Lucky bastard. Dead, but lucky…

     Freddie had a flower in his hair that looked like an old paper carnation or something. It was hard not watching it, as he looked at his watch to check the time.

“So?” I asked him.

“So what?”

“Freddie, I think you might want to pull the stem of that thing out a little. It's in too deep.” He grinned and patted the flower he'd Scotch taped behind his ear. Probably, after stealing it from a dead guy.

“What are you talking about, girlfriend?” He said in falsetto. “Oh!” He said, looking at this watch again just to piss me off.

“Forget it, Freddie, I should have known better…”

“All right, All right. You need a softer brand of panty man. Anyway, no one seems to know anything. A couple of the guys said that Miss Lynn found a girl on campus Friday night.”

“Friday night?” I had to ask again, hopeless as it was, because it was still getting more confusing every time he spoke. Then it dawned on me that she must have found her right after dropping me off. “Oh, man! She must have caught them after… practice.”

“That's what I figured. All anyone knows for sure, is that two of the guys in the B wing saw Miss Lynn as she was walking the little vixen out to drive her home or something. We assume the staff knows what is going on, but as usual, they won't talk. You feel'n alright?”

I nodded.

“You're free study, right? You want to come along with me rather than going to the library?”

I shook my head, and he was long gone before I began to move toward my room. I just felt so ill all of a sudden.

Another kid, standing in a group just outside the library, asked me where I was going, so I told him I was headed to my room, because I was feeling ill. I know I was holding my arms around my stomach.

“Maybe you got your period, man. I think Willis got his the day they drafted him…”

“… Yeah, maybe you can get a tampon from him… you know, if you're out.” Another kid suggested, before they fell apart.

I could only look at them as I passed, and I guess I didn't look good.

“Hey Chris. You feeling alright? We were just kidding. You want to see the nurse?”

“I'll be okay. I think I had a bad turkey sausage this morning or something.”

“I'm sorry, man. You sure?”

I nodded. “Funny stuff, though. I'm okay,” I said as I finally got past them.

I sat down gingerly on my bed. What I didn't understand was, why Miss Lynn would not say anything. Surely she'd heard the rumor by now. Teachers always heard everything, and she was almost as bad as Mrs. Pierce. It just didn't make any sense. I hadn't even seen her all day. Assuming that there still was a Miss Lynn ...

I was glad my parents had gotten me a private bathroom. They thought it was easier on me being so small and so new. Just then, I was just glad it was closer.

     I missed the only other class I had that morning, but I didn't really care. I'd composed myself better, but I was sure I didn't look very good, so kids mostly just left me to myself. Some of the talk that afternoon had to do with the three of us having to wear skirts that night. Most of the rest had to do with the orgy of cheerleaders from the local college, who had to be removed by the police for trespassing, lewd behavior, and various improbable perverse acts of inhuman sexuality.

Neither discussion helped my stomach. Dinner didn't either, and I turned my tray in untouched. I don't think I breathed until I timidly crept into the theater that evening, and walked toward the stage. I was half way there, when Miss Lynn walked in the door behind me.

“Chris, there you are. I've taken the liberty of picking out… My god, Chris. Are you feeling okay?”

I could only shake my head. I didn't know if I were going to be sick again or cry because I'd been so afraid she wouldn't show.

“I see you've heard.”

I didn't have to nod.

“Come on, We have to talk…” She said taking me by the shoulder, and steering me toward the stage and the dressing room.

We'd only just made it as far as the stage, when Freddie came jogging in.

“Miss Lynn! Hey, Ginger. I'm sorry Ma'am, but Mrs. Pierce said I was going to have the nicest green burial shroud if I didn't have that CD in the player by the time the assembly was to start. I looked for it but I couldn't find it. Did you give it to someone else? That burial shroud thing sounded pretty final.”

Miss Lynn looked at me helplessly.

Wordlessly, I took the bundle of long skirts she had over her arm, and the packaged slip from the mall, and turned toward the dressing rooms while they went off in search for the holy CD of Antioch. I assume on the part of Miss Lynn, it was so that we could then have the privacy to talk as soon as possible.

I changed first into the things that I'd bought with me, before putting on the slip and the skirt. I'd made sure to bring the tights so that I could find the shoes to lift the skirt off the floor, and I did so easily enough. I was ready for her well before they stopped looking, no doubt aided by the practice I'd had all weekend. Thus, I was distracted only by the swirl of the skirts around my lower half as I moved about, while waiting for Miss Lynn and Freddie to find the CD that had been in the player all along.

Unfortunately, by the time he went running up the center aisle, skirt swirling like one Miss Scarlet O'Hara, sure enough, some of the newly enthused members of our group had already begun to arrive.

Miss Lynn was beside me again as we watched them come, and whispering. “That one looks nice, Chris. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I had to think about it only because my stomach hurt, but when I looked at her, I told her that I could.

“I'll be alright, Miss Lynn. I think I got some leftover turkey paddies from Thanksgiving this morning. I wish they'd go back to the devil's own pork.” I shrugged.

“I'll bet.” She muttered. “We'll talk after… Okay, you guys move the table out, and line up. We want to get through a couple of things before we all get together.”

“Hey, Chris. Nice dress.”

“Louie that's a skirt, dude.”

“Yeah, but I was trying to skirt the issue.”

Miss Lynn had a lot of patience “Guys! Just get the table before I tell Mrs. Pierce how badly you need comedy lessons too.”

Three guys lined up around the table that I could easily have moved myself with one finger. “Now, gentlemen," Louie said. "Just like we've practiced. All together now… And a... One, Two, Three. One Two three...”

Poor Miss Lynn. I was still too ill to care. “I hope you guys do better than that at the dance, or the tables there are in real trouble. Now, are there any questions that you need to…”

Later, with the whole group together, we had mostly just to sit and listen. It didn't matter that it was all the stuff we'd already gone over, but Freddie and Mrs. Pierce did demonstrate some greetings, before she called my name asking me to choose a partner to demonstrate a few of the waltz steps.

It was almost a relief, because the greetings they wanted us to use just sounded like a sneaky form of contraception they were trying to trick us into. ‘I beg your pardon miss, but would you allow me to inform you that I’m a terminal virgin, and may I escort you to the middle of the dance floor, so that everyone can see you laugh at me properly… properly laughing at me?' I’d stick with my ‘Ewe you almost as pur’dy as my cus’un Bobby Sue’ line. Lower virginity potential.

I stood up okay, but when I turned around I could only stare at the mass of grinning faces, and I guess I froze.

“Excuse me, Miss Morgan. I know we've not been formally introduced, but if I may impose, that is to say, may I have this dance?”

Tom Anders was somehow already behind me, grinning just like all the rest, but unlike them, he was holding out his hand in a most gentlemanly style. My weak smile and sigh of relief nearly got me the female lead in the Spring play, but only because they thought I was acting. For reasons known only to the fates, I dropped a much more graceful curtsey than Mrs. Pierce had been able to produce, and replied in my best Southern Belle: “Why Captain Anders. I would be so delighted…”

It took a while to get everyone settled after that, but after we demonstrated things a couple of times, Tom and I, I didn't need to listen anymore, except for the announcements at the end. The girls' school was sending over several of their own teachers to view our preparations sometime the next day. They also reminded us that there was an honest to 'God' college scout coming to look at two of our soccer players tomorrow, Tom being the majority interest, he was so good.

Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Laurie grabbed Miss Lynn right after the class, of course. I saw her mouth that she was sorry, but it only made me want to cry.

I had to get out of there, so I grabbed my pile of skirts and things, and began my close examination of the floor between the gymnasium and my bed.

“Chris?” I felt Tom's hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? Your face was looking about as green as Freddie's skirt there.”

Looking up at him made me feel worse, so even though it probably did nothing to convince him, I told his feet the breakfast story.

One of the others butted in before I could even finish that. “Aaawww. Go on Chris, You can kiss him goodnight. This is, what… like your third date or something?”

Tom pushed past me, trying to get to him in the crowd, but I don't think he did. He was laughing too hard.

Back in my room, I hung the skirts as best I could on my closet door, and sat down in front of my computer. I was going to write a note to my mother and father, begging them to let me come home. If they would put a call into the headmaster, he could give me my passport in an hour, and I could be on a plane tomorrow morning.

I couldn't do it. Going whining to them was no better than riding it out here, I supposed, but I'd sure rather be with them right now.

I opened the drawer to my desk, and took out the mascara again from where I'd been playing with it over the weekend. I also picked up the toilet water too, which I sprayed on myself. Then looking at my small mirror, began to carefully apply the mascara on my lashes, letting it dry a little, before applying another coat.

They were right in that article, which suggested a girl should always wear mascara, even if she wore nothing else.

I was still sitting there, and on my third coat, when my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Chris?”

For an instant, I thought it was my mother.

“Mmm. Mmm…”

“Chris, It's me, Miss Lynn. I'm so sorry Chris. It's a little late now, but I promise you we can talk tomorrow. I have plans to meet someone this evening in town and I can't break them. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. I'm fine”

“You didn't look fine. Can you tell me what's going on?”

“Did you hear the rumor?”

“About the girl I drove home?”

“No, Ma'am, the one about the new regulations for lobster fisherman.”

“Chris!” I heard her gasp.

“I'm sorry, Miss Lynn. I haven't been feeling well.”

“Chris, you are not yourself. What are you doing, perhaps I should call the nurse?”

“I was trying on the mascara again.”

“That explains not getting the makeup remover back. Chris, it really is too late for me to come over to talk, unless you are sick. Tell me honestly, please, are you okay, or do I need to bring the nurse?”

“I'm okay.”

“Well, if you are, then I want you to go to bed, and I'll find you in the morning. It shouldn't be hard.” A soft chuckle came from the phone.

“Ma'am?”

“Chris, weren't you even listening? Are you sure you don't need me to come?”

“No, Ma'am. I'm fine, really.”

“Well, remember that Mrs. Pierce had no idea what time the delegation from Saint Mary's will be here, so she asked if her three ladies could just follow Freddie's lead, and be ready when she calls. She wanted you guys to wear the skirts.”

“I will.”

“Well, don't worry about it. Freddie was running up the hall singing 'Where the Boys Are', tonight. I think he made about two hundred-dollars today. He's making double what I do. We may never get him out of that thing. No one will notice you at all, unless you set your hair on fire.”

“Thank you, Ma'am”

“Good night, Chris.”

“Night, Miss Lynn.”

I stretched out without even taking anything off, except my shoes. The lovely smell of my cologne filled my head the moment I closed my eyes. That night, the dreams were not as pretty as the night's before, because several times I dreamed I was being chased endlessly around the halls of the school by Mrs. Pierce, the Headmaster, Freddie, and even Miss Lynn.

All of them kept shouting the oddest thing at me. “There she is! There she is!”

     I woke the next morning, well before my alarm went off.

It was early enough that the grey light of the dawn still had more in common with a cold fog hugging the ground, than with the brighter light that would shine later in the day.

I felt rested, and my mind felt very still and quiet, so I just lay there for several minutes, trying to invent a reason to get up.

The dreams were still fresh in my mind from having been awakened by them several times that night. They had been so odd, with their composition of endless hallways, each odd or strange, and at the same time completely familiar. There were other queer little hallways jumping from one part of the campus to another that looked as if they belonged but which, of course, never could have and which, in the dream, were always just sufficient in number to keep me ahead of the hue and cry.

I snorted softly as I whispered “hutesium et clamor” Professor Tam would be proud, I thought, as I looked at the clock. I now dreamed in Latin.

Half past six.

Sitting up, I pulled my skirt from under my legs, and stood to walk to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. It was the eyes, of course. I'd done a little damage to the mascara, but all in all, they were remarkably intact; which along with the fact that I felt so wide-awake, meant that I'd actually slept sounder than the dreams would indicate.

Looking more closely, I realized why the eyes looked so familiar to me. I'd seen them looking like this in my dreams more times than I could count. I'd just never seen them this close before. Now they were right in front of me, right there in the mirror.

Perhaps a bath. I love very hot baths. I love to just sit and relax, and let my mind go. Sometimes I don't think about anything at all in steaming water, so it was some time before I reached for the soap, and began to wash by holding my face in the hot cloth…

I took the pink panties off the shower rod, and slipped them on before pulling on the tights. I only had the three pairs, so I'd had to wash them on Sunday. The long slip was next, which turned out to be very pretty with decorative stitching around the bodice; above the full shiny slip it looked like a dress all by itself, and it was much heavier than the one with the elastic waist.

Moving to my closet door, I chose the long black skirt because it was on top, and tried to slip into it before I realized that I had to drop it over the slip. The waist was a little loose, but tugging down on it proved that it wouldn't slip beyond my hips, so it must have been the silky material that made it feel that way.

I began putting on one of my white uniform oxford shirts, while catching little glimpses of the long mirror that lay mostly hidden under the bundle of skirts. I lifted them out of the way, a little, before I just moved their hanger to the front side of the door so that I could look again.

I looked for a long time, and the more I did, the more my stomach began to feel like it had the night before. It looked like a pile of dirty laundry waiting for the wash.

The eyes were all wrong too.

Some months before, I'd read another in the endless string of articles printed out from ‘Seventeen’ or ‘Cosmo girl.’ I'd seen the same advice before, but this one said that, even if your school dress code didn't allow visible makeup, a girl should always wear a smudge-proof mascara. I remembered it well, because of how the article went on about how cute, and fresh you could look without it's being too obvious why.

The pink blouse and short grey skirt were still hanging right there in the closet in front of me, only inches away.

Pulling off the shirt and hanging it on the knob, I reached for the blouse. I had trouble getting the little button at the top of the blouse. My fingers were not working very well. Although, finally, I was able to take a deep breath and steady them, and the blouse was soon slipping up my arm. I had to look down to fix the buttons because they felt strange somehow.

Stepping back, my eyes rose once more to the long mirror. The sickness was fading, but the butterflies were back. I wasn't sure about the color being so much brighter. They looked nice together, to me, but I just didn't know. I really didn't want to look foolish.

I watched as I tucked the blouse in, but quickly decided that the straight bottom of the blouse looked much better on top of the skirt, but it needed…

Hanging in the closet were several black belts, but being small myself, not to mention being a boy, all of them were too small too. There were dress belts that were just wrong, and several casual belts. My widest was well worn, and a brown color. I remembered also two woven black belts for jeans that had come on some pants that had been bought for me to 'knock around in' and, on impulse, I pulled the black one out and wrapped it around the blouse above my waist.

The blouse looked much better now, but the belt was still too small. Then, inspired, I pulled the second woven belt out even though I realized it was actually a very dark brown. I hooked it into the tail of the first to make one long belt and looped it loosely above the other.

“There.” I said, looking between the belts, and my face in the long mirror. It was only the matter of a moment to pull the buckles closer together, and pull the free tail through to hang down. The contrasting colors actually looked nice, and gave texture.

In another inspiration, I went to the small letterbox I kept in my desk drawer, and pulled out one of my most priceless possessions, the small heart locket that had been my mother's. It had a picture of she and dad when she was very pregnant with me. She'd taken it off her own neck to slip it on me when they first dropped me off here, but I had to push those thoughts away quickly as I padded back to the mirror.

Just so. Even better. Perfect.

The little glint of gold, closely matched the brassy color of the buckles below. Finally, beneath where the blouse had hung, the pink ribbon lay over the waist of the short grey skirt still hanging in the closet. Slipping it free, I moved toward the bathroom mirror, and the brush.

Brushing my hair to look more like it had on Friday turned out to be much easier than I'd imagined with the aid of a little water in the front. Tying the bow was much harder but I'd finally gotten it to look even.

Walking out toward my desk I could see that it was seven fifty and breakfast was being served for any who wanted it but I didn't feel up to going just then. I knew that the cooks were very good to those who missed breakfast, and always had some fruit, or toast, or bagel handy for a starving kid. If need be, I'd swing in there later.

I had Western at nine, so I pulled that book from the stack, to slip out the paper I'd done on Saturday. After looking it over for fifteen minutes, I realized that the only thing that I'd accomplished was to draw a little heart shape just like the locket above the 'i' in Chris. If anyone had found out anything new about William the Conqueror over the weekend, they'd just have to catch me up on it later in the week.

The locket was warm now, in my hand, not at all like the cold metal had felt lying in the box. “I miss you, guys. So much.” I whispered, knowing they couldn't hear.

Try as I might, I just couldn't push the feelings away this time. I did miss them. Had they been on the same continent, I'd have been very tempted to grab my card and head for them, but they had always expected me to be strong. I needed to be strong, especially now, my father had said so to me many times.

What stupid advice to give a kid, I thought as my eyes blurred over completely. Kids don't' need to be strong. They need a family.

The washcloth was there, and fortunately my eyes were only a little red. No one would notice. Even though most of the cosmetics were still in the package they'd come in, the tube of lipstick was sitting there with the clear face powder.

A small voice inside said 'what are you doing?' but I ignored it as I padded over to the desk to get the mascara. By then, my mind was very quiet again as I watched my lashes darken and grow longer in the mirror. The colorless face powder looked very nice too, even though I'd been too unsure to use more than the tiniest bit on my forehead nose and cheeks.

In the package, there was also a pale pink gloss, almost colorless, but I really liked the smell of it, as I covered the dullness, where the powder had gotten on my lips.

I looked for a long time, before I said 'There' to the mirror, and walked out to slip on the shoes that I'd worn on Friday, and to collect my books from the desk.

The knob of the door felt even colder than the locket had, I noticed, but I was only going to hold that for the shortest of times. I picked up the little black wallet, where it hung by its strap, the one that still had all my things, and slipped my calculator and some pens and other things into it as well, before slipping it over my shoulder. I'd almost taken the cell phone too, so that I could try to reach Dad around our noon, or his quitting time there, but again I decided not to without any real reason.

The thunderous bang of the door swinging closed behind me was, I was sure, loud enough to have woken any of the dead who might have been lucky enough to be able to sleep so late on a Tuesday. Although no one slept late on Tuesdays at Saint Andrews, even the dead.

I took very deep breath, and then another, as I steadily built my momentum toward the stairs…

     “What, the…”

“Man! There's another one!"

"Do you think it's dangerous?” Smitty asked, at the bottom of the stairs.

“I don't think so, because Mr. Tingsdale said they only attack if they smell money in the water.”

“Are you sure? It doesn't look very safe to me.”

“Well you stay here then. I'm going to ask her if she tutors like Freddie.”

“Are you nuts?”

“Am I? Who would you rather dance with? Freddie?”

“Hey Chris! Wait up a minute!”

Then…

“I think it’s someone's sister… Holy crap! Chris?”

As I came round the corner to into the main hallway, I could see Tom standing outside the Admin area. It looked like he was coming out of the conference room with a tall thin man in a suit, and slightly smaller man with very grey hair, and a collar.

Poor Tom looked like he wanted to make a run for it. These must be the college scouts from down south. It looked bad, but what was really scary was Mrs. Pierce, who had her back turned to them where she stood fussing with a bulletin board. Only, from the look on her face, she was not fussing with the bulletin board at all, and was listening as the man in the suit continued to talk to Tom.

“… We have other advantages too, son. You won't find a better place anywhere for providing the strong moral direction that every young person needs to be successful…”

I thought Mrs. Pierce looked like she'd just swallowed her tongue. I'd seen her mad, but I never saw her look like she'd swallowed her tongue. I instinctively moved toward the far wall, mistakenly thinking I might hide, but despite my slowness, Tom’s eyes flicked towards me.

Mrs. Pierce was smiling when she turned to greet the men, which scared me so bad, I stopped dead in my tracks in preparation of pressing my back to the wall.

“Ah! There you are gentlemen.” She said cheerfully. “I trust you enjoyed meeting Mr. Anders. I hope you all enjoyed a little talk.”

Grey hair started to speak. “Well not so much really. Despite the fact that I've told this fine young man that our student population is better than three-quarters female…” He smiled, but Mrs. Pierce did not, which made him back pedal damned quick. “Aaah. And also that we feel the Southern Baptist Bible College is the finest place for a young man such as Tom to develop the kind of moral fi…”

The man in the suit saw her face too, because he broke in “Aaah, and when Tom here told us he wanted to go on to be an evolutionary biologist, I explained that the lectures on creationism and intelligent design in our biology department have been used to train speakers from all ov…”

Someone screamed inside my head: 'Jesus Christ on a pogo stick!'

My back was not even fully against the wall, before I saw Mrs. Pierce interrupt an adult for the first time… ever. I only wish someone else had been there to see it, but hall had already cleared faster than the main street at noon in Tombstone Arizona.

Mrs. Pierce made the same sound a glacier does, just before it starts popping and cracking to calve… “And how exquisitely compelling that must have been for him too, gentlemen.” The sound of a million metric tonnes of ice falling toward them froze both men's feet solidly in place, leaving them to bob helplessly in the frigid ventilator's downdraft like a pair of errant Macy's Day parade balloons caught on a lamppost.

“I can't tell you how disappointed our board of governors will be to hear that. We've never had an alumnus of Saint Andrews school attend the Southern Baptist Bible College, as we informed you in our letters. Perhaps, we'll be more fortunate next year?”

The Collar began to puff up visibly before I could scream for him to get away, but it was just too late. Mindless suicide.

“We'd hoped you'd help us explain that our university provides a moral footing for all our students…”

“So. I. Heard.” The cracking and popping were thunderous in the surrounding pristine silence.

Mrs. Pierce was no longer smiling, and Tom looked like a man realizing he suddenly wanted to edge closer to the window, but who had also just found his feet were stuck fast to the floor as well. His eyes were bulging, and I wanted to help him, but I was stuck to the wall like one of Professor Farthing's countless cockroaches.

Mrs. Pierce took two deep breaths, before the muscles along her jaw relaxed enough for her to speak.

Too late for them to run for their lives. It looked like it would be quite a splash!

“Perhaps it might be beneficial for you gentlemen if I were to explain to you that the schools to which most of our students graduate are those that they themselves choose to further their life's interests and future careers.

"We have been very successful in this, as counted amongst our various graduating classes over the last hundred and eighteen years, have been several Nobel laureates, literally hundreds of eminently successful doctors and lawyers, and captains of any industry you might care to name. Most of whom were first accepted quite readily at schools whose standards rank amongst the highest in the world. Many of these institutions of advanced learning will not even consider an application without a proven track record of steady academic excellence, and an least two SAT scores of fifteen-hundred and fifty, or better.

"I can also assure you, that each and every one of these schools gives very special consideration to any student benefiting from our preparatory programs.

"Now, if I recall correctly, your standards for admission are six-fifty to seven hundred?”

The Suit sounded a little hoarse. “Well… we feel that the broader mix of all students, irregardless…”

“I. Am. Sure. You. Do. Doctor Embry. However, amongst the hundreds of captains of industry, and countless other notable alumni we have graduated from this institution, there have always been those few who preferred to direct their lives toward less notable careers than say, Secretaries and Ministers of our governments, or Presidents of these United States. Some write Broadway plays, or administer foundations that help the less fortunate. We always encourage students to find their own paths to contribute to this world in the way they feel most useful.”

Her smile was more that of a hungry lioness tasting the air through her teeth now. It wouldn't be long… or take long.

Please make me invisible. Please make me invisible…

“Re-gard-less… of their widely diverse preferences, Doctor Embry and Reverend Watts, the one area that has never given me a moment’s pause, about any of our young men, was the consideration of their moral character.

"Our students have not only been the contributors to improvements in the human condition over the past hundred and eighteen years, without regard to the fields they chose from medicine to food production, but during the more unfortunate years that this country has been at war, we have graduated more students who have gone on to serve with great distinction in our armed services than any other preparatory school our size.

"In fact, during the years of forty to forty-five, I recall, the only other schools in this entire nation that could claim of its graduates to have won more awards for personal valor and heroism were your own Citadel, and the Virginia military institute. I can assure you, however, that our boys lacked nothing in the quality of those awards, and in numbers they were only a handful behind the gallant men from those much larger schools.

"So you see, Gentlemen, you don't need to worry yourselves about the moral development of any student here. Or if you do, I suggest you might find it more than instructive if you were make yourself an appointment with either our current Supreme Court's Chief Justice, or the current President of the United States Senate, as I'm sure that either of those distinguished alumni will have a unique perspective regarding your concerns.”

“… I did not mean to imply…” The Suit, I believe Embry, started the rally, only to be tagged by Watts The Collar:

“Mrs. Pierce. Our organization is affiliated with over seven hundred Baptist ministries from all over this country, representing tens of thousands…”

I could see them turning to salt pillars right there on the barren wind swept shores of the main office. My eyes. Take my eyes. Please… I couldn't look away. They just didn't know that it would be better to try and punch Miss Lynn than to fence mindlessly with Mrs. Pierce. Doctors can sew limbs back on.

“Seven Hundred.” Mrs. Pierce said. “Seven Hundred?" She asked.

The fool actually nodded.

She raised her voice to call down the hall. “Mr. Walton? Are you still there around the corner?”

“Oh,uh, Yes Ma'am. I'm right here, Ma'am.”

“Have you ever told a lie?”

“Aaah. Not to you, Ma'am.”

“I believe you, Mr. Walton.”

She actually smiled at him, but it was like a whole different species of smile. It kind of glowed…

“How many independent business units are there in your family business now, Mr. Walton?”

“Ah Hum. I'm really not sure Ma'am, but I think if you count the ones in China and South and Central America… Europe… Ma'am I'd guess a little over five thousand under the family name, but there's lots more if you count other named stores.”

“Five thousand?” She sought confirmation.

“Yes Ma'am”

“And how many people do they employ, including Christians, Muslims, and Buddhists?”

“Ma'am?”

“How many employees, Mr. Walton?”

“I don't think anyone knows, Ma'am. Millions. That's why I want to be a neurosurgeon Ma'am.”

“Millions?” She asked.

Sam tried to back away now, perhaps feeling a draft at his back that somehow indicated a way out to him. “Yes Ma'am. I'm sorry to have bothered…”

“That's all right, Mr. Walton. I expected to see you today. Your application to Harvard University did come in. I've given it to Doctor Farthing, Sam, because he's an Alumnus, and he'll be writing your recommendation. When he gives it back with his letter we'll go over it together.”

She smiled that kindly smile again, at Sam.

“Thank you, Ma'am” Sam said, now doing the backstroke at a near record pace.

"Thank you, Sam." She replied, the kindness of her smile growing even greater, if that were possible.

A smile which once more morphed itself into something predatory and inhuman in the short time it took for her eyes to flick back to them…

… And in the eyes of the Lord, as he beheld them flopping there helplessly, they were much deflated… so sayeth the Second book of Pierce, Chronicle Three, in The Epistle to the Idiots.

“Chris.” Tom gurgled or choked, I'm not sure which, but I understood him. Of course, it was only because my eyes were already fixed by the horror on his face when his lips moved, and from that I somehow knew he called my name.

Tom cleared his throat, and said it again, the ass. “Chris. I'd like you meet Doctor Embry, the head of athletics at the Baptist Bible College, and their pastor, Reverend Doctor Watts…”

I got it. His Excellency, President for life, Field Marshal, El Hadji, Doctor, Idi Amin Dada. Most impressive.

On the other hand, Tom had saved my bacon only yesterday so, somehow, I found the courage to smile from within the rising tide of terror and discomfort that flowed from his eyes. I wanted to hit him in the face with my book.

My feet were able to slide but wouldn't lift from the floor as I was drawn in closer to hold out my hand which, because of my nearness to unconscious oblivion, was held out palm down due to the lack of muscular strength and coordination that it would have taken to turn it sideways.

“Gentlemen.” Tom said, “Chris Morgan. His family owns Morgan International Limited.”

“How do you do, Miss.” Suit said, taking my hand gently, rubbing my fingers, as in a dish detergent commercial.

“Sir. Reverend.” I said to each in turn, with a small bob of my head and body that just snuck up on me from somewhere.

Collar Watts said, “I was under the impression that this was an all girls' … I mean an all boys’ school.”

“It is.” Mrs. Pierce said but I swear her eyes never even flicked toward me. I did not even think she really knew I was there. “Mr. Morgan has been a student here for two and a half years and we are all quite proud of the record of his achievements thus far.”

They were both looking at me now, as if my hair-ribbon was lighted up and spinning at trans-sonic speeds.

“Yes.” Tom said, clearly still in a mindless panic. “Chris and I were roommates for his first two years.”

Mrs. Pierce’s eyes only narrowed and slid about halfway from The Collar to Tom, but I'd seen it. Even if that wasn't enough to give it away, I definitely saw the muscles along her jaw bunch up again.

You poor dumb bastard, I thought. You poor dumb bastard. All you had to do was to keep your mouth shut, man. Now telling a lie, right in front of her, after that speech… Enjoy the lecture pal. Pierce, forgive him, he knows not what he does.

The last kid who'd done that, they had to bury. Twice! I swear, her eyes never moved again. Never. Even as she spoke of me once more.

“Mr. Morgan has been kind enough to complement our own staff in giving lessons in ballroom dancing and deportment to some of our students. You look perfectly lovely today, Chris.” She said, the timbre of her voice fixed on even.

She wasn’t even blinking!

“Thank you, Ma'am”

I'm not sure who's blush would reach our ears first, but neither I nor the other pair could turn our eyes from looking back and forth at each other, and it was a very close race: Mine, The Suit's, or the good Reverend Field Marshal Doctor Watts. It was anybody’s race.

But then, Mrs. Pierce, in an unexpected stroke of humanity, which she had been known to use from time to time to deny those prey whom she hunted purely for sport any sense of balance, waved the checkered flag early.

“Tom, why don't you take these gentlemen to see Colonel Atkinson. Forgive me, you know him as Coach Atkinson or Doctor Atkinson, the head of our intramural sports programs here. I am sure he is very anxious to see them.”

“Yes Ma'am.” Tom said to her, before he spoke to me again. “Chris, will you save the first dance for me tonight?”

We have a winner! Even with their vast advantage in years and experience, I'm quite sure that neither of those men had ever reached my current level of neon before. Fortunately, and what I did not know, was the face powder was hiding most of it.

“My pleasure, Tom.” I said, as my autonomic nervous system did that stupid curtsey thing again.

“Ma'am…”

Oh God, she was smiling the human smile and looking right at me! She'd seen me... Wait a minute. She loved it. This one she loved?

“…If you'll excuse…” I was inching my way through the ice shards as quickly as I politely could.

“Of course, Chris. If Doctor Thompson has any problems, you may tell him you were helping me.”

“Thank you, Ma'am.” I said turning to go. I realized that the bell must have rung, but at the time I'd thought that ringing sound had been inside my head.

“And Chris…”

“Yes Ma'am?”

“You smell every bit as lovely as you look.”

“Thank You, Ma…” I said turning.

I had turned quickly, for fear of rudely leaving my back to her while I expressed my genuine appreciation, but she was already gone, leaving only a few notices drifting down from the bulletin board, and the startled visitors. Unfortunate for them to have witnessed her powers so closely. Their bobbing and weaving, an almost shell shocked stagger, already bode that Tom was probably going to have to hold their hands to even get them through the doors successfully.

     I was almost to Doctor Hammond's door, when I saw Freddie coming down the hall toward me in the same skirt, and the same flower in his hair, but from which was hanging a small pink pennant ribbon that said “Love for Sale.”

Jesus. And people thought I'd freaked.

“Hey, You cutting on my shtick, Sweetheart?” He asked me from well down the hall.

Just then, another kid, accompanied by three friends, came running up and knelt in front of Freddie, holding up some plastic flowers and the pop-top off of a can.

Freddie didn't smile either.

“Mack, I told you already. You pay just like everyone else, but cash only this time. No credit. If you ask me again, I will start charging you a hundred per hour, plus twenty for the room. What kind of a girl do you think I am? I may be easy, but I'm not cheap.

"Now! Chris? Chris?”

     I didn't even look back at Freddie as I slipped silently through the door to Doctor Hammond's classroom.

Fortunately he had his back turned while he adjusted a window blind, allowing me to glide quickly but silently toward my chair.

“… and many of you failed to grasp… Good Afternoon, Mister Morgan… the significance of Norman technical innovations …”

He froze as soon as he began to turn. He'd caught me just as I carefully reached back for some of the excess material on my skirt, and delicately began to slip into my seat…

“Mister Morgan.” He said again, as if memorizing my name for the very first time.

I stood quickly, letting my skirt fall free. “Please excuse me, Professor. Good Morning, Sir. My tardiness was rude, and I apologize, but I was unavoidably detained while… entertaining two of the school's guests with Mrs. Pierce.”

I slowly gathered my skirt again, and slipped into my seat as gracefully as possible. Quite a feat for someone who had not breathed since entering the room.

His eyes measured me from my head to my feet, and back again.

“Entertaining? Indeed. It would seem that our entertainments have improved of late. I was not aware.”

The connotation, partially signaled by the semaphore of his brows, had sent my blush into the far infrared, but I only nodded politely. No matter what else happened, I was going back to my room for the small facial powder compact as soon as the bell sounded.

Still without any air in my lungs at all, I groaned “I was very much looking forward to your explanations of the Norman invention of the stirrup, Sir.”

“I see.” He still stared at me.

“… The technologies that the Normans brought with them played a pivotal roll that is only now coming to light, but given the state of the military art at that…”

It was so much more than weird. For the rest of that hour no matter what he said, or read. No matter where he moved in the room, or to whomever else he might have been speaking at any given moment, his black beady eyes never left my face. Even when he turned his back to write on the board, I could see them staring back at me from inside his head. It was like some demented hologram hung in a portrait gallery with the sole purpose to separate out those poor souls most genetically predisposed to hysterical psychoses.

It worked, too. They had to shake me well after the bell had sounded.

     There had been a compact in the bag with the box of face powder I'd purchased. I'd found it along with about a dozen complementary gifts that the girls at the mall had shoveled into my bags. Sponges, emery boards, a little chain with some kind of crystal, wrapped around some nail polish of the same color.

But it was the retrieving of the compact, along with the mistake I'd made wandering into the lunchroom, that had almost made me late for Professor Otto's Math class too.

The ladies in the dining room, on seeing my flush, and how close I was to fainting, had insisted I sit and have juice and a whole half bagel before they would let me up. They even brought me an egg, which I had to eat at least part of very quickly while explaining my outfit to the accompaniment of their approving chorus of the 'Ooos' and 'Aaahs.'

I had just made it to math under the bell, and was walking to my seat while trying to return as many stares as possible with the students already there, when Professor Otto startled me badly by saying “Here.” right in my ear.

In his hand was a note card, on which I read. 'Please, ask Mr. Morgan to report to the Headmaster's office immediately. M.P.”

It wasn't that I was the only one in a skirt anymore. It was more that I was the only one not looking at my back as I quietly walked out of the room.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

Chapter V

     “Doctor Pope?” The admin said, pressing the intercom button on her phone.

“Yes, Miss Lindsay?”

“Miss, I mean, err… Sorry sir. Mister Morgan is here.”

The door to the head master's office opened less than a second later, and before any other sound came from the phone on Miss Lindsay's desk. Mrs. Pierce popped her head out of the headmaster's door.

“Chris. Thank you for coming so quickly. Would you come in, please.”

I left my things on the admin's desk, at her kind direction, and taking only the small purse, I crossed my hands in front of me and walked through the door.

The headmaster was digging in a file, so he had his back turned, as I entered.

“Headmaster?” I asked quietly as soon as I reached a spot three feet in front of his desk.

Miss Lynn was rising from a chair at the small conference table in the corner of the heads office, which was as large and as lavishly appointed as you would expect of one of New England's oldest and most prestigious preparatory schools.

I was a little comforted by the fact that she seemed to be mostly staring at me for the way that I was dressed, but her eyes had that flat dullness that couldn't make me feel anything but sick.

“Ah, Mr. Morgan. Thank you for coming so quickly, I…”

It looked like everyone was going to do that very thing today, I thought.

“Excuse me, Mr. Morgan. I was of course told how enthusiastically you've thrown yourself into Mrs. Pierce's dance preparations, but seeing it is yet another thing entirely. You've outdone yourself.”

“I'm sorry, Headmaster. I didn't mean to startle anyone.”

The carpet suddenly felt much deeper and much spongier to me than it had as I'd walked in.

“It would seem that after having done the same to several members of my staff, you at least, would be used to it. However, I can see that you look at least as startled as everyone else. Relax Chris. Have a seat. Miss Lynn, if you'd excuse us?”

“She can stay, Sir.” I wanted her there.

“No she can't, Chris.” Mrs. Pierce said, as Miss Lynn closed the door on her way out.

He grimaced, somewhat sympathetically, toward me as I walked to one of the red leather chairs in front of his desk, and gingerly gathered my skirt again before sliding the minimal area of my rear onto the edge of the seat. None of these people had ever called me 'Chris' so much, in the entire time I'd been here and every time they did so now made it feel like my knees might give way. I felt as if I were a patient whose doctor suddenly became far too kind and considerate.

“Well! As I was about to say, I've called you here because…”

At that moment, Doctor Cross chose to enter. He was a younger dark-haired man who I'd only met briefly before.

“Sorry, Headmaster.” he said, much as I had, as soon as he entered. “I came as soon as I got your message.” He greeted each of us in turn with at least a brief murmur or nod as well.

“Well,” the Head began again, I hoped for the last time, “there are several reasons why I called you in today, Chris, but first I have to ask a question that might seem a bit personal, and for that I apologize in advance.”

I nodded to let him know I was ready, which of course I wasn't.

“Miss Lynn has told us that you were notified by your parents this past Friday that you'll be spending Christmas here with us again?”

It was like a sucker punch to the stomach! On Friday afternoon I'd have been expecting it, but now, I'd never seen it coming and all I could do was exercise my jaw helplessly.

'Jesus', I thought, and for the first time it was a only a prayer. Please don't cry. I'll cry tonight in my room but please just don't cry now.

Dr. Pope didn't see the need to wait for me.

“It's alright. I can see the answer in your face, Chris, and must tell you how very sorry I am to hear of it. I'd like to ask if you are all right but you've answered that question quite plainly as well.

"We all understand that these things sometimes happen, and it is one of the services this school provides to its patrons, to create as much of a homelike atmosphere as we possibly can for the young men entrusted to our care. More than that, though, I wanted you to know that you are always welcome here.

"On the other hand, given that this is the… third?” he looked in Mrs. Pierce's direction for a moment, “year in a row, I hope you'll understand that I fully intend to take this up with your parents as soon as that can be arranged. Our obligations to you are simply greater than our obligations to your parents.”

I was able to nod my head this time. I did understand and, as bad as it made me feel, and, as much as I wanted to ask him to please leave it to my family, the look on his face said rather bluntly that it was already out of my hands.

I shifted the small purse off of my shoulder and held it to give them something else to do. I could only look at him.

“So you spent your first Christmas at Saint Andrew's with Mrs. Pierce and last year with Mrs. Laurie?” He made a quizzical face in her direction for a moment before looking at me again.

“Yes sir.” I had to clear my throat. “That first year Mrs. Pierce was kind enough to invite me to her home, and last year, because Mrs. Pierce was traveling, Mrs. Laurie invited me to have dinner with her family. Both their families were very, very kind to me sir.”

He smiled or grimaced under his white mustache. I could not quite tell.

“Well, Chris, unless things change of course, I would like to take this opportunity to invite you to dine with Mrs. Pope and me this Christmas. It will be just us and my eldest daughter but we would certainly love to have you. In fact, I was just noting in the summary of your record that you have never had a single disciplinary note added to your file, minor or otherwise, and that you have maintained a near four oh average in some fairly advanced course work for your age.”

“I ha… thank you, Headmaster.”

“Don't thank me, Chris. It's your record, and it has been our pleasure to have you here with us and we are very proud of the work you've done. Your instructors expect the greatest of things from you in the future and I for one would very much welcome the pleasure of getting to know you better than I have been able to these past two years. I could of course have suggested that you get into trouble a little more often instead, but I doubt if Mrs. Pierce would leave me with two good legs if I did.”

Mrs. Pierce was all smiles for some reason and speaking while she walked over to a notebook computer that lay open and flashing on top of a tall filing cabinet, where she began tapping various keys. “It is good that it has only taken you ten years to become aware of the limits of my personal patience, Headmaster.”

He never really lessened his regard of me to look at her as he replied. “I am indeed, as I'm sure my wife will also attest, who is by the way, very pleased by the prospect of our little invitation, and who is also looking forward to your visit most eagerly.”

“Thank you, Headmaster. It would be my very great pleasure to come.”

“Good.” He smiled again, before leaning back in his chair.

“I am very curious about one thing, though. Did your parents ever tell you why they were so seldom available?”

Please god. Don't let me cry.

“No sir, not really. Both notes said that they were busy and couldn't get away just now but there were no details. They did say that, although it was most unlikely that they would be able to make it, they promised to try.”

He looked as displeased as ever I'd seen him. It was how I'd always imagined he would look when dealing with a major infraction of the honor code.

He shook his head, and reached to look at something in the file, before he put it down again to stare at me. It caused me to look uncomfortably away, only to see from the corners of my eyes that all of the adults had the same expression.

“So you heard from your mother as well?”

“Yes sir. She writes to me every month, sir.”

“Well…” He folded the file closed. “I'm impressed that you neither try to make excuses for them, nor try to convince us you are abused. All I can say is, that if my lawyers had not constantly assured me over the years that leaving students here with us does not constitute child abuse, I'd file a complaint against them myself for reckless abandonment.”

I knew he meant it well by the small smile he gave me but I was only really convinced that he did not like the color of his office carpet. I felt like I might have changed it for him right then and there, but he asked me another question that took me totally by surprise.

“Chris, I'm sorry, but I have to ask. You mean to tell me that you really don't know why your mother has not come to see you? You don't need to be shy about it with us. There are some people in this room who are very fond of you, you know.”

Shit. He handed me a tissue.

“No, sir.” I had to dab my eyes carefully at the corners, but at least they cleared again. “Can you tell me anything, sir? You've obviously been told more than I have.” My voice sounded hollow, and far away, and very much younger than I thought I was.

It was his turn to look down now. No one else was looking at me either when I instinctively glanced around.

“No, Chris, I truly can't, right now. I can only promise that I will do everything in my power…”

I tried to stand up but my legs felt too shaky.

Mrs. Pierce was on me before I could turn to look at her hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me, Headmaster. Chris, have you eaten today? I just got a note from the ladies in the dining room informing me that you have been scarce around there the last few days.”

I really had no idea what to expect next. “Ye… Yes, Ma'am. Mrs. Kluge made me eat…”

Mrs. Pierce finished it for me. “Three bites of a bagel, and half an egg?”

I nodded, and so did she. When I turned back to the Headmaster he seemed to nod at Mrs. Pierce, before looking at me, which almost made me forget what I'd been about to jump up and ask.

“Sir? Do you really know why this has been happening and all the while no one's telling me?”

He just looked at me again for a long moment. “No. I really don't know the half of it, but Chris, I promise you by the time we sit down to Mrs. Pope's famous Christmas turkey, you and I both will. I can give you my word on that. Mrs. Pierce has put in two calls to your father since Miss Lynn informed us of the situation and I am sure she will put in one more the moment you leave here.”

I knew that whatever the reasons for all of this, that it certainly wasn't his fault but I couldn't even nod. They knew something that they wouldn't tell me. Everyone in this room had always been so very nice to me, even the psychologist to whom I'd only spoken once before. I really didn't understand any of this.

From behind me came “Headmaster?” Doctor Cross spoke in the lull. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course, that's why I asked you to be here even before you insisted..”

“Chris, did you go to Miss Lynn about this?”

Sure. I brought my teddy bear along with me too. I didn't bother sliding around so that he could see me, I didn't want to look at him, and so I just bowed my head.

“No sir. Miss Lynn was walking down the hallway and ran into me just after I got my mother's letter. Miss Lynn took me to her office so that I could wash my face and then walked with me to dinner to be sure I didn't just go back to my room. She was very kind.”

He still wasn't satisfied obviously.

“Chris, if Miss Lynn had not run into you just then, would you have sought her out and confided in her?”

I was really beginning to dislike them all.

“No. I wouldn't have told anyone. I'd have had to tell Mrs. Pierce this week that I would be here over the holiday break but I wouldn't have done that ‘til I had to.”

“Why?”

I turned around then. I suppose I could honestly tell him it was none of his goddamned business but I couldn't do that. I don't know why, but suddenly, all of the anger that I had been feeling for them just suddenly receded into a strange calm when I realized how dense they were.

I was stuck here. I had nowhere else to go. I took a deep breath.

“Because you can't do anything about it, Doctor Cross. Because it’s embarrassing and I didn't want anyone to know.”

He looked like he was going to say something else but I turned around before he could. I couldn't believe I'd e-mailed him on Sunday.

The headmaster held up his hand in Doctor Cross' direction, and there were no more questions.

“Chris, there is another matter I have to clear up and, although I'm still hopeful that it will be far less painful for all concerned, I'm afraid that it is potentially more serious for us than Christmas. I need your help in clearing it up as quickly as possible.”

I found myself looking him dead in the eyes just then. “My help, sir?” It came out while his features took on that same fuzziness I was constantly dealing with of late.

The headmaster just looked at me for a few moments, and even though I could have sworn I heard Mrs. Pierce grunt, I could only stare at him.

“Point taken,” he said, “but I still need your help.”

I had to lean back in the chair now, already sorry for being rude to him. “You'll have it, sir.”

“I believe I will.” He shook his head a little but he continued “There is a matter that has come to my attention, of which I need to hear your side. That’s why I asked Miss Lynn to step outside whilst we talk…”

I may be only sixteen but I'm not actually dumb. I suppose that it's not something a person can be unaware of. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take, so I just wanted to finish it. I tried to sit up a little straighter, just as Mrs. Pierce reached over my shoulder with a cup of water.

“Thank you, Ma'am.” I said sipping, as grateful for the water as I'd been for anything in my life.

“You’re welcome, Chris.” She said patting my shoulder.

“Sir. I know what's going on. I know a little of how things work, and how things get blown out of proportion. I'm not unaware that you probably think that Miss Lynn or I might have committed ... an error in judgement. I'm very sorry if you've been given that worry.

I can tell you that she's only ever been nice to me. I didn't like the look in her eyes or the fact that you need Doctor Cross here. Besides, this whole thing feels very scary, and I believe the easiest way to fix whatever is bothering everyone is to tell you what you need to know.

I also think, that even though I am trying very hard to believe you must have some valid ethical reason for not being able to tell me what's going on with my mother and father, I have no such dilemma, sir. I just can't think of any reason why I can't answer any question you might feel the need to ask.”

I deliberately turned away from the headmaster's profoundly thoughtful face to look at the other two.

“Very well then. Would you like to tell me what happened here this past Friday night, Chris?”

“No sir.”

I thought he was going to fall out of his chair. His mouth tightened and his eyes darted around the room as if to be sure that everyone else had heard it too.

At least he did until Mrs. Pierce chuckled behind me.

“I beg your pardon, Mister Morgan?”

The anger in me was not gone, but it was ... redirected.

“You have it, sir. Please ask me any question you like, and I will answer any that you put to me as honestly and as completely as I possibly can.”

Now he really couldn't believe I said that, but Mrs. Pierce did. She snorted even more loudly behind me. The head did not look happy, and he just sat back and said nothing for a good ten seconds. He did wave Doctor Cross into silence again.

“Well, I can see that your intelligence quotient is not the anomaly that some of my people thought it was this morning. Not any of the instructors who know you best, mind you.”

When he glanced again at Mrs. Pierce, she simply said: "It's easy to forget just how very smart he is, when all you can see is how young he is, Headmaster."

The head might have nodded slightly, I wasn't sure. I didn't feel any need to respond, even if I'd known how. After all, as nice as they had been, and even though I had nowhere else to go, I couldn't help thinking that all they could do was to throw me out.

“You are very mad at me right now, aren't you, Chris?”

“I'm sorry sir, but I am. If you'd like, I probably won't be in an hour. I know this is not your fault and I never stay mad at anyone very long. Would you like to put this off till this afternoon?”

“That won't be necessary. I don't blame you for your anger. I'd feel the same. Besides, I think you are giving me some very honest answers. I'll try equally hard to accord you the same privilege wherever it doesn't violate other ethical considerations.”

I nodded again . “I'd very much appreciate that, Headmaster.”

“Chris ... I hope you don't mind my calling you by your first name? I know it's not the standard practice.”

“I don't mind, but I was beginning to feel a bit ... condemned.”

He smiled a very kindly smile then. “Look in the mirror, Chris, calling you Mister Morgan is not the most natural thing to do right now. Which brings us to the point again, finally. Did you hear the rumor about a girl on campus, Chris?”

“Yes sir. Yesterday after my first class. Fred Thomas mentioned it to me between classes.”

“Is that why you skipped your other class?”

“Yes sir, it was. I was in my room being sick to my stomach.”

“You were throwing up?”

“Yes sir, twice.”

“Why? Were you ill?”

“I not quite sure what you mean, sir, but no. I was afraid that I might have gotten Miss Lynn into trouble.”

“Did you or Miss Lynn do anything that she should be in trouble?”

“No sir, we did not.” It was hard but I made sure that my voice had not changed too much and that I didn't use any sentences with 'and' or 'but' in them.

“Chris, do you know who that girl was?”

Did I? I didn't know what was going on right now, or if Miss Lynn had even told them. Unfortunately, even if I wanted to try and lie, I couldn't see how it could possibly hold up. I'd already realized that everyone would probably find out everything before I even walked out of the theater on Friday to get something to eat. There was only about a second between the time he asked the question and my answer.

“Yes sir. I believe it was me.”

He was nice enough to nod. He had known.

“Yours was the only card key that passed the locks in that end of the building that night, Chris. Can you tell me how it was you came to be dressed so that everyone would think you were a girl?”

“Yes sir. Mrs. Pierce wanted Ginger, Ginger, and me to wear skirts so that the other guys wouldn't be ripping them off the Saint Mary's girls every time they tried to dance with them. I thought you knew.”

Mrs. Pierce laughed.

“Mildred, please.” The head said in frustration.

He sounded as pained as he had when he first addressed us about the dance. I felt sorry for him. I had been honest;I never stay angry for long.

Mrs. Pierce spoke abruptly. “Funny, Chris, but I'd advise that the simple truth is your best strategy.”

I smiled, apologetically, for the first time since I'd entered the office. “I'm sorry sir.” I sighed more loudly than I meant to and took a sip of water before I could continue.

“I helped Miss Lynn with the dancing last Friday. She showed me some of the steps and things that she expected me to help with and then we worked with our group until we were too tired. After we were done, she told me of the plan for we three surrogates to wear long skirts or dresses to help the guys.”

“How did you feel about that?” Cross asked.

The head did not look happy but he let it go.

“I don't know really. That's one of the reasons I sent you the e-mail on Sunday. I didn't exactly hate the idea. I was afraid to be singled out, though, because I'm… I was a little sensitive about it.”

Cross interrupted again. “Sir, perhaps this isn't the proper venue…”

The head didn't look happy but I answered before he could, speaking directly to the headmaster.

“Sir, I'll only tell you what I'm comfortable telling you. I really don't mind.”

The headmaster looked like he himself was torn but he only said, “Go on then.”

“Well, I know Miss Lynn was uncomfortable with it, in part because she'd roped me into helping her, and in part because I probably made her think that I was going to implode at eleven pm on December twenty-fourth,” I smiled even more weakly in apology, “but I think the biggest reason she was uncomfortable with the whole idea is because she had caught me earlier that afternoon looking through the dresses in the theater. She knew she'd hit a nerve.”

“Looking at the dresses?”

“Yes sir. I was looking for the ones I liked and holding them up in front of me in the mirror and things, to see what they would look like.”

“Because of the dance classes?”

I sighed even though I didn't want to. “Yes sir, but also because they were pretty.”

“Oh, I see.” He said looking like he wanted to change the subject. I'd always been good at knowing what people’s feelings were toward me. I hated the look of disappointment I saw in his eyes then but simply would not lie. Truth was all that I had left.

“What happened after the class?” He finally prompted.

“Well, sir, Miss Lynn gave me the choice of not doing it, but I thought it would be best just to do what would help everyone out the most. She brought me one of the dresses I had liked and helped me by telling me how to put it on.”

“Was she in the dressing room with you?” Mrs. Pierce asked, causing everyone to jump almost as much as I did.

At least, though, the question was as honest as my answers had been.

“Not when I changed, Ma'am. The dress did have about a hundred buttons on the back, I think, which she had to button for me. Later she unbuttoned them, but she did that on the stage. The only time both she and I were in the small dressing room was when we were talking in there for a couple of minutes.”

“What were you talking about?” The head asked.

“Lots of things sir, about how I had been feeling mostly but also about the dancing.”

“Did she ask you to wear makeup?” Doctor Pope asked.

“Not really. She had to help me with that at the makeup mirror, because it's not something I'm very good with and I didn't want to embarrass anyone by looking silly in the dress.”

“Had you worn makeup before?” Was Doctor Cross's follow-up.

“Yes.”

It was quiet for several breaths then.

“Did Miss Lynn suggest you go with her off campus, Chris?” The headmaster asked.

I looked him in the eye, even though the disappointment I saw there made that very, very hard. “Yes sir, she did.”

“Why did you go?” He asked.

I sighed again. “Sir, may I ask if you could possibly stop looking so disappointed.”

I had no idea where that had come from. He started to object but didn't because I didn't give him a chance.

“I'm not cracking up and I'm not some weirdo transvestite or something. Believe me, I know how strange that statement may be to you but it's true.”

“Chris, I've had a little training in dealing with people myself. They didn't just pick me off the street because there happened to be a bus stop out front. I don't think you are a transvestite. You don't look anything like one to me. If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I'm really am only worried about you ...”

He had to think about it before he continued, but I gave him credit for keeping his promise.

“... and for some very valuable members of my staff as well.”

I smiled in appreciation of his honesty and in his eyes I could see that he understood why I had.

“So why did you go?” he continued sounding more like he was mad than concerned.

“One of the things that came up when we were talking was that my parents had given her permission to take me to go and do any Christmas shopping I might need to get done, or just to be able to get away and talk. They were right. I wanted to go.

"We'd run the practice too late to be able to get anything to eat, and she had offered earlier that if that happened, she'd take me with her on an errand she had to run to grab something. I think she was afraid I'd wind up starving until breakfast or lunch on Saturday if she didn't.”

“Did she give you the clothes you were wearing?” He asked it just the same way, but his voice sounded different to me.

“Some of them. I'd found some the stuff I needed in the dressing rooms and I think she wanted to make sure I'd be safe so she helped me.”

“You could have worn your uniform.” He was not happy and everyone knew it.

“Headmaster…” Cross tried to break in but we both ignored him.

“Yes sir. I could have worn my uniform ... again. I really had been feeling sad, though. It wouldn't have bothered anyone, but me. I really didn't want to wear the uniform just then.”

I think he understood but he was looking at Doctor Cross over my shoulder who was shifting around loudly.

“If you ask me, sir, I'll go and change when we are done.”

It really wasn't that bad a carpet, I thought suddenly, not feeling as ill as I had been because of being able to get all this off my chest but I still wasn't feeling well either and I really didn't feel like looking at them just then.

Mrs. Pierce asked. “Chris has anyone been mean to you about the way you are dressed? I'm sure I made it clear that you boys were doing this for me and for the school.”

“You mean besides Professor Hammond, ma'am? No. Not at all. Everyone's been really nice to me. Funny too.”

She sighed openly. “Well, good. I've spoken to several of the boys and no one seems to mind. I'll speak to Mr. Hammond but, if anyone does say anything, I want you to come straight to me.”

The Head spoke up then, still accompanied by noises from Doctor Cross, but he wouldn't dare to interrupt Mrs. Pierce or the Head.

“Perhaps you'd be kind enough to pass long my own recommendation for more dietary fiber to Professor Hammond.” He looked at her then. “Mildred, I understand your very good intentions in making sure the boys are as well rounded as we can make them but perhaps this thing has gone on long enough.”

I suddenly heard some idiot speaking. “Sir, I don't want to cause….”

Mrs. Pierce was on my shoulder again, as she answered him. “I'm not so sure, Headmaster but, of course, I would be happy to hear your thoughts when we are through here. For now though, not only are the ladies from Saint Mary's due here around two this afternoon, but I still fully believe there really have been no problems with the boys. I think it's only given them something to distract them from the fear of dancing.”

The head nodded that he understood.

“I would also like to point out that Chris is not only the best dancer among us but, as I told you earlier, he helped both myself and Tom Anders out of a very uncomfortable situation that I'm afraid I was handling rather badly.”

Doctor Pope actually began to chuckle. “You know how much I wish you'd sent them to me.”

I felt her squeeze my shoulder before she answered him. “I considered it, sir, and I regret missing the opportunity, but the head of our athletics and health department was a colonel of marines, sir.”

He chuckled again and she patted my shoulder before letting it go.

He looked at me and I tried to look as calm as possible but what I really wanted to do was look at Mrs. Pierce.

He was still almost smiling. “So what errand did you run and where did you go?”

“I…” I had to swallow more water. “Miss Lynn had given me a package with a long slip in it…”

“A slip?” he interrupted.

“Yes sir. It's a type of …”

“I know what a slip is, Chris. She gave you one.”

“Yes, Headmaster. She had two new ones in packages. She gave me her last one when we were trying to find a dress for the next class. You need it, because it keeps the long skirt from getting so wrapped up around your legs as you dance. No point in teaching the guys not to rip them off, if you wind up falling over it anyway. I took her last one.”

He did not look very pleased. “And did you think that wearing makeup, perfume, and a bow in your hair would make your classmates more steady on their feet?”

Cross was on his feet. “Doctor Pope, I'm sorry to interrupt sir, but I really must remind you that I need us to table this aspect of the discussion until Chris and I have talked.”

The head didn't look mad at him like I expected but he didn't look happy either. “I understand that Doctor, but you realize that this isn't the first time I've had to speak to a young man with a problem. I'm…”

Mrs. Pierce stopped them both in their tracks. “With questions, Headmaster. Chris has questions.”

“You are right, of course, Mildred. Thank you. Questions.”

She continued to everyone's surprise, “And I for one agree with Doctor Cross in his request.”

The head just nodded, surprising me again when he actually said “Thank you, Mildred." He looked back at me. “So where exactly did you go?”

“We hit the burger drive through. It was awful. And then we went straight to the mall.”

“You went into the mall?”

“Just the one big store at the end. We never went inside the mall proper. Miss Lynn told me I could stay in the car and had parked right next to the store under the light but I think that she was uncomfortable leaving me alone. I wanted to go in anyway. I needed to get some things for the classes too, and I didn't want her to have to pay for it. Once we got inside we just ... had fun”

I blushed again and he just looked at me some more. I don't think he knew what to ask.

I continued. “Well we were talking and giggling by then and I was feeling much less depressed, so I bought some things I needed.”

He looked at me again and, I swear, I heard Miss Pierce make another weird noise but, with the face that Doctor Pope was making, I couldn't tear my eyes away.

“And you spoke about?” He asked slowly.

“About me. About how I'd been feeling so lonely. About why I check out romantic stories every weekend, and read books and article reprints on makeup and fashions…'

As soon as I realized that the carpet might be due for a vacuuming, I forced my eyes back up to look at him.

“Chris, did you discuss anything of a personal nature with Miss Lynn. I will tell you in fairness she has already told us she did.”

“Yes sir, she would. She told me a little about when she was a girl and a little about her brother, so that I'd know she really understood. She told me that her biggest fear, other than for me, was that she was afraid that her experiences with him might have colored her judgment. She told me that Doctor Cross, and Mrs. Pierce, and my parents were very nice people, and that I really needed to talk with them. That's why I wrote to Doctor Cross on Sunday, and asked if I could come and talk to him about some gender questions.”

“You contacted the doctor at her request?” His tone made it clear that Miss Lynn had not shared that part of it, but it also gave me the impression that he understood that she had only done so to protect my privacy.

I nodded to him. “I contacted Doctor Cross, sir, because I wanted to, and because she thought it was a really good idea too.”

Doctor Cross spoke. “I'm sorry head master but, because Chris had asked some very specific questions in his e-mail, I didn't feel I could discuss it with you, but he did make the appointment, and he did say it was at the urging of Miss Lynn. He wrote very clearly that she had made him feel much better and had given him the courage he needed to speak with me.”

The headmaster nodded to Doctor Cross, but I think he was looking at Mrs. Pierce when he spoke. “Thank you for the corroboration doctor but I was quite comfortable taking Mr. Morgan at his word.” He leaned forward to look at me very closely then.

Much more closely and I swear he took a deep breath.

“Chris, did Miss Lynn do anything on Friday night that made you feel bad or uncomfortable. Did she coerce you into doing anything, or did any of the more personal questions that she asked you upset you in any way.”

I hoped that his leaning closer was helping him see me because I couldn't see him at all. Shit. I felt tears begin to leak onto my cheeks.

“Sir… No, sir!” I tried to dab them away with the now badly crushed Kleenex but it was too late, and the single Kleenex was too small. “Miss Lynn is like a big sister. She talks to me. My father is so busy, and when I tried to write to my mother ... but her letters were confused and distant, she doesn't really answer the questions I ask her, my dad does. Miss Lynn is the nicest…”

“Chris, I didn't…” The head said, but it really was far too late.

“I think that's all we needed to hear.” Mrs. Pierce was lifting me under my arms, whilst I fumbled with the Kleenex and the little purse.

     I didn't look at anyone as she steered me through the office. I'm sure the girls in the outer area were watching me but I didn't look up. Before I found myself all away across the common area and into Mrs. Pierce's office.

“Here, Chris.” She handed me a fresh bundle of tissues, and said. “Have a seat, Chris.”

I moved toward a chair but she steered me by my shoulders again.

“Not there, Chris. Here at my desk. I had the ladies in the dining room send you over some hot food. You can't be skipping meals like that. You should have come to me. I'm very sorry I didn't know until Amy came to me this morning. You should have come to me, Chris. Here, you need food.”

“I'm sorry, I…”

“I know, Chris.” She lifted my chin with her fingers to force me to look at her. “I know. Just remember that just because I've never hit you before, it doesn't mean that I won't if you ever do that again.”

I was helpless to hold it in any longer.

“Oh Chris…” she whispered, pulling me to her…

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

Chapter VI

     It was all anticlimactic. No one wore the skirts the next day. Although, as far as I know, no one told them they didn't need to. Everyone was nice enough, even if they seemed a little distant somehow. All except for Miss Lynn, who I had for two hours of chemistry that morning. She smiled like anything when she said hello, which made me feel like a weight had been lifted off my chest.

At lunch, my tray had only contained about twice as much food as I could eat. Comic amounts of food actually. A couple of the guys thought that was so funny they donated their deserts - just in case I got hungry. All were lime Jell-O, so they really weren't worth much more than the humor they could garner. It was kind of funny, I suppose.

I gave up early, and headed to the library to get some work done before my afternoon lecture but no sooner had I logged into the computer than I got the flag that I had three current messages.

The first, from Miss Lindsay, the office admin, that I had an appointment with the doctor at one. The second, from Cross, was the same message.
The third was from my dad:

I looked at the screen for several minutes. Mostly because I was really surprised I wasn't crying. After everything that had happened, I just felt a little numb.

I moved the cursor to the blank part of the screen, and with one finger began to peck keys:

I looked at it for a few moments with my finger over the return key, but it really wasn't the note I wanted to send. Slowly my finger moved up to the backspace key, and began to tap a soulful jazz rhythm.

I sat there a while, because the clock had moved toward one before I knew it. When I looked back, the screen showed 'I KNOW.'

I looked at it only a few minutes more, before I typed 'I LOVE YOU TOO.' I hit send, and gathered my stuff while the PC logged off, then headed to the class to drop off the work that was due, before I went to see Doctor Cross.

Of Doctor Cross, all I can say is that he is a great listener, but he seems to have an aversion for admitting that the Earth actually revolves around the Sun. He'd informed me that it would take three or four more sessions, until he is comfortable that he knows me well enough to be able to answer some of the questions I’d asked - but he is a great listener. He scribbles notes very fast too.

I was thinking about one thing he said, though. He said that most of the people he worked with knew what they wanted, but were afraid of it for some reason. He said that sometimes it takes a little time to figure out exactly what you want, but it was usually what you knew you needed all along.

I was passing by the office, when I got an inspiration for the first time that day, on account of my having no classes in the afternoon late in the week. I stopped at the window to the office, and filled out a slip requesting permission to leave the campus to do some Christmas shopping. I listed that I wanted to go for only a couple of hours, and put down my cell phone number. Then I filled out the same thing for Saturday morning, listing the dance as the reason, and dropping them both in the slot and onto the top of the rather large pile of sheets that already lay inside the box on a shelf just inside the window.

     My eyes were wrong again. I wasn't even looking at my face as I washed it. Just my eyes.

I hadn't seen Miss Lynn since class but I was sure she would be running the tutorial with the dance only a few days away. I was so glad she was feeling better but wasn't sure I could go through with it.

“You're just being stupid,” I told my reflection. I hadn't even had a bad day but I just kept looking in the bathroom mirror like I might still find the answer there.

I really had a good day. I got to talk to Doctor Cross. He promised to answer my questions later, because he wanted to know more about me first, and I really understood his position. The problem was, I realized, that I didn't really care what Doctor Cross thought. I didn't even know him.

I did care what Miss Lynn thought because I could have ended her career, and sent her to work at the mall. Because of me, she might never have taught again, and that hurt me terribly. I'd never hurt anyone before, and after this, I sure wouldn't willingly take the chance of doing it again.

I cared what my dad thought, but he didn't seem to care as much about what I was thinking. He would call as soon as he could. He always did. Provided the meetings didn't run too long, and someone remembered to leave it on one of his bullet lists.

That wasn't fair, but it was just the way it was.

I could see the blue and white panties on the curtain rod in the mirror. I chose the white.

Tomorrow I'd have to get more, and some tights.

I didn't want to wear the black again, so I took the next skirt which was a very dark navy blue. Without another blouse, I had to dig to find something. I chose to wear a white turtleneck.

I had to shake my head at the idiot in the long mirror, when I recalled the conversation that I'd had with my father last summer, when he tried to explain to me that boys wore pink polo shirts. I'd thought it was a test at the time, so I'd refused, but the memory inspired me now and I dug in my drawers until I'd found a light cream colored sweater vest from my mother that I'd never worn and slipped that over the turtleneck.

I smiled a little, because that was much better. If I got too hot, I could always take the vest off, I thought, pulling the locket out of the turtleneck and laying it in the V of the vest.

The perfume and mascara were right where I'd left them, but this time I remembered to slip them in the little purse when I was done.

     I was very early, again, and the lights were off in the theater, so I went around flipping switches, moving curtains and generally getting things ready. I was even able to spend time to find a softer, much better fitting pair of shoes, too. Two minutes told me they were much better than those I'd worn before and, after so many dances lately, I was grateful.

“Chris?” I heard the door close as she called up from in the seating.

“Good evening, Miss Lynn. You're early too.” I said, moving to the front of the stage to wait for her, since everything was ready.

She strode purposefully down the aisle toward me. “I thought I should be. The boys are in a bit of a panic now. I didn't really expect you to be here. Are you Okay?” She asked moving steadily closer as she stared at me, which I think accounted for the funny tone in her voice when she asked how I was.

“I'm fine, ma'am. Please don't worry about me.”

Neither of us said anything, until she was up the stairs, but she spoke as soon as her foot touched the wood of the stage.

“Chris. What are you doing?”

“I'm doing what I was asked. I'm doing what I promised you I would.”

She took be by the hand and pulled me around the corner of the stage behind the curtain.

“Chris, we don't have much time. The guys will be her any minute because they're really getting a little freaked out about the dance. I… I don't think you understand how worried everyone from the Headmaster on down are.”

“He doesn't have to worry about me. I'm fine.”

“You are not fine; he does have to worry about you. I'm worried about you. He likes you, Chris. A lot. He just can't ever show it but, I promise you, that when he heard what you were going through he was as upset and angry as I've ever seen him. The administrator too. Mrs. Pierce likes all you boys, more than she lets on, but I really get the impression that she thinks of you like one of her own. You do know how much they really like you, right?”

I nodded and mumbled that I did.

“Well they want to help you, Chris, but they just don't really know how yet. They're not your parents and there are only certain things they can do. You have to get hold of yourself.”

“I know that, Miss Lynn. I wouldn't upset any of them, or you, for anything.”

“God damn it,” she hissed, “I'm not really talking about them Chris, and you know it. I've seen your test scores and you had better get this 'I'm just being lil ol' me' act out of your system damned fast. They can't tell you that you can't wear a skirt and makeup to practice, because they already told you that you could, and because at this point it would probably violate their own non-discrimination policy. Nevertheless, Chris, they are also very afraid to tell you that you can't. They are really worried that you might be close.”

“I'm sorry. Really I am. I do understand. I'm just not sure if you or anyone else does, Miss Lynn.”

She was really looking at me now, still worried, and a little confused even.

“I'm not doing anything to worry you or anyone, Miss Lynn. I'll only wear the clothes for the dancing. The clothes aren't what's important anyway. They make me feel good, really good, but not so much that I'd keep doing it if it were going to hurt anything. I'm not doing it to upset anyone and, if you want me to go and change, I will. It's just… it's not my fault how I look in them. It's not my fault what people see.”

She really did look surprised. I knew she really understood more than everyone except perhaps for Mrs. Pierce, but I also knew that she would understand soon. She wasn't the kind to give up on anything before she figured it out.

She breathed out a heavy drawn-out sigh. “I get it, Chris. Honestly, I do. You just need to be careful how far you push everything so quickly. If the head could have ordered you to change immediately he would have. Not that he doesn't understand or sympathize, because he does understand, Chris, one hell of a lot more than you give him credit for understanding. He's just very worried you're ready to crack. You should give them a break.”

“Did you get into a lot of trouble?”

She sighed again, and nodded her head this time. “Not for trying to help you, because that's what I should do. Even if I were not so fond of you, which was what the Headmaster was afraid the board members might think.”

I asked, a little dully, "Are they involved."

She shook her head. "No, thank God. The head just wanted to have the answers ready if they should find out."

She shook her head again, and her expression softened a lot more than I'd have thought it could. “Did you really tell them I was more like a big sister? I was only trying to get you to smile, and maybe to talk to me. I didn't mean to brainwash you.”

“I did.”

“Well, if my little brother had been as nice as you, I'd have never been mean to him at all.”

“How much trouble were you in?” I asked again, because I was still worried for the trouble I'd caused her.

“Well like I said, they couldn't be mad about my being nice to you, because it's my job, and they encourage us to do that wherever we see the need. Then again, when I went to them on Monday night and told them almost everything, because I was so worried about you too, they were not happy about anything I said. The clothes, well they were part of the dance program, and this school has a long history of boys wearing girls clothes for plays and such, so they could be disappointed, but they couldn't be mad about that either. The one part that truly pissed them off, was that I took you off campus dressed in girl’s clothes. I think that's why Doctor Pope and Mrs. Pierce wanted to have everything examined, in case any of the governors found out. He wanted to have the answers ready, so he could protect us both.”

I felt so bad. “I'm so sorry. I knew it was dumb at the time but I really wanted to go with you.”

“I did too. Moreover, Chris, if I had to do it all over again, I'd have tried a little brighter lipstick on you, because I just thought you looked adorable. Other than that, I'd do the same thing again. Seeing you happy for the first time was worth it.

"Still, they were really pissed, and if it were not for Mrs. Pierce sticking up for me, saying that I did the best I could in a bad situation. I might have lost my job. Even the appearance or suggestion of something askew in a place like this; you just don't do that.”

“I am sorry but, you should know, when we were laughing and joking and talking, it felt really good. The nicest anything's felt for a long long time.”

She smiled as she reached out to adjust the locket on the front of my shirt.

“I know, and it's even more than that, Chris. What I told the Headmaster was, that until I saw you laughing and smiling on Friday, I had never actually realized how depressed you've been. You are always nice and polite, you work so very hard, and you're so even tempered… how could I know that you were really so depressed for so long. I couldn't believe the change. No Chris, the one thing I'm very sure of is that you don't need to apologize. I'm glad we went.”

“Thank you, Miss Lynn. I was so scared for you. That means so much, and I'll never forget what you did for me, or the risk you took.”

“You are welcome, but I have to ask you to do one more thing for me. I need you to hold on and be a little more patient. Give them a little time to find out how to make you feel better. I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with what you've done because I really can't bring myself to feel that there is. You're just young, and it's easy to forget that it's not always about you. I was lucky. I learned that lesson very early, from my family any time when I knew or understood something that they didn't. Sometimes I just had to go slower until they caught up. I really, really believe that you have to do that now too. Okay?”

I didn't answer at first, but I really didn't want to make her unhappy because I could never have stood to see the same kind of disappointment on her face that had been on the headmaster's.

“I'll be careful.” I promised. “I'll be tough.”

She looked at me a little worried for a few seconds but then she said, “Thank you, Chris.”

She looked like she wanted to talk some more, but the door banged loudly, and then it banged again. The guys were early. It's funny how an imminent crisis can make you want to do things that you never thought you would ever have the courage to do in your life.

I stood on the stage and sorted the CDs on the table while everyone gathered. Even though it was still twenty minutes early, when there were six of us there, Miss Lynn took pity and started us off.

“Okay!” She was smiling at their earnest looks. “So, who still feels like they are really worried?”

Even I smiled, since there were more hands in the air than there were people present.

“Okay, Okay. Put your hands down. I get the point. Looks like we'll have to go alphabetically. Ah, let me see… Jerry.”

“M-My name is L-Langley, Ma'am.”

“I said we'd go alphabetically, Mister Langley. I didn't say I wouldn't start in the middle.”

“Wa-why me ma'am? I passed in my labs.”

“I know… and we'll talk about that later. You look the most frightened.”

That got his classmates to show their sympathy and appreciation. Not.

Miss Lynn raised her voice just loudly enough to cut across the din. “The racks back there are full of tutus and bridesmaid dresses and all manner of things much funnier than you are being required to endure right now. Just keep it up.”

They were a much more serious bunch when she finished staring at each of them in turn..

“Now listen, I know you are all nervous but you don't have to be. I promise. If you'll just work with me a little, you will do just fine at the dance. I'll even go so far as to say that I am now quite sure that you will all have a nice time.”

She smiled to reassure them, and I think it worked.

“Jerry?” She held out her hands.

Well, her smile worked on everyone, except of course, Jerry. It was bad enough about the dance but he always stammered around Miss Lynn on a good day. I think she was the only one who didn't know that he didn't actually have a speech impediment.

I felt so bad for him, I was talking before I knew it. “Ma'am, may I? Jerry?” I said, as I walked over to stand right in front of him. “You're too nervous. This is easy, you just don't like dancing with the boys, do you?”

“Heck No.” he smiled a little, forgetting he was afraid of me too.

“Look at me. Now put your hand on my hip right here.” I said patting my hipbone before reaching down and taking his hand, and turning it in mine to the proper position “Come on. I don't have anything the doctors could find… a little closer… not that close, Jerry. Listen, I've never been on a date either but I'm pretty sure you are supposed to let the girl lean into you when she's ready. If you do that at the dance, they'll be creeped-out as bad as you are right now.”

He smiled as he relaxed. “Good, that's much better. You just relax now, Jerry. I've danced with you, and so has Miss Lynn. You really are a better dancer than I am but, man, you are working on being the first sophomore at Saint Andrew's to die of a heart attack unrelated to Professor Tam's Latin theses.”

I looked over at the guys, who were just staring expressionlessly at us. I asked, “Can someone hit play, please?”

“You ready?” I spoke more softly to him.

He nodded, and said. “You smell really nice, Chris.”

Some of the guys chortled at that one.

“Jerry, it won't do us any good if you make me nervous too. Pay attention now… but, that's something you can do that at the dance. It’s nice, so thank you.”

The first strains began to play, and I asked again. “All set?”

He nodded again, looking down to make sure his feet were not on my hem, just like we'd been taught.

“Good. Whenever you are ready.” I said, and I closed my eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, Jerry. You're a good dancer. Don't worry, I'll follow wherever you lead me, just don't dance us off the stage. Would you rather I stare at you?”

“No!”

“Good, you're not exactly good looking anyway.” I told him.

“What?!”

“It's nothing to worry about.” I assured him. “There are plenty of very successful silly looking people.”

“Look who's talking.”

“Fine.”

“I just get nervous!” He claimed.

“No problem. Whenever you're ready, Jerry. Un-less you-just want-to hold-hands?” I said to the tempo of the music that had well begun, and then I just waited serenely.

On the next up beat, I felt Jerry push gently against my hip as he pulled slightly on my hand.

I only had my eyes closed for a few seconds but by then Jerry was fine. He was actually grinning at me for being such an idiot. So much so, that he forgot to be nervous at all.

I don't believe, judging by the look on her face, that Miss Lynn knew what to think but she was soon working with a boy of her own.

We drifted to a stop just as the music died. He was grinning as the other boys gave us a polite if enthusiastic golf clap.

“Thanks, Chris.” He mumbled.

I leaned a little closer and whispered. “With those moves, and that handsome face, Jerry, you are going to kill 'em. You might even avoid a virgin death.”

It was nice to see someone else blush for a change.

I looked around, and was worried that Miss Lynn was still watching me with a blank face, but I was sure she didn't want to say anything, so I turned to get another boy.

“Jacob.” I walked over and held out my hand to the tallest boy. My being one of the smallest, it was kind of funny, so everyone had two reasons to laugh, including the look in his face. “You have good rhythm, too. You just remember to take smaller steps, so that you don't squish anyone. There will be a lot of the little people on the dance floor. If you take your time, you'll be okay too”

Others were entering now, the confident ones like Tom, but I ignored them. I had to lift my arms up higher than normal, but I managed as I stood in position and looked over my shoulder at Miss Lynn.

She glanced at me and then nodded at the boy with the remote.

They really didn't need to worry. They all did much better than they had a week ago and the dances just seemed to follow one after the other as soon as we could change partners, sometimes in mid waltz.

Tom then asked me for the next dance, instead of waiting, which cause me to smile and blush while calling him a jerk.

We were ending the fifth dance when someone in the audience area began to applaud.

Mrs. Pierce stood up from where she had been sitting by the aisle, the fourth row back. “That was… impressive.” She said while looking at me.

I had no idea how long she'd been there and I wanted to look at the floor.

She didn't give me the chance. “Miss Lynn, I'm sorry to leave you short-handed, but I need to have a word with, Chris.”

“Of course.” Miss Lynn replied.

I could not help but stare straight back at Mrs. Pierce, watching me as I had to lift my skirt to walk down the stairs.

“My office, Chris.” she said softly, before raising her voice. “I'm sorry boys, but you should know that you are all doing very well indeed. I am very impressed. Miss Lynn.”

She caught up to me where I was waiting just outside the door, in the hall.

“Chris, don't look so worried.” She said, patting my shoulder but not smiling at all.

“I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't think Miss Lynn was very happy with me either.”

“What? Why?” Mrs. Pierce stopped, causing me to, also.

I just lifted my skirt a few inches and let it drop.

“Oh. I see.” She shook her head. “Chris, is that why you think I came to get you? Because of how you were dressed?”

I could only nod, hoping that my eyes weren't as big as they felt as I looked up at her. I swear I could feel them drying out before she shook her head.

“No, Chris. We need to call your father back. He called about thirty minutes ago, which gives us only about ten more to place the call to him.”

“He said he would but I guess he couldn't reach me.” I said, feeling only slightly better.

“Not at all, Chris. He called me before he tried you.”

“Is anything wrong, ma'am?”

She smiled a little for the first time but it wasn't any of the smiles I was used to. She just looked worried, but she quickly gave me her usual straightforward answer just the same.

“Yes there is, Chris. The same old thing, but I'm doing everything I can to get it straightened out as quickly as I can.”

“Did I do something wrong, ma'am?”

“Well it's good to see you still worry about that just a little… but no, Chris. You haven't. This has nothing to do with you really, except for the fact that when parents make any kind of mistake, it's always the younger folks in the family who take the brunt of it. When Doctor Pope or I make a mistake, it's always some of you who get the brunt, I'm sorry to say. You can't expect it to be any different at your home.”

“I think this is my home.” I said, not sounding nearly as sad as I'd intended, because I was too worried.

“That's what I'm trying to fix. Now come on, we have to get a move on.”

“Yes, ma'am.” I said immediately but I had to hurry to keep up.

“That was very impressive with Jerry.” She surprised me.

“You saw that, ma'am?”

“I see most things that matter, Chris, and that was one of the nicest.”

“He's just shy, ma'am, but he's really about the nicest boy here.”

“I see that too. He's also frightened to death of one very beautiful chemistry professor I can name.”

I'm sure my eyes grew wide again.

“That one was easy, Chris. I wish they all were.”

“She hates being called 'Professor'.” I said softly.

“I did too, when I was younger. It grows on you, however. Just about the time you figure out the way things work around here, and that it's the headmaster who's going to have to get the phone call about Jerry Casanova Langley from Saint Mary's, because you've just created a monster, that you start to look back pretty fondly at being called 'Professor' Pierce. Even if you take into account the nicknames. Now hurry. I spent way too much time watching you.”

     It made me feel a little weird when Mrs. Pierce took the seat beside me, and reached for the phone, but the second she did, I knew I wanted her to stay.

The woman on the other end of the phone spoke, French, which I understood pretty well because of Mom. Mrs. Pierce sounded like the French Ambassador to the United Nations.

'Apology. It's too late to place a call to a patient room. So very sorry, nothing I can do.'

Mrs. Pierce informed her it was to the doctor's office, not a room.

'Can't place the call this late, but can take message.'

Mrs. Pierce told her, very very nicely, that the international call was expected by her hospital director, and, if she didn't put us through immediately, the only thing she'd be taking was a place in the ranks of the unemployed. I'm pretty sure.

A phone was ringing about a second later and a man answered only a couple of seconds after that by saying "Hello", also in French.

To me, she said. “Chris, this is Doctor Rudolph Merz, the director of the hospital, at your mother's clinic outside of Biel. Doctor Merz, it’s Mrs. Pierce, from the Saint Andrew's school.”

Doctor Merz responded in English, but he had a heavy German accent, which didn't seem to bother Mrs. Pierce any more than it did me.

“Thank you for calling back so quickly, Mrs. Pierce. It's quite late here, but we thought it best not to wait. Is Chris there?”

Mrs. Pierce told them I was.

“Chris?” My father spoke.

“Dad?”

“Yes, I'm here. I'm sorry to do this to you, Chris. If I could have gotten on a plane out tonight, I would have, but it's snowing like crazy. Bern, Zurich, Basel. Everything in range is shut down and, with the trains delayed, anything that can still fly is just too far in topography like this.”

“I understand.” I said, having to swallow between each word to get it out. “What's going on, Dad? Is mom…”

Mrs. Pierce looked calm when she broke in forcing me to look at her as she whispered. “She's not hurt, Chris. It's a clinic, not a hospital.”

“Dad?” I said, trying to keep my voice under control, but it was no use. The pitch was already too high.

The line went dead silent for several seconds, and then there was a little pop followed my father's voice talking quickly. “… the hell you will. I've listened to everyone for two years about what was best and I've gone along with whatever you said. I have a son in trouble now and he deserves to hear it from me or his mother…”

There was a pause in which you could actually hear my dad staring at the doctor. “Chris?”

“I'm still here, Dad.”

“Chris, listen to me. Like I said, this is something that I wanted to tell you in person but I just can't make it tonight. It's not a really bad thing, so I don't want you to get upset, but I still don't want you to have to wait any more. This whole thing was stupid from the jump, so I'm going to tell you now over the phone and I want you to just listen carefully to what I have to say.”

“Okay.” I said, just as frightened as when I thought Mom had been hurt.

“Chris, do you remember that last summer, about three years ago when Mom and I went down to New York to visit my friend, and to take in a couple of plays?”

“Yes sir. You came home the next day.”

“That's exactly right, Chris. That was the time that we were walking to the cars and we were about to get mugged by some kids on the street, when the cop car just showed up.”

“I remember, Dad. Mom was really upset, and you guys came home early. You guys already told me about this. Is Mom there with you, Dad?”

“Not yet, Chris, she's coming. I wanted to talk to you first. But that is right, that's the night I was talking about. I'm sorry to say that that was not the first time that something like that happened to your mother.”

“Sir?” I wanted to ask more, but that was all I got out.

“You remember that your mother spent most of her teenage years in schools, like you…”

I grunted, and started to confirm that I knew all of this, but dad ignored me.

“So, even though she had been all over the world, most of the time she really led a very sheltered existence.”

I suddenly felt my eyes filling up and I didn't even know why.

“About a year before I met her, your mother was walking back to her apartment one evening when she was attacked by a group of punk kids.”

“Oh no,” I whispered. Barely a whisper.

Mrs. Pierce had her hand on my shoulder, only this time she was rubbing it, but I hardly even noticed.

“Well they... they hurt her, Chris. She spent almost a month in the hospital, just because of the damage they did, and although they caught the little bastards, they didn't do near enough to them for what they did to your mother. Ever since then, she's always been uncomfortable around young men she doesn't know.”

“Dad…” It just came out.

“So you see, Chris, when that thing happened in New York, she just ...”

I started to cry now. It felt like my insides were being ripped out and I could hardly breathe at all.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“She didn't want anyone to know, Chris. Especially you. You were too young and no woman would want it to be common knowledge. She started getting worse and by that September...” He paused.

I started to sob freely now. I knew. I finally understood.

Dad was talking fast and most earnestly now. “Chris It wasn't your fault, you didn't do anything…”

“The pool?… Dad? Did I hurt her?” I couldn't see or get anything else out because of the sobs.

“Chris? Chris….” He kept trying but I couldn't hear him until he said very loudly, “With all due respect, shut up… Yeah, I know it's your God damned phone, but I paid for all the things. Chris?”

I made a noise that was more a noise a wounded animal would make than a word. I'd hurt her, and she…

“Chris, Please listen…”

I moaned, not hearing him at all, “Please God, no Dad. I'm so sorry. I…”

“You didn't hurt your mother Chris. It wasn't anything you did. She loves you, and she knows how much you love her. She knows” Dad's voice sounded like he was crying too. “This is why she didn't want you to know, Chris," he finished helplessly.

He took several seconds before he continued.

“She was just frightened. That was the problem, Chris. She knew you'd never hurt her, and she loves you twice as much as anyone else, even me. She just couldn't control it. She panicked, and when she swung at you, and she couldn't stop herself, it scared her so bad she cried for days.

"As you grew older… you got bigger. Chris, she didn't even want you to know, because she knew how badly it would hurt you. She begged and begged me, she made me promise never ever to let you know, because it wasn't you. She wasn't really afraid of you, or of anything else as much as she was afraid of hurting you. That's what you need to remember.”

“She's afraid of me now!” I whined, even though I'd tried to ask more clearly.

Mrs. Pierce pulled me to lean against her as I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't have to stare at the phone any more.

“Not you Chris.” Mrs. Pierce whispered to me.

Dad started talking again. “That's right. It never was you, Chris. It was those others, who if there is any justice, will rot in hell forever. As you grew older, your mother just felt more nervous. She didn't even tell me about that for over a year.”

He sounded so bad

“Chris?” My dad asked. “Chris?”

Mrs. Pierce answered for me. “He hears you, Mr. Morgan.” Her voice had lost its softness, and only sounded angry. “We may have to cut this short.”

I found my voice then, crying just as hard. “No! I need to speak to my mother,” I told her. Then to the phone. “Where's mom, Dad? I need to talk to her. Please!”

“I know, Chris. She's right outside the door, but Chris, I need you to calm down before I can bring her in. She's already feeling so bad, and so guilty… about what I've done to you… You have to be strong Chris. For Mom.”

“What?” I heard my stomach knot up, even as I heard myself ask in a flat tone. “Be strong?”

“Chris…” Mrs. Pierce said, trying to get my attention, but it was only about three years too late.

I shouted at the phone. “What for?! Is that really your whole fucking plan, Dad! No matter what, I'm just supposed to be…”

Mrs. Pierce pulled my arm, and made me look at her. She wasn't even mad. There were tears in her eyes too, which silenced me, as she was shaking her head to tell me not to. My head was on her shoulder before I knew it.

It was several minutes, and a bottle of water, before I could even begin to compose myself..

“Chris?” It was my mother.

She didn't sound anything like her other calls. The deadpan, pleasant little responses were gone. She was crying too.

“Mom? Are you Okay?” Another sob escaped me, and kept me from saying how much I missed her.

“No Chris. I wouldn't let them give me any medicine tonight so I could talk to you. I've been so worried about you. I miss you so much and when your father told me about how bad you've been feeling. I can't sleep, or eat…”

“Mom.” I gasped when I'd taken in enough air. “I'm so sorry, you don't have to be afraid of me, I'm not like…”

“Chris?” She had to call my name again and again to get me to stop apologizing and to pay attention. “I'm the one who's sorry. I know….”

She just stopped then. We both did.

My dad spoke into the phone to me. “Chris, I don't know if we can ever make this up to you. I don't think we ever can, but I promise you we will all try.”

My mother spoke then, more clearly than she had before, but obviously not to me. “I want you to go get my son!”

“I wil --” The line went dead with another little pop. My mouth was hanging open as I stared at the phone in horror. It was several seconds before I heard the second pop, and my mother say: “… and what's more, doctor, you're fired. Don't you ever cut off a call to my son again. Chris? Chris, honey?”

She sounded so much like her old self, I couldn't help myself. “Mom? Is that really you?”

“Oh God, Chris, yes. It's Mummy. I needed to tell you, I'm so sorry.”

“Mom, please don't. I understand.”

“NO! You don't, Chris, just listen to me. The things at school. Because I was so scared. It's my fault. If I'd encouraged you more to be like other boys… I'm the one who wanted you to like music and art, and to just be nicer. It's my fault. You were always so smart and so sweet, and I was so proud of you.”

“Mom?”

It took several seconds for what she was saying to sink in, and she was finished talking before it did.

“Mom?” I tried to get her to talk to me again.

“Yes Chris?” She sounded so tired, and so sad.

“That's not your fault.”

“Chris, I'm sorry, but I didn't realize what I was --”

“Mom, That's not your fault. Here at school. It has nothing to do with you.”

It sounded like she wasn't crying any more. “I'm Sorry, Chris. I really am. About everything, and we will talk about it when I see you. Please don't cry any more sweetheart. I've cried enough for all of us. I love you so much, and I'm so sorry you've been so alone.”

“I'm not alone, Mom. Mrs. Pierce, she looks after us. Doctor Pope is a lot like you said your grandfather was, he's funny, and he's always nice, even though he tries so hard not to show it. Miss Lynn…” I choked up.

“I know they are wonderful people, but I miss you too much to care about them now, Chris. Now I really have to go. It's so late here, and I have such a terrible headache. I will see you soon, so please don't cry any more. Everything will be better soon. Your father and I promise.”

“Okay.” I promised, sure that I'd cry the rest of the night.

“Mom?”

“Yes Chris?”

“Is it nice where you are?” I asked, choking up again, because this suddenly hurt worse than anything else. I just suddenly hated to think of her locked up in some awful castle looking place. “Are you happy there?”

“It's very pretty, Chris. My apartment looks over an Arm der Schá¼ss. It's part of the Suze River. It's more like a canal than like the rivers back home, but it's very pretty in the winter. I can see a little of Lake Biel from the top floor, and your father and I go there to walk sometimes. It's all very pretty, but I can never be happy until I can see you. Now, I want you to try and get some rest. Good night Chris. I love you so much.”

“I Love you too mom.” I tried to keep her from knowing I was still weeping, almost uncontrollably, but it was hard. “Dad?”

“Right here Chris.”

“I'm sorry, Dad. I love you too.”

“Me too, Son. It wasn't much of a plan. I'll see you soon.”

“Okay. Night.” I said, short of breath.

German accent broke in “Before you promise something so foolish, you should consider…”

"What are you talking about?" My father snapped at him, but Mrs. Pierce interrupted them both rather forcefully.

“Doctor Merz?”

Sounding even more German than before, he answered. “Yes Mrs. Pierce?”

“Two quick things Doctor. The first is that Chris, an extraordinarily polite and gifted child, is still listening. The second is that although I'm sure you've achieved many impressive degrees and certificates from all the best schools from Stockholm to Barcelona, in my broad experience of people, I just have to say you are quite possibly the biggest ass I've ever encountered and I've had the misfortune to have encountered a rather large and distinguished cross section from that particular list.”

There was a strangling sound for several seconds “I beg your…?” He gurgled.

Mrs. Pierce, responded even more quickly. “Oh! I'm sorry. Let me help you understand in some languages you are perhaps more comfortable with. Un á¢ne. Ein Esel. I'm sure I could give you a rough translation in Russian and Japanese as well if those would be helpful doctor, but here in America we just call people like you, an Ass.”

“Ube--”

She hit the button cutting the call, before she looked at me. “I'm pretty sure, that if he had anything worthwhile to say, it would have taken him less than two years to get around to it.”

She was still looking at me, as she handed me another tissue, and took one for herself. All I could do was to look back, too emotionally wrung out to be in shock.

“I'd love to sick Miss Lynn, and her judo on that guy. Don't you dare repeat that, Chris.”

“No, ma'am.”

“Are you Okay?”

“Yes ma'am. I just can't believe they didn't tell me.”

She nodded and looked at her hands for several moments.

“That's the problem with all lies, Chris. Even if they start for the best of reasons, they tend to grow and take on a life of their own. I've done it myself. Very seldom, but I have. I've regretted it every time because, in the end, it always caused more problems than it would have caused to have just told the truth.”

She looked at me again, for several more moments. “You will too, in your time. Even though you now know, much better than most, the damage it can cause. It's what it is to be human. Right now, it's just your parent’s turn. I'm sure two years ago, this was only supposed to be a matter of a few weeks, or a month at most.”

I nodded.

“Are you hungry, Chris? Do you want me to wake up the kitchen staff?”

“No ma'am.” I smiled weakly. “They have to get up early. If you don't mind, ma'am, I'm feeling very tired. I'd just like to go to bed.”

“I'm headed that way, myself. I'll walk you.”

She didn't say anything more as we walked toward my wing and, with her hand on my arm, up the stairs. There were one or two kids in the hall, and even more in the library, but most just steered clear while watching me through the corners of their eyes. Only one brave one, even said hello.

In my room, I sat on the bed, and was looking at my feet when Mrs. Pierce bent down to pull off my shoes, and when I lay down to put my head on the pillow, she laid a quilt my mother had sent over me.

I watched her for a little while, looking around my room. She hung up the shirt on the doorknob, and then the skirts on the door. In the bathroom, she seemed to be looking at the clothing drying on the rod, and going through the makeup and things, She tidied up in there as well, before she came back out and sat to log into my computer.

     “ ... No John, She's just very tired. She practically passed out.”

“She?” He asked.

“Well you heard what Doctor Cross said just as well as I did, but however you think is best. I'm sure he'll be fine then. Poor kid may be as tough as any adult but he has just had the stuffing knocked out of him.”

Mrs. Pierce was sitting in my chair, with a book in her lap. A man in blue jeans and a tweed jacket…, oh God, Doctor Pope!

“Headmaster.” I tried to get up, but he wouldn't let me.

That's when I realized the nurse was standing in the door, packing up her stuff in a small bag.

He spoke softly but cheerfully. “I'm sorry Chris. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Sir, I…”

“Don't worry, Chris. It's a social call. I just wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine, sir. My mother was in a mental hospital.”

He sighed and nodded his head.

As promised, he just took a breath, and started in. “We had a letter almost two years ago, from the doctor in charge, saying that it might do irreparable harm to you and your mother if we interfered. Your father told me that he felt he had no choice but to follow the advice. That's where Mrs. Pierce went that second Christmas, to see your family. I argued with him about it too, several times. Damned silly business, if anyone asked me, but our hands were tied. Practically had to sit on Mildred to keep her from strangling people, especially that next time your father visited. With that letter in hand, however, our options were nil. We didn't know what we could do, and Doctor…” He looked at Mrs. Pierce, and frowned.

“Did you really call him an ass?”

“In three languages. I wanted to be sure he understood.”

He chuckled at her, but looked back down at me. “Anyway, if it had just been your father's wishes, we'd have told you, and given him our lawyer's second cousin's wrong number. With that letter from the doctor, though, we had no way at all of knowing if it would actually do the very real harm he said it would. He is, after all, one of the best known and best respected Psychiatric Asses in Europe. Believe me, that was one of the first things I checked. I'm so very sorry, Chris.” The man looked like he wanted to cry too.

I tried to get up again, feeling much more discomfort just then at having the headmaster leaning over my bed, than I felt over some silly doctor, who Mrs. Pierce had already told off in style anyway.

“No, no Chris. You just relax. Big day for anyone. On top of everything else, you deserve to rest a bit at least. I just wanted to check on you... you know, to keep Mrs. Pope happy, and on the off chance that you were awake, to tell you how very sorry I am for my part in all of this.”

Mrs. Pierce said. “I'm sorry too.”

He looked at her very differently then. “No you're not. This was me.”

I didn't try to get up because he was rubbing my arm through the sleeve of the turtleneck. My vest had disappeared.

“Don't worry, Headmaster. I'm sorry I said I was mad at you. I'm not mad any more. Even when I said that, I never believed you did anything. It was that doctor,” I still felt I had to be honest with him, and I very much wanted to, “ ... and my parents. My dad especially for believing his…”

I couldn't say it. Not in front of the headmaster, and not in front of Mrs. Pierce, especially after what they had both already done for me.

“Very mature, Chris, and I understand your meaning. I'd have let it slide just this once, though, because what you think it was, is what I think it was. Mrs. Pierce wasn't quite so nice. Are you going to be Okay?”

“Yes sir. I don't need a suicide watch or anything. It's not like that. It's just the thought of my poor mother…” That hurtful image of her being locked someplace horrible stopped me, but I believed that Dad would never let that happen.

He nodded, and looked at the floor for a second before looking back at me.

“If you want, I'd be happy to take you to the hospital, and have them check you out. Not because I think you are a candidate for a suicide watch, Chris, but because we care about you. No one should have to deal with this. Especially not someone your age. If there is any way I can help, I will.”

“I know, sir. I'm fine now. My dad will come soon, and we'll talk then. Thank you for that.”

He nodded, and I looked up at Mrs. Pierce.

“And thank you too, ma'am.”

“My pleasure, Chris. I'm not sure if your father will be in shape to fly back, when I've…”

The headmaster looked at her, and she just stopped to look at the backs of her fingers.

“You get some sleep.” He said. “I've excused you from your classes for today and tomorrow. You got another 4.0 on your surprise Latin quiz today, by the way. Congratulations.”

I looked at the clock. It was after twelve. I couldn't help it. I grinned.

“There you are. If you still feel up to going out tomorrow, I'd like you to take someone with you. Otherwise, and unless you are one-hundred, and I do mean one-hundred percent, I'd like you to stay here.”

“I'm really fine, sir. I'm going to get to see my mother and father after all. I'm much better than fine.”

He looked at Mrs. Pierce.

Mrs. Pierce just held up the book a little. “I'll be here for a little while longer. I never realized that neutrinos morph between two forms as they travel from the sun to the earth. Fascinating.”

“Don't stay up all night, Mildred. I need you tomorrow, to get the reception hall opened up and that circus organized. More damned silly business.”

She nodded. “I just think he needs… someone right now.”

The Head patted her hand, and we both watched him go. After that, Mrs. Pierce smiled at me before picking up the book…

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

Chapter VII

     "Ha… Hello?"

"Chris, are you awake? It's me, your chemistry teacher."

I tried to sit up quickly to look at the clock. Oh my god, I'd overslept. I couldn't. My head was spinning, and even if that were not the case, the bright sun would have prevented me from seeing the clock anyway.

She told me. "The Nurse said that she snuck in to check you this morning, and you were sleeping through your Wednesday morning breakfast but that we should get you up for lunch."

"What time is it? My alarm is turned off."

"It's almost eleven. Mrs. Pierce said that you've been approved for a pass off campus, and she asked me If I'd mind going with you." She sounded surprised at the reversal of fortune. "That must have been some phone call." She finished.

My head felt so fuzzy. "It was. I don't even know how to tell you about it."

"Don't worry. When I called to check on you last evening, Mrs. Pierce answered the phone. She filled me in on only a little, but I heard enough. I am very sorry to hear but I'm so glad it's all finally out in the open. Now, maybe, you can feel free to smile more, if you want."

I did.

"So how about it. You can go but you have to go in normal clothes."

"Ma'am?"

"Boy's clothes, Chris. No wandering around town in one of Mr. Kinsley’s tutus."

I giggled too.

"I won't. I've got to go in for a two o'clock appointment."

"Appointment?"

"Hair."

I thought she muttered something, but I wasn't sure. "I can't go that early, Chris. I have classes but I can meet you in town about four thirty, if you want, and we can grab a pizza or something."

"I would like that. I may need some help with some of the things but I'll probably just meet you back here first. I'm going to buy your Christmas present and I can't let you see it."

She groaned "You can't do that, Chris, and you know it. What? Are you trying to find a new way to get me fired every week?" She chuckled a little.

"I know. I'd sure like to be able to though. I'll call you when I get back."

She seemed fine with that. "Okay, Chris. Don't wear your uniform, either."

"I never wear that to town. I don't have that kind of death wish."

"Could have fooled me. Now, get up, and get to the dining room before Mrs. Pierce sends out a search team."

"I will, ma'am. I'm starved."

I knew I'd have to hurry but I still went for the bathtub first. I felt a little stiff, and like I just needed the hot water. My room was even neater than usual.

My cell was blinking, so I picked it up and looked at it on the way.

I had a text message in there, from Dad. '2 ft snow. Maybe Sun. Sorry.'

I sighed and set the phone on the toilet seat but it really didn't bother me. I knew he was coming even if it might not be 'til Spring. Being an ocean away was something I was used to.

The phone beeped again.

'Mz P is Funny Dad'

He was on now. I quickly typed in "Can I call?" before I began running more hot water in the tub.

It beeped pretty fast.

'Mtg Sorry'

He was in a meeting. People were there.

I typed in "I need to spend some money" and waited.

"Much?"

I bit my lip and typed "5 0 0". Then bit it again and hit another zero before I hit send.

It took long enough that I checked that the message was in the sent file. I was washing when it beeped again.

'Funny U @ Sch?'

"Y" As usual, I thought.

I pulled the plug and watched till the whirlpool formed before I got out to get dressed.

'1 Min C. Room?'

"Y" I was in my room.

I didn't know if he was going to call or instant message my computer, but he sometimes did that or...

My phone rang.

"Dad?"

I heard "… Jesus Morgan, call your kid. This crap can wait that long…”

Dad spoke then. “Chris?"

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to bother you. It could have waited a little."

"Don't worry about that. If I'm with the Pope and the President, and the Prime Minister is serving tea, I still have a couple of minutes for you. What's going on?"

"Did I interrupt anyone important?"

"The Pope and The President, but the Prime Minister is almost done with the tea." He joked, but I got the message.

Brevity edifies.

"I want to do some shopping. I need some clothes and some jewelry and stuff for the dance. The dance stuff will probably be a lot. More than I ever spend."

Dad wasn't annoyed. "That's okay, Chris. Some of these guys’ kids buy speedboats and don't say anything. You've never spent more than a movie ticket. I don't mind, but jewelry? Are you Christmas shopping? What kind of jewelry"

I still had to hurry. "Not much. A necklace or two, a bracelet maybe but I'd really like to get some earrings. Nice earrings."

Dad was silent for a long time. It made me nervous.

"I suppose it's too much to hope you are going way overboard on a girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"I think I understand. Chris, we've already pulled the limit we had set on your card because we thought you might have to get on a plane over here. If you need to do some things and you really feel like you can't wait for me, then go ahead. I trust you, Chris. Just don't go completely crazy, or do anything permanent."

"I won't, Dad. Thank you for understanding."

"I love you, Chris. I have to go though."

"I love you too, Dad."

I saw by the clock on the phone that I really had to hurry. I threw on my jeans and stuff as fast as I could before I grabbed the rest of the things I'd need.

I was practically jogging down the hall toward the dining room amid such calls as "Oh! Look! Royalty! He lives!" "Chris is styling a sort of grunge, all American hero look that perfectly captures…"

I couldn't understand how anyone could think I was the one who was nutty.

Lunch was some kind of Stroganoff thing but it was delicious as usual and I ate a fair portion. The ladies looked pleased no end but the guys at my table kept their hands tucked under their arms till I was finished. I just sneered and showed them my choppers.

     Miss Lindsay seemed to be the only one who was surprised, when I turned up at the office to sign myself out near twelve-thirty. She came over with a clipboard and pulled a sheet to leave a blank form on top.

"I didn't really expect to see you, Chris."

"No, ma'am." I tried to smile to let her know I was really better than she seemed to be thinking.

She looked at me, worried, but nodded. "Where to?" She poised the pen over the page.

"Clothes and maybe a little Christmas shopping. I'd planned to hit the little shops down town." I'd decided that, because there were more kids in the mall places, probably even some from Saint Mary's. "I also have an appointment at the hair place down there too."

"Which place?"

"Style Palace."

She looked at me a little strangely but didn't speak.

"After that, I might head to the Mall. Cheaper underwear and stuff."

She held out her hand. "Phone?"

I pressed the keys to display the number on the phone and handed it to her. She wrote it down, and then closed the phone before opening it again to look at the battery charge. She dialed the number she'd written and, as soon as my cell chirped, handed it back to me.

"Just a moment, Chris." She said, and walked back into Mrs. Pierce's office.

Mrs. Pierce came out almost immediately but she had papers in both hands. "How are you feeling, Chris?" She asked, setting the papers down, and looking only at me.

"Very well. Thank you, ma'am." I smiled at her and it probably looked good, because I had plenty of reasons to smile at her.

"Are you planning on going out alone?"

"Yes, ma'am. Only at first though. I'll probably be back here before the end of the day and Miss Lynn and I will go out and get a pizza at the mall later."

That made her nod her approval.

"Good, Chris. Transportation?"

"I'd planned on taking the bus to the hair place and then, if I have to, I'll take a cab to the mall or back here."

"Have you a lot of cash on you? You boys tend to take too much."

I smiled. "No, ma'am. I should be fine." She didn’t want me to get rolled or for other kids have the same happen to them.

"Okay, Chris." She initialed the form. "But I have one condition. You have any problems at all, and I mean any, you call me. Excuses will not be tolerated."

"No, ma'am. I'll be fine. Thanks to you."

She smiled again and nodded before she turned to pick up the papers. "Miss Lindsay, did the heating people call back yet? We need to have the heat on over there now."

"No ma'am. I'm sorry, would you like me to call again."

"No, Miss Lindsay, I'd like you to call everyone in the book. The first one to get it on, I'll pay…"

I nodded to Miss Lindsay, who smiled, and got out of there.

     As I sat down on the bus, I landed on the little purse I'd hung on its strap under the same grey coat, causing an older couple to look at me.

There were only myself and the two old people on the bus as we pulled away. I'd never seen very many riders, even though only a couple of buses ran out this way. A lot more ran toward the mall on the other side of the town center. All of them were nice and clean and quiet. Some of the guys had to have rides but I didn't mind the buses at all.

It would be one p.m., by the time I got there. Just enough time to breathe a sigh of relief. As we got closer, I turned to watch the windows of the little shops lining the main street.

The bus stopped on a corner about two blocks away from The Style Palace, but I had plenty of time.

As the bus roared away, I could see that there were several other stores that looked promising, but the jewelry store just across the street looked more so. I'd planned on getting a few more things at the mall but I also wanted to buy a couple of nice things too.

The girls at St. Mary's always wore nice jewelry and not fake nice jewelry either. Even the boys at my school had those things. I wanted to make sure I fit in. No three carat stones, mind you, just something small and pretty, but nice too.

As I walked, I pulled the locket out, to lie on top of my turtleneck.

There was an older woman cleaning a case, so I waited. I worked myself that way slowly as I looked in several of the cases. Much of what was there was not what I had in mind, polished rocks and things, and one had two tiaras that had to be fake, because they looked like the crown jewels or something. The next case had watches for men, that were so big and bulky I'd have had to wear them on my leg. The girl’s watches were kind of pretty and there was one that I liked.

Closer to the back, I found the earrings.

"Hello. Off from school?"

I jumped a little, because I had been looking carefully at pairs of earrings in the case, and I didn't really see her coming until a second before she spoke.

She smiled. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, ma'am. I'm the one who is sorry for interrupting you. I was trying to wait. I can see that you're very busy."

"You are a very polite … boy." She said looking at the locket on my shirt. "I'm just trying to catch up a little. The girls in the evening don't spend much time cleaning I'm afraid. So tell me now. You are playing truant today, and had to duck in here to avoid the cops?" She smiled but she looked out the window too.

"No, ma'am. I have today off and I'm shopping for some things I need."

"Christmas shopping? For your mom?" She asked her eyes looking me over.

I could feel myself blush, but only a little. I could try and tell her I was shopping for my mother, but I just didn't want to hide, or to lie.

I thought about it too long.

"Are you alright?" The woman asked me stepping closer. "Is your mother or father with you?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm fine. I was just thinking. My parents are in Switzerland. May I please look at these."

"Those are real diamond earrings. So, you're alone?"

"Yes ma'am, that’s what I’m looking for."

"I don't suppose there would be any harm. How did you get here?"

"The bus."

She laughed as if she thought I was making a joke and I suppose it was kind of funny. She looked like she wanted to ask if it had been a wet ride from Switzerland and I guess I smiled too.

"Here you go." She slid them over but her eyes never left me, as if I were a mystery to break up her day. I was half wondering if she thought I might run for the door.

"May I see these too?"

Her smile faded, and she looked at me for a long time, but she never the less reached in for the other pair of earrings.

"These are much prettier. They sparkle more."

She nodded. "That's right. We don't keep may of these in the cases, but these are blue white diamonds."

"What's the difference?" I asked, not knowing anything about such things.

The woman laughed at my naiveté. "About three times the price per carat in that size."

I looked down at them again. "I don't think the really big ones look very nice."

"Me either." She said, looking at me rather oddly.

"They’re an expensive gift, even for your mother."

"I know. My mother's been ill. That's why she's in Biel. I haven't even seen her for a while." I told her, unsure why.

"Oh. Well they are nice, but…" She just looked at me. "Are you one of the kids from Saint Andrew's?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"I thought it was a high school?" She sought, looking me up and down. "Aren't you a little young?"

"It's a preparatory school, ma'am. They take kids at any age, as long as they can do the work. When I started two years ago, I was one of the youngest."

"You've been in high school for two years?"

"Yes ma'am. Just a little more, because I started just before Christmas a few years ago, so it's about two years. May I please ask, how much are these?"

She was just looking, and looking. Finally she decided to look under the tag.

"These are just under a carat total count, point nine, and are sixteen hundred dollars They are very fine stones. How sick is your mom?"

I looked up, and it was obvious she was feeling bad for me.

"She's getting better now, but she's been sick for over a year. May I please see the ones that are a little smaller…"

She looked like she wanted to smirk, and shake her head at me while saying I told you so, but she was nice, so she reached into the case for one of the little pairs tucked way over to the side.

"No ma'am. Not those. These." I said pointing to the pair that lain just next to the nice pair. They sparkled too.

The woman hesitated but reached for the pair I had pointed out.

"These are square?" I realized.

"That's called a princess cut."

It was silly but that made me grin.

"Do you have any that are about this size, like the pretty ones, but round like the second pair?"

She shook her head just then, but I knew she wasn't telling me that she didn't have what I wanted.

"Honey, I'm never too busy to help, but… are you serious? Do you really want to get a gift like these for you mother? I don't mind showing you. Not at all. If you'd just like to know a little about the stones and things, it really is kind of interesting."

She started by putting the first pair away and pulled out the pair I had not seen.

"No, ma'am." I sighed. "They're not really a gift. The school is having a dance. And…" I didn't quite know how to put it.

I looked at the two pairs together.

"It's a formal dance, a ball really, that they want us to go to, so we know how."

"I heard. I saw you looking at the tiaras. I put them out there, because some of the girls from Saint Mary’s were in looking."

"Are they going to wear tiaras?" I asked, my expression causing her to chuckle.

"No. Not that I know of, anyway. They tried them on but decided they might be a little much."

I could tell that she was still trying to make up her mind about me.

"Those are fourteen hundred." She said. "The dance? Are you looking for something for your girlfriend?" She asked, but her tone told me that she didn't think that was likely either.

I pushed them back slowly and tried to smile again, but it was hard, because of the way she was watching me now. I shook my head no.

"If it's not too much trouble, could I see a pair a little smaller than these little ones?"

She started to take the sixteen hundred dollar pair too, but I put my hand out.

"No. I still like those."

That caused her composure to break a little. I guess it got the better of her. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I looked at the stones she pulled out from somewhere under the counter and realized that they were just what I wanted.

Looking at the woman, I slid the large pair and the smaller pair over. To me they would be perfect together. "Do you pierce ears?"

"What?” She seemed a little shocked. “Um, yes, honey, but not on someone as young as you without a parent. You have to be sixteen."

"I am sixteen ma'am."

"You go to Saint Andrew's? Not Saint Mary's"

"Yes ma'am."

She didn’t move, obviously knowing that some of the guys had a lot of money to spend, and trying not to be rude, but obviously still feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, ma'am…"

"I think you should call me Mary." She reached over and handed me a card. "I know you may be able to afford it but perhaps you should come back with your parents…"

I slipped my card and My ID onto the display case and, at the sight of the color of my card, her color turned pale.

She nodded. "Which pair do you like."

"These two." I pushed the large and small pairs toward her.

"And they are for you?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am. We are not supposed to give out too much information to strangers." I looked down, "Mrs. Sommes, but yes ma'am. I want them for the dance, unless you think they will look to big on me?"

"Both pairs?" She asked, looking at the credit card again.

"Yes, please."

"Will that be all?" She said in surprise.

"No, ma'am. If you have the time, I wanted to get a necklace too, but I… I'm not sure what goes with what. I want it to be simple but pretty."

She started laughing, as she placed my earrings behind her and pulled out a tray from an adjacent case. “Tell me, what color are you wearing?”

“Royal-blue velvet.”

She laughed and shook her head.

      A woman who came out from the back to help Mrs. Sommes was even more skeptical.

Mrs. Sommes looked from me down to the small pile of jewelry on the counter, that now included a simple gold ring bracelet, and a pretty double diamond pendant necklace whose stones matched the earrings.

She looked at my ID, and at the card, and to her credit she didn't make any faces.

"I have to call your parents, if you want to do this. I’m sorry, but I’ve never sold anything like this to someone so young."

"My father already knows, ma'am. I asked for permission before I came. I doubt you can reach him. He travels every day, and my mother's in the hospital."

The woman from the back said. "Perhaps you should call the school?"

The look on my face told them that I didn't want them to do that, I was sure, but I didn't say not to. I understood.

"Are you sure you can afford this much?" Mrs. Sommes asked, now as worried for me as she was about anything else.

I nodded. I almost told her my dad could, but hesitated to be so open.

I was sure the other woman wanted to refuse but she took the card and swiped it while entering the total. She seemed surprised when 'approved' popped up instantly.

Mrs. Sommes looked over her shoulder before speaking to me. "I will have to verify the sale with the company that issued the card." I think she was trying to give me the chance to back out. "They don't give us any information but they will confirm so that we are protected."

I wanted to say that it was my card. "I understand." I tried to look as if I did this all the time.

She picked up the phone and dialed, before turning about to look at me. I tried to look in the cases in front of me but my eyes just naturally rose by themselves to watch her back. I didn't blame her, because she was very nice about it, but it still made me feel bad.

I heard the words 'verify', and 'minor', and 'such a large purchase.'

I saw her eyes dim a little as she said, "I'll hold."

She covered the mouthpiece and mouthed "I'm sorry."

I nodded. Obviously my expression had not been as nonchalant as I’d hoped.

"Hi, this is… Oh." She listened for a moment. "So you are already aware…" She nodded into the phone, like most people will, then her brows lifted. "I see. Thank you. Oh, you're welcome. Of course we would check. Thank you."

She was looking at me, as oddly as the other woman was looking at her.

"Chris, come on in the back. I won't charge for the piercing. Technically we can do this for a sixteen year old without their mother but only in the ears. Are you sure you want to do this? I'm still a little uncomfortable."

"Yes, I am."

As I walked, I heard the other woman whisper. "What?"

"Unlimited." Mary said quietly.

     Getting your ears pierced doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Mary and the other girl, Stephanie I think, just talked a lot about what I wanted, the larger one in the lower ear, and the smaller just above and behind. I also told them that I always liked the idea of three earrings in each ear, if they fit, which cause them to tug and feel my earlobes again. Finally, they pulling out a pen and a little plastic gauge.

Even they said they were pretty, once they were in. The girl, Stephanie, asked if I wanted to wear the necklace. I said no. I liked the locket my Mother had given me just fine.. However, Mary surprised me by taking the necklace out of the box and slipping it around my neck. She dropped it inside my turtleneck. “It’s safer.” She said.

Then, they spent so much time lecturing me on how to keep the piercings clean, it was after two o’clock before she would let me off the chair.

I stopped to look in one of the oval magnifying mirrors near the register as they gathered my stuff. I smiled apologetically as, on impulse, I pulled out the compact and lip-gloss and then the mascara.

Stephanie just said "Unbelievable." before she walked away.

I didn't look up, as I quickly put on just a little mascara, but Mary said softly to me, "I’m sorry. I'll talk to her."

When I thanked her for a good-bye, she just said "Good luck, Chris,” as she handed me a little bag with the boxes and the bracelet.

      I'd never thought I'd be so late, but it was almost fifteen minutes after two when I got to the door of The Style Palace. I walked in and instantly got the attention of everyone there. Some women looked away quickly enough, but some continued to stare, even as a dark haired woman walked up to me briskly from the other side of the room.

"You Chris?"

"Yes, ma'am. I 'm sorry I'm late, I got…"

"That's Okay." She said and, once she was close, leaned over and finished softly with, "I kind of thought you wouldn't show up at all."

She looked around at the faces watching us.

"The computer's back here. The damned thing picked up some kind of boogieman. A thousand dollar paperweight. Come on, I don't have much time."

I answered "Ma'am?" I didn't have any idea of what she was talking about but I followed her even without hope of actually catching up.

Once in the office, she didn't even sit down before turning. "Sorry. More bad news than the local paper and CNN together, in here.” She was looking me over just like everyone else. "You know why I asked you to stop in?"

I mumbled "Because you are so busy on Saturday?" I asked hopefully.

She smiled "Well that too, I suppose. You said you go wanted to have us give you the works treatment but you also said you were calling from the school up the road. That's got to be Saint A's. I really appreciate your being honest and telling me that you are a boy. Of course, I'd have never figured that out on my own." Her smile became an impish grin.

I nodded, glad that she had said it pleasantly.

"I don't really care, most of the time, but you sounded pretty young. You also called just in time and I have an opening a little later in the day on Saturday but I've got a full book for Saturday morning. So, if you are playing a joke, I'm just not interested."

"No, ma'am. I'm not."

"I'm Jessie, and don't you ever call me ma'am again. I'm not that old and I might just sock you."

"I'm sorry, ma … Jessie."

"Better. You said your hair might be too short, so I wanted to see it while I still had time to give the slot away."

She ran her fingers though it, tugging it at the back, to make sure it was really attached, I suppose.

"At least you use conditioner."

"Yes, m … Jessie…"

"Good one." she responded without looking away from my hair.

I tried to explain. "I got a little bottle in the mall and it said to use it every day and …"

"Good. I think your hair is long enough and plenty thick enough that we won't have any problem. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean nice makeup and all but are you sure?"

"Yes. Very sure."

"You said you had a picture?"

I pulled out the leaf from a magazine. It had a nice style to it, I thought, and the girl looked really cute.

"I need your advice though." I said softly. I expected her to laugh at me.

"Humph!" She said looking at it and at me. "Believe it or not, that's kind of the thing that I would have done for you anyway had it been up to me. How did you pick this picture?"

She had my chin, to look at my ears. She seemed to be about to reach for them, when she asked. "Are these new, or are they infected? Your lobes are red?"

"New. I just got them for the dance."

"Must be nice." She made a pucker like a whistle but didn't make any noise. She looked at the picture and frowned.

"You haven't told me why you picked this style?" She asked again, abruptly.

"I just like it and I think that girl looks a little like me, so I thought it might work. She looks happy." I added quickly for reasons that Doctor Cross would have to explain.

"She does. This is a good style I'd say, but the color." She shook her head. "It's good but this is a dye and highlights. I'd say no, but it's cute, it's perfect, and you have such pretty eyes. Did you know that girl's eyes, and boy's eyes are just the same, especially when they are young?"

I nodded that I did.

"Well the first thing is, that I don't have anything like the time to do anything like this on Saturday. Can you come back…" She closed her eyes. "around four?"

She wanted to dye my hair today! I was trying to think of some way, but…

"Or even better, tomorrow, late. I may not have the time to do both today and I’d like to get it all done before Saturday."

"Tomorrow is better. I have that day off, too." I said tripping over myself not to have to hide the evidence for another day.

"Must be nice, too. Okay, Chris, but, if you're late tomorrow, don't bother to show up on Saturday, because you won't get a seat. I only have two private areas and I won't wait for you. I assume you've got bucks aplenty?"

I nodded my agreement to her conditions. "I won't be late, Jessie, and I have a card."

"If you catch a ride, you can park in the back and come in that way." She seemed to understand.

"Your school's executioner will be here in the morning tomorrow or I'd suggest you have a ride with her, but I'm booked then too." She giggled.

"Ma'am?"

"Not good, Chris. About as not good as you with a buzz-cut in about a minute."

"I'm sorry. Jessie." I said quickly.

"Okay. I'll let you live." She grinned again "This time. I'm talking about your Mrs. Pierce. I asked her what she did one time, and she told me she ran the dungeon at Saint Andrew's - Assistant to the Chief Executioner. I think she'd had a good day."

Mrs. Pierce. She had to have recognized the name of the Style Palace.

"Several of the women from the school get their hair done here, Chris. I'm not going to lose a good customer over this, am I?"

I sighed, even though I knew I was blushing now for real. "I don't think so, Jessie. Mrs. Pierce knew where I was going. She had to sign my pass."

"Really?" She said raising one brow. "Humph! Always thought she had a good sense of humor." She shook her head again and handed the picture back. "Okay, get out, and call me tomorrow. Two of those ladies are coming in the morning, so don't come in earlier."

"Thank you for doing this, Jessie."

"I wouldn't turn one person away just because another didn't like it."

She looked at me for a moment with a funny look on her face.

She leaned over closer, as if she were going to whisper, and asked much more loudly, "Is there anything else?"

I jumped. "Well, I…"

"Spit it out, Chris. I'm a really important person, you know. " She laughed when she said it.

"Makeup. I have some, but I've read that places like this do makeup, too. If someone could help a little…"

She looked at me. "Where did you get what you are wearing?"

"This is just…"

"It looks nice, Chris. You need more mascara though." She started signing with each word. I don't think they were real sign language, because it looked so funny, and because we were both laughing at that point.

"Where. Did. You. Get. It?" The last 't' was a whole word in itself.

"At the Mall. There was a girl. Donna, I think."

"Ah!" She said, and leaned back to hit a button on the phone. "Rachel?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Rachel sounded bored.

"The book, and you won't think it's so funny when I make you call me that."

Turning back she asked. "Where in the Mall?"

"Macy's, m… Jessie. There was a girl there. I think they did makeovers too but I don't think she really…" I didn't want to finish.

She looked up. At first I thought to measure me for a buzz but she only asked, "Donna?"

"Yes. I think so. Do you know her?"

The receptionist, Rachel, leaned in and handed Jessie the book, looked at me like I'd just materialized out of thin air, and was gone.

After she’d already left, Jessie said. "Thanks Rache. Donna works here too, Chris. Would you like her to help you? We can do it. We don't get as many requests for makeup at a dance like this. Most of the girls your age can do their own, or their friends help. Still I don't suppose any of the boys would help you?" She was shaking her head and making a prune face.

I had to giggle.

"Well, Donna is on but I'll have to see if she can stay a little later. I think she works at Macy's just about every Friday and Saturday, the poor kid."

"I don't…" I started to say but decided to stop. "If someone else is available, that's okay."

Jessie looked at me without any sympathy at all.

"Don't judge her too harshly. I'm sure I understand, but she actually has a talent for this stuff. She could be out in Hollywood right now, if she had gotten any chance to finish school.

"She has a son. Some shit who pretty much raped her in her first year of college, Chris. She works almost every day, now. Her prick parents threw her out, and if it were not for her grandmother taking her in and watching Billy, she'd be toast. I let her sell the makeup here, and work whenever she can, but it’s not nearly enough help.

"Two years ago, she laughed more and smiled more than even I do." She wrinkled her nose, to take some of the sting out, and flipped the pages to write something in the book.

I understood. "I'm, sorry, Jessie. I feel bad. I just thought she didn't like me."

"I kind of figured. In all fairness this," she pointed at me, "someone such as yourself only happens to one of us a few times a year."

"I'm pretty sure she thought I was a girl, at first."

"Really? Well then you must have been late, and pissed her off too!"

She grinned and leaned down to look right into my eyes, like I was a little kid.

"Now, you are sure this is what you want? If one of those boys thinks you are too pretty, and he kicks your ass, I'm going to be completely pissed after all the work I'm putting in."

I blushed again. "No, ma'am. They all like me. They've seen me before. All the guys are very nice to me. None of them would ever do anything like that. Mrs. Pierce is awesome too."

She kissed my cheek!

"You are so cute. I'll just bet she is." She said, running her fingers through my hair again.

"Thank you, Jessie."

"No problem. However! You called me ma'am again, so get out. Call me tomorrow, mid-afternoon."

"I'm sorry, I ..."

"Yeah, yeah. You are very polite, and you can't help it, and they warped your little mind. Get out anyway." She grinned at me and headed back toward a lady in a chair.

I looked at my phone, and couldn't believe it was only two thirty. It had felt like a two-hour Latin mid-term

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

Chapter VIII

     I wanted to check out a store up the street with women's underwear in its window, so I started walking that way looking in windows as I went. None inspired until I finally reached Francine's Intimates, when I saw that there was another store just beyond it with a beautiful dress in the window.

I looked at the sign, which read, ‘Annabella's: Elegance Remembered. Vintage and Consigned Classics.’

The window held what looked like a dress from the mid 1800's. I had to go in.

Inside there were all kinds of clothes, some in racks along the wall but many on display. Obviously it was a season for dresses, because most of those up front were ornate and beautiful gowns.

I must have been looking the other way when riding past here.

Off to one side, one woman was talking to another quietly. They looked busy, so I just started wandering around. I looked first at the dresses up front, which gave the women the time to see me. I just waved that I was in no hurry. I had time now, so I just wandered and looked.

There were dresses of every kind and I was fascinated to see some things that I'd only seen in movies and books. Most of them were more recent than the gowns up front but there was one section of clothes from what looked like the forties. I'd always loved those styles and I couldn't help but reach out to touch.

Some of them surprised me because a couple felt so rough and scratchy. Really scratchy. Others were even more toward the other extreme. One blouse was so silky smooth I could hardly pick it up.

Not paying attention, I almost wandered into the dressing area, which embarrassed me. It must have also caught the shopkeeper's eye, because someone was coming up behind me fast.

"Hi there. You get lost on the way to the vid…?"

I turned around.

"Oh, excuse me Miss, I'm sorry. I saw your jeans, and I assumed you were a…"

Behind her, the older woman, who I'd assumed was the one who worked there, was walking out the door. The thirty-something woman in front of me looked back at her departure and said "Damn."

She was looking at me now, not unpleasantly but not ecstatically either, as she said "Hi, I'm Anna. Do you need some help?"

"I'm sorry. Did that woman leave because of me?"

Anna shook her head. "God, no. She does that every week or so. She wants that dress over there but she expects me to alter it, deliver it, iron it, put it on her, and then write her a check." She laughed. "She's done it for as long as the shop's been opened. She'll be back when she realizes I won't budge. She can afford it easily; she just likes to play the game."

She smiled, which made me feel better.

"That's good. I thought she left because I was a…"

"What? Fashion challenged? Those jeans do make a statement. I thought you were…"

So much for not blushing as much.

Anna stopped and looked at me. "Oh my." She said softly.

I have no idea how long she looked at me, but it was a long time and not a second of it did anything to cool my face and neck.

When she spoke it was very kindly, motherly almost.

"You didn't come in here by accident did you?"

I shook my head.

"Ah. I see." She said and just looked at me some more before saying, "Would you like a drink of water?"

When I squeaked "No," it must have been pretty unconvincing, because she led me back to a water cooler anyway.

I drank.

"You know," she said to me. "if not for those jeans, I wouldn't have guessed."

I wanted to say thank you but I wasn't sure it was appropriate.

"So, what can I do for you, assuming I haven't scared you more than half to death. I'm Anna, again, by the way." She held out her hand.

"I'm Chris." I said back. "Thank you for the drink. I must have gotten a dry throat or something."

Anna nodded.

"I need a dress for school. I have one that I can use but, since I had some time, I wanted to look for one on my own."

"I see." She said. Then immediately she followed it with "No, I don't see… For school?" She looked really puzzled now. "The Winter Ball at Saint Andrew's?"

"You know?"

"Of course I know." She walked over to the counter, and pulled out a paper from a notebook, and read it. "Modern gowns are allowed but must be of formal length. No tea or shorter length dresses will be appropriate. Given the theme and the styles of music and dance, dresses more appropriate to the waltz era should be seriously considered as a first choice…" She looked at me. "Yada, yada, No leather, rubber, vinyl, or see through anything. We've known about it for weeks. Isn't it this Saturday? Day after tomorrow?"

"Yes, ma'am, Anna." I stumbled a little. " I already have a dress to wear but I thought I'd like to look at these."

She looked at me for several moments then.

"You are from Saint A's? " she asked.

I nodded.

She looked at me some more. "Are those real?"

I nodded again, and reached into the collar of the turtleneck, and slipped out the pendant necklace. It might help if she saw.

"Very pretty." She said. Then reached out to hold the pendant in her fingers and then to feel the weight of the chain.

I could only look at her silently.

She just lowered the pendant softly and looked right back.

I guess you can only take so much on any given day. I knew this kind of thing was bound to happen, but I was feeling like I just wanted to go.

"Excuse me, ma'am. I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll just get out of your way."

Her hand was on my shoulder.

"You don't have to do that. I've just never had a, well a boy as young as you, in here. The forties fashions are pretty popular with the guys" She smiled and shrugged. "Besides, the dance is in two days. You are out of time already." She sighed and then looked at me in a whole different way.

"I can tell you've worn makeup before but, if I'm not mistaken, you have never been to a formal dance in a dress." She didn't smile. " Have you?"

I shook my head.

"Do you know what size you are?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, God. You aren't going to get me in trouble here, are you?"

I shook my head. "I've worn skirts at the school before. I helped to teach the guys how to dance."

She looked funny at that but said, "Come on over here for a mo'."

I walked meekly behind her as she headed over to the little counter.

"Here, give me those. Chris, is it?" I nodded and let her take the bag, which she tucked under the counter somewhere.

"Okay, hold your arms like this, sweetie and let me check a few things.

She spent a couple of minutes running a tape over various parts of my body.

"How old are you?" she asked suddenly.

"I turned sixteen in November."

"You are so lucky you look so young.” She made small-talk as she measured. “I had a cousin who used to get so upset because folks thought he was so much younger than he was but I can tell you that girls about five years older than you really like that and those ten years older than you spend billions every year trying to get it back." She started pulling my shirt out, and I had to help her, before she ran the tape around my middle again.

"Cheese and crackers, you'd be small for a girl your age." She stopped to look at me again.

"I'm sorry, if…"

She waved my apology away. "Don't be silly. I thought only smart kids went to that school. That's a good thing that you are so small. A very good thing."

I sighed and said. "I didn't know. Some of us kids just have a lot of money."

Anna laughed like it was really funny.

"So you have a lot of money. Great, 'cause the dresses like you want are mostly so beat up they’re only good for museums and the ones that still look nice enough to wear cost an arm and a leg."

I felt a little embarrassed and unconsciously felt the pendant hanging at my throat as I looked down at the floor.

She chortled a little. "Point taken, Chris. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. Can I take it that, if I can find something really nice, I don't have to worry about money? Please say yes. Please say yes."

I couldn't help but grin. "It's Okay."

"Well all right then. I suppose the worst thing that can happen is your mother makes you bring the dress back. I'll try not to jump up and down, if you promise not to faint if I actually have something that fits the bill. Kindly follow me, Miss Chris." She grinned and I followed like I was told.

"As I was saying, it's really very good that you are tiny. It monumentally increases the risk of other woman wanting to kill you when they see how cute you are going to be, but what most people don't fully realize is that women were much smaller, even seventy years ago, than they are now. Much smaller.

She walked right past the rack and into the back room.

I hesitated at the door causing her to look back and hurry me on.

"Come on, Little Miss. We need you for this. Now can you tell me what you are wearing underneath?"

I flushed a little again. "Aaahm. Pan--"

"Panties?" She asked, smiling.

I nodded. Again.

"Don't be shy, Chris. I'm going to help you if I can and I wear panties every day. Is that all you have on for under things?" She asked, trying to make nothing of it.

"I have a t-shirt too."

"Great. You go in there." She pointed out the dressing area, which looked like an open hall from back here.

"I'll be right back. Hurry now."

I walked into one of the changing rooms and drew the curtain. I was surprised that it had a small plant and a round rug under a nice chair, as well as several mirrors. I began to slip off my shoes.

"Are you shy, Chris?" She asked from the other side of the curtain.

"Yes." I said, sorry that it was so true.

"Funny, but me too. I hate going to the doctor but I'm going to have to help you a little. Here." She handed a package, which looked a lot like the slips I already had, past the curtain.

"Thank you." I said.

"When you need help you tell me, Okay?"

"I will."

"When you have that on and your panties, just come out here to the back room where the carpet is. I'll be right here."

I spent the time that I needed to take out the makeup too. The first thing I did was to put on another thick coat of mascara, followed by just a little more of the face powder. I hesitated to put on the lipstick in place of the gloss, because of the dresses, but I did.

I looked around and I realized that although the lights hung down only a couple of feet above our heads, there was actually another level of racks much higher up.

"Anna?"

"Right over here, Chris." She walked around the end of one rack, pulling a smaller rack on wheels with several dresses on it. "Because time is so short, I'll do most of the picking at first. I've seen all of these in the last week because most of the girls who came in here have looked them over."

"They already picked them over?"

Anna laughed. "Well they tried. The fact is that they are too small for most of the girls nowadays and that's also a good thing for you. If I get something that's a size six or, god help us, an eight, like the dresses out front, eighty percent of the time they are in much worse condition. They get worn. The smaller the better, believe me. Now a size four is pretty rare now, so those few we have…, here you are!" She said from somewhere back there. "… are usually pretty darned nice."

She came toward me. Some of the things were just on hangers but most were in garment bags..

As soon as she came into the light and saw me, she said "Wow. Very nice, Chris. Hair? For the dance? Any plans?"

She took a couple of seconds at the rack, while I ran and got the picture in my purse.

She held it up beside my face and nodded.

"Very nice. I like the reddish color and the highlights. Now I want you to trust me a little. You said the dress you have is blue? How blue?"

"It's a really dark royal blue in a velvet like material. It catches the light."

"Yes, that would be good, especially when your hair has some color. Any trim or accents?"

"Not really.”

She smiled. "Can I assume it's one of the dresses in the drama department?"

I felt funny admitting it but I nodded.

"I thought so. You see, I've worked on lots of the dresses up at the school and the shop here even sold many of them."

My eyes must have widened a little.

Anna continued "My mother did too, before me. She told me that, in the old days, when they put on a play up at Saint Andrew's, there were as many female parts as there were male. Now they have one or two 'girls' but in the old days, it was just more expected."

"I know." I said softly, as she began to unhook the first dress from its hanger.

"Anyway, I was just wondering what kind of thing you were thinking about, because I wanted to know more of what you like. I think, if I check the rack by the door, I may have just gotten in a very pretty dress that's in a similar dark blue color but in silk."

"Really?" I asked her, surprised.

"Really. I only took it from the woman who came in with it, because I thought it would look good in the window for a few weeks but I also thought it was too small and expensive ever to sell. It belonged to a woman who used to work on the stage in New York and she had several of them that were put into really good storage by the company that produced the musical she was in."

"Do you want me to try it on?" I asked, feeling a little apprehensive.

"Not yet. This is my size four." She pulled out a green colored gown. "I want to check your size. It’s faster than trying to convert measurements to various sizes. Hands up."

I held my hands up, and she dropped the green dress over my arms and head.

"I don't like…" I tried to say as I turned toward the mirror.

"Neither do I. Shhhh!"

She was measuring again., and pulling the loose parts of the gown looser, then tighter. Then she did the same all over again.

"I can measure you with a tape but measuring some of these old dresses can be a nightmare. I already know which ones kind of fit like each of these. You have a nice waist and you actually have good hips but the top is problem."

She shook her head, unzipped it, and said, "Drop it to the floor and step out Chris."

She swept it up immediately and put it on a hanger.

"Okay, I have this and it's one of the expensive ones, so we need to be very careful." She unzipped one of the garment bags, and drew out a cream-colored gown, almost a yellow, the color was so rich. It was very pretty.

"Now, I want to look at this. It's one of the nicest we have but it has two problems. Your choice of a darker color was a better one for so late in the season and your colors. It doesn't get much attention, except for one girl, who bought another one that fit better. Oh, and this one would need a very heavy petticoat or even a small hooped skirt, but the top is much smaller than most of the others. I think it was made for a much younger girl who was tall, really."

She turned to me and grinned. "So. Stick 'em up."

It was pretty but she was right it looked too much like Spring. It was really pretty though. I turned to look in the large mirror. I looked like an extra from ‘Gone With The Wind’.

I couldn't keep my eyes off the mirror for several moments until I realized that Anna was looking more at my face than at the dress from where she knelt pulling the skirt into shape.

"Aaahm." I said, cleverly. "You said that your mother used to do this too?"

"Only after she retired. She used to be a pattern maker when we lived in New York. Do you know what that is?"

I had to shake my head and try to keep my eyes off of the mirror.

"If you have a Spring formal, like the Winter one, I'm saving this for you, because it's a perfect fit."

Even I could see that it fit like it had been made for me.

"Okay. Drop it and please try not to step on the skirt. Where was I…? Oh. A pattern maker is someone who can turn a sketch or a picture into a real dress or alter one to suit. They take the idea and make it a real garment. You know…"

She began to wave her hands and speak in a silly peevish French accent.

"Ma Chris. Zis iz all wrong. The fabric should drape and flow in ze exaggerated way that I am moving my arms. Za skirt is on upside down, and ze front should be in ze back. Make it práªt -T."

I was laughing so much, I was afraid I would step on the dress.

"You get the idea. Mom could see something once and make it. She also used to make garments for theater companies and such. When she’d had enough, we moved up here to New England, where she did much the same thing, but under a lot less stress. Custom clothes, and old clothes, alterations. She left the store to my sister and me."

She took the dress, and said "Okay, I'll be right back.

She was back in a few minutes, carrying another bag:

"This just came back from the cleaners and I wanted to check it but I never got the chance. They didn't want to touch it at first but I've done a lot of business there and they did me a favor."

"They didn't want to touch it? Why" I asked, but she just smiled at me as she hung the bag on the rack, before stripping it.

I could only stare. The dress was a royal blue and I could tell it was a silk because, wherever the light hit it, it seemed to change colors from an almost metallic sky blue, to a rich midnight hue. It had much more color than the velvet. It was beautiful.

"Oh, my." I heard myself say.

"Exactly." She said. "Fortunately it was actually crated and stored in some expensive storage places down in New York because they were planning on doing the play on the road but it never happened.”

"What do you call this?" I said moving closer.

"You can touch it." She smiled at me, and ran her hand over the front to show me that it was indeed possible. The fabric had a rich texture that made it silky smooth to rub your hand side to side, but much rougher to do so up and down.

"What do they call this?" I asked again, not taking my eyes off the dress.

"The woman who owns it described it as a silk georgette and gauze over crepe de chine. I don't think that's a georgette style because the skirt is too full. The gauze is unusual too, because usually they make it a whole separate layer that's just lays loosely over the skirt, but in this one it's been tacked to the heavier silk of the skirt about two thirds of the way down."

"And here?" I asked looking at the detail on the bodice.

"That's the unusual part. The majority of the pattern is a pretty standard silk embroidery. Nice to be sure but not that unusual. The amazing part is that if you look here. This little floral motif has been hand painted onto the fabric. I've see it only a few times before and I think someone told me it was common in Europe at one time. Amazing."

She was looking at the dress, just as I was.

She turned to me and smiled. "You ready?"

I wanted to shout heck yeah!

Anna giggled.

"But I'm…"

"Listen, Chris. This dress was made to be worn. It probably has not been for almost fifty years. Don't forget too, that silk is tough. The Samurai used to make armor out of it."

"How much."

"Well the woman wanted over two thousand dollars for it. She thought that because some actress no one remembers wore it that it is worth a lot. She's probably right, so I told her that she should pack it off to one of those museums for such memorabilia and wait for someone to make an offer."

She lifted the dress, and said. "Go stand on the carpet."

Somehow I felt very nervous.

"Now don't' get too excited. No one's tried it on and I can't even be sure how it might fit and for heaven's sake, watch the makeup."

I nodded that I would.

She slipped it over my head. It was even more lovely than it had promised to be.

Anna had to take my shoulders and move them gently from side to side, to let us both see how the light played on the gown. I was frozen in place.

"Wow." she said softly.

I realized that my eyes were bigger than normal when I nodded my head, and closed my mouth.

"Okay, Cross your fingers. Here goes…"

She tried to zip the dress, but after three gentle tugs she said "Damn." with as much feeling as I'd yet heard.

I felt like crying. "The zipper's broken?" I practically begged for it not to be so.

"No, but it's an old metal zipper, and it's a little, Oh I don't know. Not rusted, but it has that grey rough stuff all over it that makes it not want to slide. It will go. Hang on, I have an idea."

"Oxidized." I said.

She hurried over to a table, where some things were piled and said. "Ah. Thread wax!"

She went behind me and said. "Hold still.”

She began tugging again and I heard the zipper move.

"Okay. Cross your toes too this time." She said as it slid to the top.

"The waist is a little tight but its really good that it closes." She said quickly. "You might do with something to smooth your tummy."

She began the tugging thing again, and mumbled for several moments as she ran her hands here and there, before she walked back over to the little table again.

She came back with three books that looked like old ledgers. "Here she said, placing three on the floor in front of me and indicating that I should step on them.

She spent several moments playing with the skirt before saying. "No, step off." I drifted back, while she removed one book and then gestured for me to get back on.

"Better" She said, this time. "You need a little heel to keep the dress just off the floor. About two inches would do it, but you'd have to make sure they were comfortable because this thing will get heavy."

She stood back and looked and I held my breath.

"It's good. The only problem is here." She stepped to me, and gently slipped her hand palm out into the top front of the bodice. "Some dresses I can take up, but not this. It's not that bad but it is noticeable."

I felt crushed and it must have showed.

"Don't worry. I've got lots of tricks and a few aces up my sleeve."

She stepped to the door that I took to be the delivery area, leaned in, and called loudly. "Oh, Fancy Fanny? I need you!"

I heard someone on the other side before I saw the same woman walk through the door… Twins.

"Anna, how many time must I ask you not to call me Fanny…?" She saw me and said. "I didn't know you had a customer. Oh my God." She stopped to look at me.

"Where did that come from? Is that the dress you told me about?" The new one?" asked Anna.

"That's it. Chris here just wandered into the shop look to look for a dress to go to a ball.”

The new one just shook her head at Anna, who then smiled at me and said. "Chris, this is Sally, My baby sister. She runs the lingerie side."

"Baby sister. Right! By all of three minutes." She smiled and held out her hand blindly as she leaned to touch the skirt before she stood up to smile at my expression. "No, we are not twins. I was adopted. Please God, I was adopted!" She continued to smile.

Anna smiled too. "Stop that will you. I need your help."

Anna slipped her hand back into the top hem of the bodice again, and showed Sally what she was worried about. What followed was a conversation between them in no known language, during which they examined the dress all over, unzipped it and looked at the back, and then began looking all over again.

It sounded like a pair of some New Guinea tribesman speaking in a series of clicks and hums and grunts. At least until Anna stood up, and looked at me, before she asked Sally, "Well?"

"You can't pad the shoulders or take it in at the back?" Sally asked her in response

"Only if I drank a lot more, and had about a month." She sighed "No way I'd even touch it anywhere else."

"Okay." Sally said. "Help me get her out of it."

Anna looked at me for a moment. I was so amazed by them, that I didn't even get it when she arched her eyebrows.

Anna spoke. "Chris, she's going to find out when she helps you."

Anna grunted and I nodded, before turning to look at Sally the younger.

"Him." Anna said. "Or mostly him. It's hard to tell."

Sally just looked at her, then me, and then back at her.

"No kidding?" She finally said. "Wow."

Soon I felt like I was in a phone booth with three other people. They pulled the dress off me, though and the feeling became one of being more naked than I'd ever been even though I was covered from shoulders to ankles by the slip.

Sally took the tape and began measuring all over again.

"So. You two are sisters?" I asked weakly.

Both laughed.

"I'll be right back." Sally said.

Anna, grinning, dragged me to the dressing area.

Then, Sally said "Here," and handed me a garment through the only partially closed curtain. "Oh! Take off the slip."

She made no attempt to close the curtain but stood there watching me somewhere about my middle.

"Do you need help? Chris, right?" She asked as Anna came back through smiling at me on her way past.

"No, ma'am"

"If you like, you can call Anna, ma'am, and me Sally. She be really old."

Noises came over the partition from the back room.

"Here,” she said again

"Now step into this." She held the black garment just above the floor, and waited for me to put my hand on her shoulder and step in.

"Is that a bustier?" I asked.

"A girdle." She looked up at me, surprised at my ignorance at first, but then smiled a little. "It's called a body briefer, now watch. You get it straight on your thighs... and then you pull... ugmph, it up to the bust." She said, doing it, and nearly lifting my feet off the floor.

It was tight but not uncomfortably so. "This will smooth your tummy a little, which will put more of the weight on your hips and give us someplace to work."

She then surprised me by pulling out a pair of fake boob gel silicone type things, and began to work them into the top of the body thing. My posture went a lot stiffer as I shied away but I didn't think she noticed until she said "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you, you silly thing."

"Okay, come on." She said and led me to the back area again, where they both held up the dress to slip it on.

"Oh, there. That's much better." Anna said to Sally, and then looked at me in the mirror.

"What's wrong, Chris?" Anna asked frowning.

I felt myself blushed furiously and shook my head. I'd crossed my arms over my shoulder and chest before I realized I had.

"You don't need to be shy. Lots of guys like…" Sally started to say.

"No," Anna said to her sister. "he's been fine."

She looked for a minute and I tried not to look at the floor. The dress looked amazing.

"Chris, I can't fix it if you won't tell me." Anna urged..

"I'm Okay. It's just…"

"Just what?" She coaxed.

"There are..." I touched the larger bust line of the bodice with my hands and tried to explain. "Things."

"Gel pads. They will warm up in about a minute." Sally told me, shaking her head.

I didn't say anything, just blushed.

"Does that bother you?" Anna asked.

I nodded and blushed a lot more, before I could talk. "I'm sorry. I just don't…" I took a breath and tried to make some sense. "It makes me feel really uncomfortable."

Anna and her sister looked at each other for several moments before they looked back at me. I thought they might be confused but, when they looked back, Sally's expression was blank, and Anna's was more of sympathy.

Sally kind of mumbled. "I'm sorry. When you got all nervous like that, I just thought…" She might even have blushed. "I mean we have men come in sometimes…"

She might have blushed, but I certainly was. "No ma'am. I know… about how some guys feel. It's not like that with me. I just want to go to the dance."

Sally looked at both of us. "Anna, would you." She gestured to me. "I'll be right back,” she said while she walked back through the door between the shops.

Anna came close to unzip the top of the dress, and quietly said "Hold still."

She slipped her hand into the top, and pulled the prosthetics out. I couldn't help but shiver when she did.

"It's Okay, Chris. She just didn't realize."

"Its not anyone's fault but mine." I told her. "I'm sorry, Anna. I know you must think I'm nuts but it just feels so weird that it makes me squeamish. I'll get changed. I didn't mean to be so much trouble."

"What?" Anna frowned. "Chris this is just what we do. You haven't been any trouble." She sighed. "It's not unusual that when a girl starts go grow, you know ... well, sometimes they have a hard time with it. For some they feel like their body is out of control and for others they just feel like people are going to be staring at them all the time." She looked toward heaven for a second. "The second is unfortunately true."

We both smiled a little, me in apology, and her in sympathy, as she continued, "The truth is, that most of the time when we use them, it's for someone who already has a body image they are used to. Not to put something there that they never had. Even then, most women are uncomfortable with it at first. We both understand."

I thanked her. "You are very nice to understand."

"Chris. My mother and I used to dress models for fashion shows. This is nothing in comparison. Nothing." She told me earnestly

I nodded. "I'm sorry. I know you are just trying to make the dress fit, and it's not your fault that it felt like someone dropped a mouse down my shirt." I tried to smile and she did.

"Eeewh." She said, and looked toward the door.

I asked, "Can you do anything?"

Sally came in, walking toward me with a package instead of a box this time. "Sorry, Chris. I just didn't realize. Here, look at these." She handed me a thin, fabric covered, foam pad of some kind. "We use these to help fit things, or to make one side different…"

She smiled when I frowned.

"Yes that does happen, often, and they are just for fitting. They attach inside the dress directly too, but if you wear any kind of cup, we need to have something."

"Okay." I told her. They seemed just like some of the pads I'd seen in women's clothes before.

"May I." She asked and I nodded to show that I wasn’t uncomfortable with her.

Several minutes of tugging, even having Anna unzip the dress and pulling the front down to check the construction. Then they zipped me up, and stood back.

"Well?" Sally asked, Anna. At first I thought they were asking me what I thought but I might have been a mannequin.

Anna was just staring at the dress, rubbing her lips with an index finger.

"I can do it, I think. There's a little material that can take darts along side the zipper. A generous seam allowance isn't unusual for something that's worn as a costume."

Then she looked at me.

"I may need to tack in a layer or two of material, right in here, though, just to hold the pads and such." She spread her fingers and moved her hand in the air from shoulder to shoulder. "Is that all right?"

"I trust you."

Then Sally asked the same question all the adults did, if only with their eyes. "Chris, I have to ask, why are you doing this?"

"I don't really know. I'd like to go to the dance I suppose. I helped to teach the other guys, so I'd really like to be there."

"Are you going to dance with the boys or the girls?" Sally asked.

"Oh god, Fanny!" Anna said.

"What?!" She snapped back.

"What difference does it make? As long as he looks nice, does it matter?"

"No. I just..." Sally shrugged.

I probably should have stood mute but I said. "Both. Mostly the girls, I hope, but if one of the boys asks me, I'll dance with them."

"Really?" They both said in unison.

"Of course." I answered, not thinking it was something they should look so surprised about.

It turned out that Sally's store had all of the things I needed, which she gave me at less than the marked price. Eleven hundred dollars later, including another blouse and skirt, a pair of soft pyjamas, a promise to be back tomorrow and I was on the way back to the school.

     As soon as I got back to my room, I called Miss Lynn but she was too busy with boys who needed more practice, so I called Miss Lindsey to let her know I was back for the day. She told me that several of the governors had decided to attend. She sounded about as happy about it as I felt.

Across the grounds you could see the lights of the reception hall burning and people moving. I hoped that they weren't having too much difficulty.

I watched Ivanhoe on TV because I've always thought that Elizabeth Taylor, who played Rebecca, is one of the most beautiful women ever.

Around eleven, after almost everyone was in their rooms, I walked down to fill out another slip about needing more shopping and perhaps seeing a movie.

For a while, I did a few things like clean off my ears with the disinfectant, and try on the pyjamas, which were very nice but I was feeling too tired to do much more than crawl into bed, and wait for Saturday.

     After getting up on Friday, I half expected that my father would call but he never did. It was very early, so I made it to the dining room as soon as it opened. One of the ladies was looking at me a little oddly but other than saying good morning, she seemed too busy to take much notice of any changes that might be visible.

I was in a cubicle in the library before most of the guys hit the halls, which was just the way I wanted it. Everyone knew right where I was but everyone left me alone because I was working. I’d learned long ago that the best way to make thing go fast and easy was just to work hard on them, so I managed to complete the rest of the assignments that were listed under my courses. Around noon when I sat back and stretched, it was with a very real sense of freedom, and accomplishment.

Checking my inbox, I found a note from Miss Lindsey, telling me that I was approved, but not to forget to stop by the office, so, confirming the time, I logged out.

Everyone else was at lunch or in class when I headed back to my room. I decided on the same coat, which I'd found was plenty warm, and then looked for a knit hat that I could pull down all the way over my ears. No sooner had I found one, than I heard a chirp from my phone where it sat in the charger.

It was the office number, which was both a relief and a worry.

"Hello." I asked a little tentatively.

"Chris?" Miss Lindsey said. "It's me. I'm just checking your phone."

"Oh. Hello, ma'am."

"Is your phone well charged?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am, I always leave it in the charger."

"Okay. You don't need to bother to come by. If you go straight to the bus stop, you can catch the one that comes by in fifteen minutes if you want."

"Thank you, ma'am. I was just coming down, because I was hoping to leave early." I explained.

"Hang on…"

I could hear Mrs. Pierce in the background "Is that the caterer? Oh? Well tell him to call if he has any problem and then I need you to get the caterer on the phone. Tell her that we do indeed have several European students attending Saint Andrew's, but that does not entitle them to be served wine at their tables. Tell her that if she'll identify the particular royal in question, I'll give her first crack at catering his wake. Got it?"

"Chris?" I heard more loudly. "I'm sure you heard. I'll log you out here. Be careful and call us if you need anything and, if you're going to be later than about nine, let me know."

"Thank you, Miss Lindsay. I will."

"You’re welcome, Chris."

The line went dead, and I pulled the hat on, and headed for the door.

     To my surprise, two of the other guys were at the bus stop already. I didn't know them very well, so when they sat together in a seat, I was happy to find one of my own.

Anna was busy when I got to her shop, so I spent a few minutes looking around before I wandered into a dressing room to put on some mascara and gloss.

"Chris? Are you in here?" She called.

"Yes, ma'am." I called out, causing her to step to the curtain, which I pulled aside.

"Oh!" She seemed happy to see me, but busy. "There you are. I thought you might have found something else you liked."

"No, I was just using the mirror and waiting for you to have a few moments free."

"Not much of a shopper, Chris?"

I blushed, a little. "No ma'am." I just shrugged.

Anna laughed and startled me a little.

"I know what you mean but, with me, it's because I'm digging around here all the time. I just let Sally do the shopping. She buys more than enough stuff for the two of us." She rolled her eyes. "Come on."

Once we were back in the work area. I saw the dress on a dummy.

Anna explained. "I finished it last night. Did you bring the under things?"

I felt like such an idiot. I never even thought to bring them; I'd been so pleased that everything was going so well.

Anna just smirked at me and shook her head. "God help me." She said but smiled. "You weren't a scholarship student, I'm guessing."

I could only shake my head and smile apologetically..

"Dressing room. I'll be right back."

     "Darn it! Hold this while I get the wax."

I held the front of the dress, and felt her tugging gently several more times before she actually went to the worktable for the wax.

"If you want, I'll replace this zipper, but I think it just needs to be worked a little… there." Her hand rose to the top. "It happens with stage stuff, sometimes. They get changing as fast as they can, and someone jerks the zipper. It's probably just a bent tooth…"

She didn't tug or anything this time. She worked the zipper from top to bottom several times, before she finally zipped it up again, and she just stopped and looked -- obviously very pleased with it herself.

"It's perfect." I whispered.

After several minutes of turning a little from side to side, I stepped down to face her. "Anna. I don't know how I'll ever thank you enough."

"Well, you already did that. Between you and two of the other girls, you guys made my week. Not to mention the extra lingerie I just sold for my sister." She grinned and I did too.

I dressed while watching her carefully pack up the dress.

"You are off to the Palace?" She asked. "Did you find shoes?"

"No. I forgot the shoes. I’ll have to find some.” I said realizing I had more to do. “I'm supposed to call The Palace to find out exactly when, but yes, soon I hope."

Anna was leaning on the form now watching me. "Listen Chris. Over on the wall by the register, I have the clothes that are more recent. Why don't you pick something out to wear to get your hair done."

It gave me pause. "I don't think I should. I know it sounds silly but I promised a friend that I wouldn't wear any girls clothes when I was in town alone."

She just looked at me for several moments. "You've done that?"

"I've only worn them when I was with her."

"Chris, I probably shouldn't butt in, because I understand that your friend is just trying to keep you safe. That is the most important thing. I want to suggest, though, that it might be better if you wore girl’s clothes this time. You are going to the beauty parlor, and you already have makeup on. I think it makes more sense not to wear your old clothes. Even if you take the makeup off, you’ll still have your hair done."

She was right. I had just wanted to see the dress on with me looking more like I should. I could get away with a little mascara and even more while shopping for dresses. The more I did, however, the poorer the idea of walking around the town in my old jeans and shirt. I just didn't want to do something that I told Miss Lynn I wouldn't.

Anna quietly ended. "I think your friend would understand. She can even call me if she doesn't."

I looked in the mirror. I didn't like it but I knew she was right. I was sure Miss Lynn would be more upset if I got into trouble.

"If you decide that's what you want to do, I have some things that would look very nice. I'd like to give them to you as a gift, not only because I appreciate your coming to me for the dress, but more because I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. If you like, I'd even be happy to walk you down to The Palace, if that's the problem. Sally can watch the place for a couple minutes"

"Okay." I agreed.

"Good. Hang on right there."

I felt funny, and wondered what she'd bring but about a minute later she handed me a pair of black jeans and a white top. She was also holding a pink sweater.

"I can't take so much. I'll pay you for them."

"Yes, you can. Go ahead and change." She smiled, and pushed the sweater in my hands before she pushed me back toward the changing area before heading herself to parts unknown.

"These look new." I said, changing as fast as I could because of the forgotten shoes.

"Fat clothes!" Anna called from somewhere near the back.

"I'm sorry?" I called over the partition.

"Lady I know. Her daughter gained weight right before her winter vacation. When she came in we swapped some stuff."

"Fat clothes." I said to myself. 'Got it.'

I didn't change the under things and the view standing back from the mirror in the work area was much different than the smaller one in the dressing room. In there I could see the clothes. Out here I could see me.

That's where Anna found me when she walked back in. Suddenly I felt a little embarrassed to be staring so I turned toward her.

"Anna, did you see my shoes? Oh." I finished, as she handed my old loafers to me abruptly.

"Marks and Son's, right around the corner. I gave them your size and the girl there is already looking for what you need. Nothing lower than a two-inch heel. Will you be able to do that?"

"Yes. I wore a little heel when I was dancing with the guys because I'm so short." I bent to slip on the shoes.

Anna laughed again. "Assuming I ever see you again, after tomorrow, you really need to explain that to me."

'I will." I promised, standing up and looking at the dress.

"Don't worry about that now. You can't carry it around with you. When you get finished with The Palace, just come back here, and Sally and I will give you a ride back up the road."

"Thank you, ma'am, but I could never impo --"

"Nonsense. You can't get this thing on the bus and it's right on our way. Besides, our old car will probably get you only half way, anyway."

"Ma'am, I…"

"Yes you can. You might also want to wear the shoes that you get, to help break them in. Wearing new shoes like that to a dance is something I only ever did once. Either way, you can drop a pair off by here before you go to The Palace, if you want. I'll keep an eye on them."

"Ma'am I don't know what to say."

"I do. Give me the card before Sally kills me, and you have to walk home!" She grinned.

Less than a minute later she handed it back and I signed.

"Hurry, now. Left out the door and around the corner. Hope is the girl you are looking for. She's really the sweetest thing." She grinned.

"Ma'am, thank you, for everything."

She caught me by he elbow. "No. Thank you, Chris. We do Okay here, but my commission on that dress will probably fix our car, so we really appreciate you too."

I nodded, and headed out feeling a little better. I’d felt bad for spending so much, but the thought that I might actually have helped was a much nicer feeling.

     "You Chris?" A girl said at my shoulder. The store had been empty when I came in. I jumped a little, again, which was really starting to annoy me.

I jumped a foot more when I saw her. Sweet Hope, was a Goth girl, spiked hair, spiked collar, and piercings everywhere. It just startled me, but I think she didn't notice.

"Here. Anna called me. Slip these over your own stockings, and try the this pair on… Are you sure of your size?" She said scooping up my old shoe that fell off when she practically pushed me into the chair.

"These are stretched. I'm going to measure you…"

If you had to shop, I suppose this was the way to do it. Hope gave me two nice pairs to choose from that were comfortable and looked nice. I wore the pair she chose for me out of the store. Six minutes, maybe seven. I liked it.

     The guys from school who had been on the bus had gone on to the mall, so I didn't worry too much about being seen but as I walked back toward Annabelle's in the heels, I felt the strangeness in every fiber of my being. It was different walking around like this. Fortunately, it was only a short walk and I had to pay some attention to the phone, so I didn’t feel too out of place.

"Hi, I'm Chris Morgan, I am…"

"Hi Chris, It's Rachel. We met yesterday. Hang on…"

I heard someone pick up the phone. "… It's supposed to do that. Just rinse it out… Chris?"

I recognized Jessie.

"Yes, ma… It's me, Jessie, Chris."

"Look, calling me ma'am on a day like today is going to have me beating you up instead of some upperclassman. Jessie, or Goddess Divine, Chris."

I was sure she was grinning. "If it's too early, ma'am."

"No! I mean it's hectic. Some lady's hair just fell out, and another one we set on fire, not anything grafts can't fix, but impressive nonetheless until we got her out! Where are you?"

"I'm right up the street, in front of Annabelle's"

"Great! For some reason, I've had a cancellation…" she started to laugh, and I did something like that. "God, that sounds too bad. I'm really just ahead of schedule, Chris. Come in as soon as you can. The coast is clear and it will give us time to work. Can you come now?"

"I'm on my way."

I handed the old shoes to Anna through her door where she was waiting for me. I didn't look back, but I'm sure I felt her watch me the whole block and a half.

I pushed the door to the Style Palace, and the first thing I noticed was that the women there didn't seem to pay any attention this time. Most just glanced and didn't look back.

Rachel smiled and opened her mouth, but Jessie beat her to it..

"Oh, thank the gods for something going right. Thank you, so much, for coming in early, Chris."

I was quite sure she was looking, because she said this while bent sideways at the middle to look at me.

"Very nice. New clothes?" She said approvingly, or so I thought, and grinned before continuing more loudly “I want to compliment you for wearing such a lovely new white blouse and pink sweater to get your hair dyed. Mindy!" She called just above the din.

"Yes, O Goddess Divine?"

Several of the women laughed.

"I deserved that, and it will be reflected in your Christmas bonuses."

"You don't give us a Christmas--"

"Yeah, whatever. Trauma Room One and, for the love of god, bring a smock - one of the nice long really hot ones with the plastic!"

Trauma Room One, it turned out, was just a chair in the far back corner with a curtain that would pull around it, but the feel was almost like an emergency room.

     Anna's car turned out to be an old Volvo Wagon, which she used to haul things like my dress.

"I can't get over how pretty it is." Sally said for the tenth time. "They really did a nice job on the cut."

It was dark now or she'd be going on about the color too.

"I thought the color was amazing." Anna said. “It's going to look so pretty against the blue silk. If they take pictures, you have to get me one for the shop, Chris."

"I will." I promised, only for the third time thinking that any pictures they took of me would probably have numbers under them and a really nice side view.

There were more kids in their rooms than on the Friday nights recently past because some of them had stayed for the dance. Most were still gone overnight, though, and planning on coming back tomorrow afternoon.

Across the grounds, I could see the Crystal Hall was lit fully now, the bottoms of the chandeliers just visible through the large sets of French doors that lined each side. It was only the second time I'd seen it lit like that and it reminded me of one of the great palaces of Europe in the movies.

I gave directions as she coasted to the end of the drive. "To the left, ma'am. I can go in the door at the end of my wing. Just over there" I said pointing, while pulling the cardkey out of the purse.

"Good luck, Chris." She said as she draped the garment bag over my shoulder. It was heavy.

At the top of the stairs I heard my next-door neighbor, Jacob, call out.

"Chris?"

"No." I said, turning the key in my door, and trying to sound really bored.

"Oh, Man. We thought it sounded like Miss Lynn." He called in a prison yard whisper that echoed in the hallway. I'm sure he was popping his head out just after I pushed inside my door.

He sounded a little more muffled when I heard. “Night, Chris. … Hurry up! Hit play, Man. You're hearing shi…" his door thumped a second before mine, ending the discourse.

I was so relieved, that it was over ten minutes before I thought to call the admin line. "Mrs. Pierce." answered the voice on the other line.

"Ma'am, it's Chris Morgan. I'm back in my room."

"I thought that might be you in the Wagon."

'Yes, ma'am." I said biting my tongue and forcing myself not to offer any new information. Miss Lynn was bad enough but doing that with Mrs. Pierce was like asking Sherlock Holmes to pick a number between one and three.

"Who was that, Chris? I was about to walk down to check on you guys."

Visions of the guys next door thanking me, not to mention getting caught myself and being kept away from the ball, danced in my head. Actually, the vision in my head looked more like a Three Stooges skit…

"It was the lady where I was shopping and her sister, Mrs. Pierce. They were going to deliver my stuff so they just gave me a ride too."

I bit my lower lip.

"Chris, I hope you were careful."

"I was, ma'am. I've met them before and they are very nice."

"Okay, you're not a child. No girls in the room over there?"

"Aaah, Ummm." Three languages, and that's what came out. I was sure I never sounded so guilty.

"How many girls Chris? Do we need the paddy wagon, or will a cruiser do?" She joked.

"It's just me, ma'am."

"Funny, Chris. Very funny." She laughed as she said good night.

I thought I was going to faint, which was why I only got the funny part long afterwards.

     I tried to relax. I tried to read. I tried to watch TV. I tried to sleep.

I wound up pulling on a sweatshirt with a hood, and trying to see if there was a snack in the dining room but there were noises there.

Restlessly, my feet led me on their own down the quieter hallway to the theater. It still smelled musty but the glow from the exit signs gave more than enough light to my rapidly adjusting eyes, as I drifted toward the stage.

In the dressing room, I found myself making my way toward the wall of memories before I even realized that was where I had been heading all along.

They were all still there. Suddenly it all came home.

I wondered how many years it had been since anyone had really looked at them. So many boys up there who were gone now. Boys who had lived their lives already, many in ways that I had probably heard of had I taken the time to connect the names below the pictures to the histories I knew. I wondered how many decades it had been since anyone had even read those names.

Perhaps, if I still went to St. Andrew's on Monday, I’d look them up. It seemed the least I could do after all that they had done for me.

I looked at the five faces, over and again. It was in their eyes too. I could see in each of them how alive they were. Surround by their classmates, some of whom wore expressions infinitely much more animated than the few at which I stared but none of the others had those eyes. It was something in the way they looked at the camera that made them look as if I were looking in my mirror. They were calm, a little sad, and perhaps even a little defiant; but, of all those pictures, it was more like their eyes were looking through the camera lens at me.

I might have known how long I looked if I’d been able to turn my eyes away to the opposite wall where the large old clock hung. I never did.

I wanted to tell them I was sorry. I wanted to tell them how happy I was to know I wasn’t alone. I wanted… to explain, to them most of all, because their eyes told me that they already knew. They would have understood. Just like I understood them.

“Me too.” I whispered.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

Finale

     With the dance at seven, and my own appointment scheduled tactically at four-thirty, everyone else was just too busy to worry very much about what I was doing. I spent the early afternoon in the tub trying to relax, and trying some of the other little bottles that I'd found in the bags that I'd brought home from various places. They smelled nice, but from what I could tell, most just made the tub really slippery.

By the time I started to leave at three, none of the ladies in the office were any more interested in checking me out than they had been the day before, so with a call I was able to walk out the side door, and directly to the bus. No one else seemed to notice, and this time of year, it would be dark well before I got back.

I still breathed relief as the bus pulled away.

"Chris, have a seat." Rachel said. Jessie was there, but she was ‘dealing with’ a girl about my age. It was several minutes before she came over to take me from the magazine I'd just opened.

"The rumpus room, Chris." She said pointing, and once there she gestured to the seat. "Do you know the real difference between you and the girls at Saint Mary's, Chris?"

I could only shake my head.

"You are much nicer." She said flatly, running her fingers through my hair. "Ok, where is the hat?"

"Ma'am?" The hat had been in my pocket since I sat down on the bus.

"Good job not getting beat up. I told you not to, and you didn't, but I want the hat." She held out her hand.

"I'm sorry, I thought…"

"Hat!"

I hurriedly pulled the knit cap out of my pocket.

She took it and threw it into a drawer.

"Good thinking," she said. "You can have it back at the end of the semester."

She ran her fingers through the cut again. "It came out really good, if I do say so myself. I love the color. Thank god you came in yesterday, 'cause now this will be so much easier. Now, watch what I do."

Watching was a waste of time. I had no earthly idea what she did, but once it was styled it really looked very nice. Much like the girl in the picture, and perhaps even just a little better than I'd hoped.

I was admiring it when I noticed the girl from the cosmetics counter at the mall, Donna, watching from the curtain. "Pretty." She said, and pushed in a little cart.

Jessie said, "I believe you've met. Donna, this is Chris. Fortunately he's really easy to work with, because at least three of the last four girls have changed their minds and want your help."

"Jess, I have to go to the store. I can't do three. They'll have to come there, and there is no time left."

"I know. Don't worry about it. I'll pick one…" Jessie said, and was gone.

Donna moved to look at me.

"Donna, if I said anything the other night…" I felt I should try to explain, but I had no idea how exactly, so I shrugged a little and tried at least to look apologetic.

"What do you mean?" She asked, looking between me and her cart, more to look at the colors and things she'd need, than to really consider anything I said.

"Well I just thought you were not happy with me." I finished weakly.

If she even frowned slightly, it wasn't enough for me to see. "Chris, I thought you were great. You looked at one or two things, and then bought just about one of each type you had me pull out. I can see you even listened to what I had to say. You may be the best customer I ever had."

"I didn't want you to think I was rude." I said, as she lifted my chin.

"We were probably rude to you, me because I was tired.” She told me, still not paying much attention to what I said. “Did you do this?" She asked, and I nodded. "It's better than it was when you came into the store."

"I've been practicing." I didn't feel like telling her that Miss Lynn had done the makeup that first night, and that I’d been too nervous to sit still for her.

"It's better. That first night the colors were off, and it looked like you rushed. Hold still…"

She never smiled until the very end when she stepped back to watch my face as I turned back to the mirror and stared... and stared.

     I was watching out the partially closed blinds of my window. The lights were shining brightly in the center of the Crystal Hall, with the lights around the walls dimmed. Even so, it reflected on the frost along the ground, looking like glowing silver and gold paths through the trees, leading in every direction.

The kids were filing in, and there were several buses sitting in the long drive adjacent to the reception hall.

It was time.

I was ready. I had been for over half an hour. Little touches of makeup fixes with what I’d bought off the cart to thank Donna were all I felt I needed. I didn’t really need those, because I’d been feeling mostly calm and only a little nervy.

At least five people had seen me outside, but none had been close enough to see me well enough.

I turned and began to release the dress from it's hanger.

Tucked inside, I found a wrap that Anna must have slipped in. It was very sweet of them, but it proved to me how much my hands were shaking as I loosened it from where it had hung inside the dress.

I lifted the dress high, and let it fall quickly to the floor to spread the skirt as much as possible before stepping in, but then the realization hit me that I might not be able to manage the restroom so well in the dress, so I had to do it over again, after a visit and a last spray of perfume in the bathroom.

The gown was much harder to pull up than it had been to drop over my head, and that was only barely possible if I pulled the zipper all the way to the very bottom, but I was too afraid I'd mess myself up, so I struggled, and finally the dress slipped up.

Reaching around behind myself, I felt for the zipper and tugged, only to have it move about an inch and stop. I tried again, and then again, but it was no use. I carefully slid the dress down, and turned to look at it. Using both hands, I was able to hold the sides of the dress together, and with a few tugs the zipper slid to the top.

I lowered the zipper to just above the point where it had stuck, and turned around to lift the dress back into place, but it was too tight, so I lowered the zipper fully once more, and pulled the skirt back over my hips before I reached back and tugged again.

I felt like crying.

I didn't even know why this was so important to me. All I knew was that it was. I wanted to do this, and I needed to go to the dance. Perhaps it was only to prove to myself if the dreams were real. I had to go, because I had to know. I leaned against the desk trying to think, and it was only my frantic thoughts that prevented me from crying right then.

I slipped the dress off and looked at the zipper again. The hole it the tab was too small to put the end of a hanger through.

Despite all the practice I'd had lately, I still hate it when I cry. "Don't cry you goof," I whispered to the mirror as I squinted my eyes, and looked at the reason I did not want to cry. "Think." I breathed.

I opened the desk drawer looking for anything that I might use to help, but office supplies held no hope. A paperclip, maybe, I thought, but I only had three really big ones, and they didn't fit the hole either. I began looking around in my other drawers, until I found a small sewing kit that my mother had included in some care package at some time in the past. At the time, I remember thinking I really had no clue which end of a needle to stick into myself, and that it was the one thing that all boys on their own must surely need.

I picked it up from where it had lain for over a year, apologizing silently for my lack of faith in my mother, before pulling out the small spool of thread. I fully unzipped the dress again to carefully loop the thread through the hole several times, making as many loops as I had thread on that tiny spool before I readjusted the dress to try again.

The zipper seemed to move, as I held the sides of the dress together as best I could with one hand, but it was hard. several times I tried to pull a little harder, even letting the slide down a little before trying again. Of course, the thread finally broke.

I looked around the room, in between glances at my clock, but there was nothing else that might help.

I tried twice more like that, with the white spool and the black spool, looking at the girl in the mirror, but it was no use. I looked again. A hanger just wouldn't fit in the hole, and I had nothing else.

That's where I was, still looking at myself in the mirror and struggling desperately not to cry, when a loud bang from outside my door brought me rushing over to peek.

"Come on, we have to move!" I heard complaining coming from just outside.

"You in a hurry? Twinkle toes?" I was already moving the door, and I quickly cracked it open to look carefully around the edge.

"Girls, you fool. Women! You probably like going to an all boys' school you loser."

Coming down the hall behind the others was the boy from the corner room, Benny Jackson. Unmistakable, because he had the darkest skin of anyone in the school. I called softly "Benny!"

"Chris?" He looked at the door as I pulled it back in front of me. "You better get a move on. I had to show those guys how to do a bow tie, and…"

"Benny, I need your help. Please?" I called softly, from just out of sight.

"Sure, Chris, but one shot at the tie…" I stepped back behind the door, and pulled it fully open. "… and you are on your…" Benny stopped mid stride, but I was between him and the door, which I let go to face him, while holding the front of the dress at the breast. "Chris? What the hell?"

"Benny, I'm so sorry. Please don't freak out on me." I pleaded with him. "I need your help. The dress is old, and I need help to get the zipper up."

"Is this a joke? You don't have time to change!" His mouth moved again, but only soft guttural sounds came out, when his eyes suddenly grew wider. "Hey, now. Look'ie here Lady. I have mace, and I'm not afraid… I'll scream."

"Benny! For God's sake, just pull the zipper up for me, please. We have to go." I turned my back to him, not sure if I was trying to give him access to the zipper, or keep from crying if I looked at him any more.

"Chris, what are you doing?" He said, still standing there, and not moving an inch.

"I don't know, Ben, please. I can't get it up, and I'm going to be late."

"This doesn't mean we are going together, man."

Finally I felt his hands at my back, just as I was sure tears would slip free. Instinctively I tipped my head forward to keep my hair out of the way, even though it was surely too short to get stuck.

He tugged several times.

I tried to help. "You have to hold it together, Ben, but be careful it's very old."

"Yeah, Chris. Thanks. I thought that zippers on dresses worked a different way. Man this one is going to take the… cake" The zipper slid to the top, as the dress conformed itself to hug me firmly from hip to breast.

I gasped out loud in relief. I'm sure my eyes were still dewy when I turned to thank him.

"Thank you, Benny. I owe you big time."

"Chris, what are you doing?"

"Don't freak on me, Ben. Please."

"Look who's talking? Now let me get the hell out of here, but first turn around let me wipe my fingerprints off the zipper. I want no part of this if Pierce decides to dust for prints."

"Don't tell anyone, please?" I had the instinct to reach for his forearm, but I was sure he'd jump out the window if I did. "Everyone will see anyway in a few minutes."

"Tell them what?" He asked. "This is all you baby. I want no part of it, except for the fact that you need to tell me which door you are going to walk in, because I'm going to set up a chair right in front of it, man."

"Thank you, Benny. Thank you, so much."

"No problem, Chris, now let me out."

He walked around me to the door, and pulled it open, only to turn and look at me again. Shaking his head at me, he let the door go without saying anything else.

No sooner had I turned to find the stole, when I heard a loud knock, before the echo of the closing thump had even faded away.

For several seconds I thought it might be Mrs. Pierce or Miss Lynn, even though I had been sure they would be too busy to worry about me. Looking around, I'd never fit in the closet in this dress, and the bathroom was no hiding place at all, so taking a breath, I walked to the door and slowly pulled it open.

"Benny?" I asked, relieved, and surprised he was still there.

"Chris, you Okay?"

"I'm fine now, Benny. I just couldn't get the zipper up. I'm sorry." The frustration still made me want to cry.

"You need a date? As long as you don't expect my pin or anything, I'll walk you across if you need me to."

He actually looked worried.

"No." I said, this time placing my hand on his forearm. "But, thank you, Benny - for everything."

"You sure?"

I nodded, much calmer now as I took a deep breath.

Benny did something then that I just didn't expect. He complimented me.

"You look great, Chris," he said in parting, and chuckled to himself all the way to the stairs.

"Ben?" I called.

He turned.

"I'm using the same side door as the rest of you guys. The one on this side."

I’m pretty sure he chuckled to himself all the way down the stairs as well.

     I needed the cold air to help with my jitters. The butterflies were still there too, and the cold on my chest and shoulders and back made me shiver gently despite the wrap that I was using to cover my bare skin for the short walk to the hall, but my head was clearing - a little.

Ahead of me, the lights in the hall grew suddenly brighter in the center of the dance floor, even as the lights over the tables dimmed further. I had to hurry.

One of the caterers was at the door, moving some forgotten item in, and he stopped me and said. "The door for you girls is over near the buses." He was just being nice.

"I know." I said, and just stood there waiting for him to move, not knowing what else to do.

"Have it your way, Miss." He said opening the door further for me. "Enjoy the ball."

I grinned, and thanked him as I walked into the outer hall between the inner and outer glass doors. There was a table that had been placed there for the boys to leave their top hats, gloves, bicycle pumps. I was surprised. There was actually a hat there. I left my stole and a small drawstring bag that held a few cosmetics and tissues beside it.

The inner doors were open, and I stood there for several moments. I took several deep breaths before I realized that people had looked in my direction. No one noticed yet. They would.

My mind was unnaturally quiet, and I took one more deep breath, as I gently lifted my skirts and slowly walked into the brighter light at the end of the line of my classmates, who being generally smaller, were lined up in front of the upperclassmen. I stood there, folding my hands in front of me, I think outwardly calm.

It was done.

The boy beside me, whom I had not even looked at long enough to recognize nudged my arm softly.

"Hey. You're on the wrong side. The girls are lined up over there."

"Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen." Mrs. Pierce's voice rolled from the end of the dance floor, and the end of the hall in front of a small microphone that had been placed there in front of the small orchestra for the conductor.

I took another deep breath, and slowly turned to look the boy beside me in the eye. It was almost two seconds before I saw his eyes widen, and his complexion fade. I was sure mine was doing the same, and I had to force myself to breathe deeply again as I tried to settle the butterflies once more, because I could see several other guys heads turning toward me or worse popping out of line to see.

All I could do was to turn forward, again, letting my eyes rove over the rows of beautifully dressed girls across from me. About half were in more modern gowns, and about half were dressed as I had, but they all looked lovely as my eyes moved slowly over their line. They were doing the same.

"Let me just say how happy I am that so many of you could be here for me to welcome you to your Winter Ball." She paused as several people applauded politely.

I thought I heard the murmur of an earnest conversation off in the darker area near the tables where the adults stood, but I couldn't hear any of the words.

"Thank you. Now let me just say, that the first obligation of all of you here is to have a good time, and enjoy yourselves and each other's dress…"

I glanced at her long enough to see her eyes grow wide as she lost it looking at me.

"God." I whispered, and tried to let my mind go blank. Someone touched the bare skin on my back softly, but I barely noticed them. I was too unnerved over how badly I’d unsettled Mrs. Pierce.

"I'm… Excuse me, each other's hair." She took a deep breath, which everyone heard over the microphone, but I don't know where she was looking at that point. I was too afraid to even glance in her direction, and I couldn't take my eyes off one tall girl who was staring directly at me, as many of the other girls now were.

"I beg your pardon. Your first obligation is to enjoy each other's company. So enjoy yourselves, and if I see too many hiding along the sidelines, both I and my counterpart, Mrs. Lang of Saint Mary's, will be happy to make introductions. So, especially for all you ladies - Welcome to Saint Andrew's."

There was some polite applause, but this time I definitely heard some words off to my left through the noise, but I couldn't look that way either. I had known there was a good chance that I would be escorted out, making this the most expensive ball gown on a per minute basis since Katharine the Great had worn one to an orgy, but I so dearly hoped not.

The noises from the adults came a little louder "… I don't care." "You can't. He can wear what he wants…" "Don't you think I know..." There were shadows of movements to my left, and to my right I could see Mrs. Pierce smiling at everyone else as she made her way calmly but inexorably in my direction. "He'll always be the boy who showed up… dress, for the rest of …"

Mrs. Pierce had nodded to all the ladies across from us, more than one of whom, were nudging their closest companions and nodding in my direction instead. My eyes found several of the girls who were just looking, and the few more who did not seem to notice anything unusual, but most already had.

"Chris?"

I jumped at the voice right behind me, as I was turned by my shoulder.

I found myself staring up at Tom, unable to move or think.

"Did you come to dance?" He asked, glancing repeatedly over my head, but smiling down at me.

I nodded somehow, unable to tell him he didn't have to do this, but he had my hand already, and I still couldn't speak.

He led me toward the dance floor before any other couple had a chance, which signaled the conductor to announce a request for the Rogers and Hammerstein waltz.

The opening bars of the prelude music were already sounding as he led me past Mrs. Pierce.

Tom shifted to be between she and I, and said in passing, "Good evening, Mrs. Pierce."

I couldn't tell if she was frowning or smiling. I could see her in stark relief, but my mind would not process the information my eyes were trying to send it.

Behind her, even the girls who had been nudging, or even pointing, had stopped to watch me being led to the floor. Some smiling, some curious, and some practically expressionless, but all were watching.

Tom took my hip, waiting for the orchestra.

"Someone told me you are supposed to breathe, Chris." He said, smiling down at me. "I can actually see your heart beating in your chest."

I didn't laugh, I couldn't, but the spasm that went through me rekindled the process of moving air in and out of my lungs just the same.

"Tom?" I husked weakly "Why?'

He grinned again. "Are you kidding? We're friends. You're also one of the prettiest girls here, even though I'm going to do most of my dancing with Angie." He grinned broadly down at me as we heard the piece begin to play. "Mostly though, Chris. When I'm eighty I'll still be telling folks: 'What do you think I did? I asked him to dance'."

He laughed at my expression as I stepped into the pull on my hip.

The lights on the side were dimming more, and for several seconds, when I was not looking at Tom, I was conscious of being watched by every eye. We were all the way around the floor before the second couple joined us. I couldn't muster the breath to ask Tom to stop grinning, and I was too overwhelmed by the lights and faces that were sweeping past us anyway.

When he paused and let go of my hip, and I instinctively held out my freed hand as I continued in a circle around him, he laughed again at the cooing noise that rose form the girl’s side.

There were by then at least a half a dozen couples, one of whom was grinning at me more widely than anyone else. Jerry.

As the waltz ended, my heart was still intent on beating its way to freedom, but the butterflies had finally cocooned themselves into a warm tingle that filled my middle.

Tom stopped us at the far end, near the orchestra, and as far away from the adults as possible. I could only look at him in awe and gratitude.

"Thank you, Tom." I said softly but clearly, even though I could have as easily cried as I released my gratitude to him.

"No, Chris. Thank you." He said as he leaned down to peck my cheek! Several folks nearby gave a good-natured chuckle of approval, and there was a softer cooing sound from the girls on my right. It didn't keep my expression from telling him how grateful I was.

"Excuse me?" He asked. I laughed and patted his chest to let him go. He turned toward an amazing looking blond girl, who I assumed was Angie, and who was walking toward us grinning and shaking her head.

I looked away as soon as I could, just as the next waltz was beginning. I tried to stand calmly and watch the couples joining on the floor, but I could not help but glance at the other end of the hall.

I was at first relieved to see that Mrs. Pierce, and Miss Lindsay were standing at the edge of the dance floor with their backs turned toward me, obviously not intending to snatch me right out of the middle of the dance. My relief wavered, though, when I realized that Mrs. Pierce was standing facing one of the governors - one of the important ones. One look at how straight her back was told me all that I needed to know.

Miss Lynn was with the head, talking to another group.

"Wish I'd thought of it too. Could have charged them double."

I laughed, mostly with nerves, before I even turned to face Freddie.

"Chris, may I just say… Wow!"

"Oh, knock it off, Freddie, please? I didn't bring any money with me."

"I'm not kidding, Chris. I almost dropped that first day I saw you in the hall, but this. It's amazing. If my mum and dad had come, I'd be introducing you to them right now."

I grinned painfully. "Oh, Freddie, give it a rest."

"You look absolutely beautiful, Chris."

"Thank you, Fred." I said this while reaching out to brush the silky lapel of his jacket. "You look very handsome too. This is much better than that stupid skirt." I tried to giggle, but couldn't. He did look much more handsome.

"Thank you. Come on." He held out his hand.

I blushed then. "Freddie, knock it off. Okay? I mean it."

"What? I'm not good enough to dance with?"

"I'd rather dance with Mrs. Pierce." I said grinning now.

"Why you stuck up little…" He started to laugh.

"Ass." I said, the giggles finally escaping my tight insides too.

"Tease."

"Jerk."

"Bitch. Come on."

"Freddie, do you remember last year when you jumped into a bed full of peanut butter?" I asked him, sweetly.

"Don't remind me, I still… Hey! That was…? Awe, Chris. No way that was you, man, you wouldn't say boo to Vladimir Putin."

"No, I wouldn't." I admitted. "But I'm not on a scholarship either, and I can buy a whole lot more peanut butter if you keep it up." I smiled as sweetly as I knew how, and looked at the girls again, trying to get up my courage.

"Yes you can,” he said beside me, “but I'm bigger…"

Freddie had somehow moved in front to take my hip, and I instinctively followed his lead easily enough for him to put us back onto the dance floor again.

He grinned at me the whole time, even though he was the only dance partner I had that night who I didn't stare back at. I had to look at the other faces, or anyplace other than Freddie.

However, I had somehow forgotten that he was also one of the best dancers in the school.

Then I could not help but to look at him.

We danced for the rest of that waltz, which was only for a little while, but it was really nice just the same. He was a much better than me, I realized.

As the waltz ended, he grinned again, and said "Thank you, Chris" and did that little peck on the cheek thing making me close my eyes and go more than a little rigid as I gently squirmed from the assault.

"Freddie." I whined softly. I was now giggling and shivering inside and out.

"Thanks, Chris." He grinned broadly, and then stepped over to ask one of the other girls to dance.

Girls!

I turned quickly, but it was already too late. I was a lost gosling, being surrounded and drawn into the center of the flock.

I spun back hissing. "Freddie! You dirty bast…"

"Hi. You must be. Chris." I heard.

I looked back for the girl who had addressed me, and quickly had to look up. She was wearing a modern gown, and was tall. She was the girl who'd been staring fixedly at me. She was also awfully strong looking… It threw me a little. My god, she was pretty, with a pretty shape, but you could still see that she had actual muscles in her arms.

"How…Hi." I stammered.

She laughed, I think because I was completely surrounded and completely cut off at that point.

"How beautiful." I heard whispered just behind me, and: "So pretty for a boy…" "Too pretty, you mean..."

The big girl laughed again, and said simply. "I'm Beth. I ride the bus to our field meets with Tom, who told us about you helping out."

"I. I, he?" I responded boldly, clearly taking charge of the conversation. Oh, God.

Her smile didn’t waver. "When he said you were actually very cute, we teased him something fierce. Now I’ll have to apologize."

"What did he say?" I managed, in English, one of the three languages I thought I could understand.

A girl beside me pulled my shoulder gently. "Do you go to Saint Andrew's?" She asked staring at my eyes and face before she looked down at my gown, where even another girl reached out and whispered to others beside her. "Look. it's hand painted…” “That’s a boy?" "So Beautiful..."

I nodded to the first girl, which caused the cooing sound again, but this time it came from all around me.

Another girl leaned in and asked "Are you the Headmaster's granddaughter or something?" She was staring at me in disbelief. This girl was very pretty, and it made me blush as I struggled to sound normal. I found almost enough air in my lungs to say "No. I just go."

"How long?" Someone else asked.

"Two years." I told her, to softer cooing and louder murmurs.

Suddenly behind me another girl said loudly. "Well enough of this. I need to find a man before they all go poofy on us."

"Jesus Jenny." The pretty girl said to her. "You have to be such a slut all the time? You were already voted most likely three years running." She did not look happy with Jenny.

The rude girl said "Whatever." and kind of stalked off.

Beth took my hand, forcing me to look at her, even though there were still soft comments and questions all around. They all ignored the rude girl too.

"So," Beth asked, "would you like to dance, or did you just plan to dance with all the cute guys so none of us had a chance?"

"What?" I was stammering now "No! I wanted to dance with you guys. Guys?" Oh, god. And I was worried about asking a girl to dance.

"Good." Beth said, and practically pulled me through the rustling of feathers, as she made a path through the center of the flock to the edge of the dance floor.

There were over a dozen couples now, including some of the ones who were far less confident, but no one had run over anyone yet.

Instinctively, I guess, I reached up to put my hand on Beth's shoulder, and she only laughed when I blushed because of it. She wasn't offended, because she grinned and shook her head, as she drew me onto the floor.

Beth wasn't a great dancer, but she was at least nice enough to realize fairly quickly that she had to slow down and take smaller steps to keep me from having to run around the floor after her. She would have been better if she hadn't been asking me so many questions about what Tom had told her on the team's bus.

I myself almost tripped us once, when Freddie flew by grinning, and I mouthed the suggestion explaining his parentage.

She was really nice though. When the dance ended, she and I were back on the girl's side, so she held my hand as she escorted me off the edge there.

"He was right about you being a good dancer too." Beth smiled at me, and then to the chuckles of most of the girls, she did the cheek peck too, and laughed at me as I blushed, resisting the impulse to rub my cheek.

"Hum! Makeup!" Beth grinned making smacking noises. "That's definitely an acquired taste I guess. Thank you for the dance, Chris. Perhaps later?"

I could only nod, too in shock to do more than murmur something polite.

"Well, Thank You, Chris. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd really like to get to some of the boys before Jenny contaminates them all."

I nodded to her, and turning realized that Mrs. Pierce was dancing with her husband. I smiled and nodded as she briefly caught sight of me, but it gave me the instant courage to turn back toward the girls.

That's when I saw her.

I was not surprised that I had not seen her before, because she was small like me. She was quite possibly the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. Not like the blond girl, who looked like a model, but more like a doll.

She had dark eyes, and black curly hair down to her shoulders, in a fine ringlet perm I guess you'd call it. She was wearing a cream gown, of an older style that made me think of it as a vintage gown like mine. It was almost a golden color, and had a little ribbed pattern running up and down the bodice and sleeves. The bodice and skirt were both covered in small colorfully embroidered flowers.

I could only stare.

"Hi, Chris." she said softly, as she smiled politely. "Would you like to dance with me now?"

"Hi." I answered her, not able to take my eyes away. "You know my name?" I asked, sounding rather silly.

She seemed to be staring at me as much as I was staring at her.. "I'm Millie." She reached for my hand.

It was only a couple of steps to the floor, but one of the other girls did manage to say "Oh, Gosh. She caught up with him." Another answered that one with: "Careful Chris."

Millie only smiled and laughed at them before she turned fully to face me.

I guess it was because she was actually a tiny bit smaller than I, that I got a little confused, I reached for her hip, but she just smiled and took my hand, and moved it to her shoulder. "Who do you think taught these behemoths to trot?" She said, smiling broadly now at the look on my face as she took a step on the next beat.

Unlike Freddie, I had no trouble keeping eye contact with Millie.

I danced with her for that entire waltz, and another after, when one of the girls cut in. I danced with Tom again, and he introduced me to Angie, who also asked me to dance, before Millie was back again. Jerry, and the very pretty girl, Deborah... and even Benny. In the short breaks for air, or a sip of water from tiny bottles, several of the girls continued asking about me, but more and more about the handsome boy's I'd been dancing with. It made me laugh to tell them who, and how nice, my friends truly were. It was all so wonderful, but my head was spinning when the chimes sounded that it was coming time for us to start moving toward the tables.

Millie took me by the hand, and I followed. I'd have never gone near the adults had it not been for her leading me to a table. However, I really needed to sit now because we'd both danced almost all the dances so far, and the silk dress was really heavy.

"Chris?" Mrs. Pierce said, as she appeared from nowhere beside us.

Millie surprised me by stepping up to press herself into my side, as if she was afraid that Mrs. Pierce would snatch me right off my feet. I sort of thought she might as well.

Mrs. Pierce actually almost smiled the human smile at her. "Miss Goldman, nice to see you. May I talk to Chris."

Millie squeezed my hand, and said. "Chris and I were just going to get a table, Ma'am. Chris has asked me to eat with him."

It wasn't true but the caterers were now scurrying about the tables, and some of the other couples and kids were drifting up behind us, so it seemed a little truthful.

"Would you step over here with me, Chris? There's someone who wants to say hello." With that, she turned and walked away from the floor.

"It's Okay, Millie.” I sighed. “Mrs. Pierce is… my friend." I tried to reassure her, hoping that the person she wanted me to meet didn't have a net.

I started to walk to follow Mrs. Pierce, but Millie wouldn't let go of my hand. She came along.

Several people were standing back away from the tables, and along the wall, while I approached slowly, because I was so afraid that I was about to be forcibly ejected, or worse.

"Good evening, Headmaster." I said, quietly, while holding Millie's hand more tightly than she had squeezed mine. I was about say something about the nice dance, when another man stepped toward me.

"Hello, Chris."

"Dad!"

He looked a little confused, but I wasn't at all. I just grabbed him.

"Dad." I said more weakly, wanting to laugh, but crying now just the same. "You, came."

He was hugging me back tightly, almost lifting me. "As soon as I could, Chris." Even though he squeezed me like he meant it, he all too quickly pushed me back to look at me.

I had to ask, “How long have you been here?"

"I got here about fifteen minutes ago, as quickly as the limo could make the trip from the airport."

"I'm so glad to see you, Dad... I…" I was going to tell him how happy I was, but the look on his face held me back. He just stared, and there were tears in his eyes.

Oh god, Dad.

"Dad, I didn't mean to upset anyone. I'm sorry. I just wanted…" All I could do was to compare all their shoes for several moments.

"Chris, Would you come back here with me for a moment."

Oh no, I thought suddenly. I had been thrown out of school after all. I took a deep breath, and steadied myself as best I could. I didn't look at any of the men and women who standing near us looking at me. Too few were smiling, anyway. Most just looked worried or confused. They weren't the ones I'd miss.

"Yes, sir." I mumbled very softly, and began to follow him.

Mrs. Pierce and Miss Lynn were standing near the front side door that the girls had come in waiting for us. It looked like they were talking to Saint Mary's headmistress.

When we were close, Dad reached out for the woman’s arm, and she jumped visibly at his touch, and turned...

"Mom?"

My first thought was that she looked older, and so very tired. My second thought was that she felt just like I remembered as we held on to each other.

She didn't push me away to look like Dad had.

I hate it when I cry, usually. This time, I just whispered 'Mom' every time she said she was sorry.

It was several minutes before I felt mom stiffening up suddenly, and when I looked back, Millie was there dewy-eyed, but, so were several of my friends who'd come to make sure they weren’t dragging me away.

"Guys." I said too quickly, having trouble speaking, but holding up my hand for them to stay back.

Poor mom looked like a frightened child.

"Please. You're frightening her. Please move back a little. I'll explain it all to you later. It's Okay, I promise. This is my mom."

The guys didn't understand, but Millie did instinctively, and Miss Lindsay did as well, because they both moved in to pull my friends aside, while Miss Lindsay explain to them exactly why I was crying, and why they had to hang back.

Millie was the only one who returned to me, and stood with Miss Lynn.

Mrs. Pierce spoke up then. "Mister and Mrs. Morgan, may I present Miss Millie Goldman. Her family is Goldman Trust."

My father nodded and said something cordial to Millie, but my mother just smiled absently at her, before she spoke to me again. "You look different Chris."

I lifted the sides of my dress, and let them fall. "I'm so sorry if I've embarrassed you again."

My mother spoke even more softly. "That's not what I meant, Chris. You look… happy."

I didn't know what to say. "How long did you watch, Mom?"

My father answered, because my mom was just staring at me, and tears were flowing from her eyes again.

"Long enough." He tried to smile, as he said. "If you were so unhappy here, Chris, you could have said something."

It was funnier than it sounds, but Mrs. Pierce actually rose up on her toes, and I thought sure she'd swing, but even she quickly realized he was only joking with me, and he probably just didn't know what else to say.

Neither did I, which is why I couldn't really explain any better than I finally did.

"No." I said shaking my head slowly. "That's not it at all. I love it here, and these people are really nice to me every day. Mrs. Pierce, Miss Lynn, and Doctor Pope, they treat me like I'm their family. The guys… Dad they're just the best you can even imagine. They’re more like big brothers."

"You still like it here?" My mother asked, sounding both relieved and confused.

"Yes, I do. Don’t you understand? I just missed you guys, so much. That's all."

My father looked confused, his eyes trying to take all of me in again. "Then what's this all about, Chris?"

I felt the words coming together inside of me, but I couldn't make them move further than my stomach. "I don't know, Dad." I told him, dabbing my eyes with a tissue Millie slipped into my hand.

"It's just…" Looking up at their faces, the words poured out. "I don't think I'm supposed to be in a boy's school."

     "…Thus, there are several changes that we had to add as a supplement to the student handbook. The new issue of the student handbook will be issued in a few weeks, and I'll make sure you get one of the first copies."

"Thank you Ma'am"

"One big change is that we have instituted a casual day, which has for the time being been set for the first Friday of the month. It's only temporary, so we can see how it goes, but I expect you girls in particular to read the rules regarding the acceptable modes of casual dress very carefully."

"I will ma'am. I promise."

"I know you will. Just as I know you will make sure that your daily uniform conforms as well.

"Now, you all know where the designated bathrooms are, which you'll share with the ladies on the staff, so that leaves only one other point. I want to make it very clear, because it's a big one. The shuttle van that will take you back to Saint Mary's will be here at various times depending on class schedules, and extra curricular activities. It is your responsibility to keep track of when and where you are supposed to be. I don't expect problems. However, if the unfortunate happens, you are to let me know at once. I can't have one of you girls going missing on me."

"I understand."

She sighed. "I'm sure you girls won't be a problem at all."

"Thank you, ma'am. I know that I speak for all of us when I tell you that we appreciate this opportunity, and all the trouble you've gone through to make it all work."

She smiled. "Not at all. I believe that the decision to allow students to commute from Saint Mary's so that they can take selected classes under the instructors here is a very wise one. We have some of the best teachers anywhere, and Saint Mary's has many students who are second to none. It's a good mix. Besides, five students in ten classes can hardly be considered a logistical nightmare. In any case, it's just the beginning."

"I appreciate the opportunity, ma'am. Very much."

"I'm sure you will make the most of it, just as your record proves you always have, but if there are any problems at all, what should you do?"

I couldn't help grinning. "I come and see you immediately. Neither delays nor excuses to be tolerated."

"I can see we are going to get along just fine. Now, I'd like to walk you to your first class with Doctor Hammond."

"You don't need to do that, ma'am. I'm sure I can find my way." I was still grinning like anything.

"Believe me, it will be my pleasure to make sure you get there on time, and it's only just down the hall." She ushered me out of the chair, and then out of her office.

The girls in the outer office smiled in a friendly way of welcome, making me feel really good as well.

Before we reached the outer door, though, A rather loud distinctive voice sounded behind us in an abrupt tone. "Miss Morgan?"

I turned to face him, to find that his tone not withstanding, he was smiling like everyone else.

"Good morning, Headmaster."

"And, a very good morning to you, Miss Morgan. The Saint Mary's kilt and blazer looks like a nice complement to the usual around here…"

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"… but I wanted to remind you, that I've managed quite well these last thirteen years not having to carry weapons of any kind with me as I walked our hallowed halls."

"Headmaster?" I asked, assuming this was the speech about hormonally challenged teenagers again.

"A ruler, Miss Morgan. It's my understanding that the uniform kilt length is not to be higher than three inches above the knee…"

Mrs. Pierce tiredly said. "Four inches."

"… And I fully expect my girls to show the same sense of restraint and decorum that I expect of all my students; however, if we are given reason, we will be checking to be sure that that two-inch rule is scrupulously adhered too."

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"No. Thank you, Miss Morgan. We've missed you."

"I missed all of you too, sir. Very much"

Mrs. Pierce had me by the shoulders again. "If you'll excuse us, sir. I want to make sure that Chris is not late for Doctor Hammond's class, not to mention, that she's not forced into wearing a bustle skirt for the rest of the year."

“You’re just happy you finally got your own way, Mildred.” The headmaster grinned like one of the guys. "However, tardiness can not be tolerated, and please give my fond respects to Doctor Hammond and, as for you Chris, please do try an remember that the one inch rule only exists to make your stay with us more enjoyable. Besides, knee length skirts can be quite, fetching, that is to say lovely. I even seem to recall that one student here made a most favorable impression in much longer togs."

His concessions to gravity, and the irresistible slide toward my ankles was only halted when Miss Lindsay interrupted him by handing him a message slip.

"Huh? Oh the governors, quite right. Thank you Miss Lindsay. Is that all quite clear, Miss Morgan?"

"Quite clear, sir. My mother is equally concerned, Headmaster. She already has several new rulers at the ready."

"Excellent. A most sensible woman to have raised such a charming daughter. Now if you'll excuse me… important headmaster stuff." he grinned again. "And don't forget you owe Mrs. Pope and me a dinner next week so that we can catch up on developments."

"I very much look forward to it, sir."

Mrs. P. and I were laughing half way down the hall.

"The only things I never thought would change around here were the jokes” She continued to chuckle freely with me. “So, how does it go with your family?" She asked me more quietly in the not quite empty hallway.

"Wonderful, ma'am. Really just wonderful. My parents bought a new house an hour away, so I'll be spending most nights and weekends with them.”

She nodded that she knew the Board of Governors had waived some of the residency requirements for me as well.

“The place is really too huge for just the three of us, and The Third Armored Division, but it really is very nice."

"I heard. I was so glad they will be so much closer. How is your mother doing?" She asked even more softly.

"She's much better, ma'am, thank you. She still gets uncomfortable going out, but as long as my father or I are with her, she seems much better. Her new doctor thinks it's because she and I got to spend so much time together over the Summer. It's made a huge difference in how she was feeling about things with me, and that means she's feeling better all around. We had a blast."

"And Miss Millie?" She grinned at me.

"She's wonderful too." My cheeks burned. "They wouldn't let us be roommates, though." I giggled. "I have a private room with barbed wire, and Millie has one with mines and a burglar alarm outside her door."

We both giggled.

Mrs. Pierce nudged me. "That sounds like something special. I'm so happy for you."

"It is. I can't even describe the feelings. When I think of how things might have gone on feeling so alone... Dad showed me some of the letters, and diagnoses he got from that silly doctor. He had pages of stuff that said that if he tried to get mother and me under the same roof, mom would just collapse in an irreversible catatonia. Really scary stuff."

"I'm sorry about that guy, Chris." She frowned for the first time.

"Me too. The first week we were back here though, all three of us threw them into the fireplace. It was a late family Christmas gift."

"And what did I read about this 'Anna Jessie' Foundation?"

"That's just me getting back at my dad still." I felt so embarrassed.

She smiled too, but pulled me to a stop. ‘Okay, I got the message. No getting away this time.’

"I suppose, I just realized that one big thing I like about having so much, is that sometimes you can actually help." I don't know if my blush was the same color as it usually was, but it felt different. "My mom and dad get the credit really. Their lawyer did all the work setting it up. Donna is going to school. The others, Anna and Jessie, lent their names and time, because it turns out they’ve been helping people all along. Not much to do with me, really."

She patted my shoulder again. "I'm so glad you are back. The picture of you and Millie we hung in the dressing room was a poor substitute. The place was not the same.”

My smile was all the answer she needed as she pulled opened the door to Doctor Hammond's class just before the bell rang.

"Chris!" Millie called out from her seat in the first row where she sat in an identical uniform kilt and blazer. It stood out rather starkly against all the boys, who had fearfully left rows of seats around Millie empty, even though that meant some of them had to share two to a desk, which had obviously given Millie the giggle fits.

Doctor Hammond was watching Mrs. Pierce as if he had been cleaning out the lion's cage at the zoo, and had mistakenly left the screened door unlocked.

I grinned back at Millie. "Hi Millie. I’m so glad you'll be in here too."

"Chris, I'm starting to have serious doubts." She said over her shoulders at her distant classmates. "Are they always like this?" She asked in between giggles.

"No. They're on their best behavior. What can I say? If you ignore them, they calm down pretty well, and then they kind of grow on you." I promised, grinning as much as she was, and all while nodding at a bunch of the guys who were waving and making faces at me behind her.

Just then Freddie strode into the room, causing Mrs. Pierce to loose her cool for the first time ever, covering her mouth with one hand trying to muffle a small shriek. Well, perhaps the second time.

"Oh good God. Freddie." She said, and then she cracked up.

Freddie was wearing a leather mini that was at least three inches above poor Doctor Pope’s minimums. He also had a Hooter's tee with a stuffed animal in it, some weird pink boots, this huge blond wig done up in oversized pigtails and bows, not to mention enough makeup for a whole circus of clowns…

I could only groan. "Oh Freddie…" Then laughed along with everyone else..

Freddie took my hands in his, grinning, and started jumping up and down. "Here you are, Girlfriend. I've been looking all over for you, and I'm so happy we have Home Economics together, and then we have naked volleyball, and then we can like make fudge, and… Oh! Oh! I got the little Mermaid on Blue Ray!"

I couldn't contain myself. "Oh my God, Freddie. You've lost it so bad you don't even know where you saw it last." I giggled helplessly.

"Mister Thomas." Mrs. Pierce tried for stern, and failed miserably.

"Oh, Hello Mrs. Pierce. I didn't see you there! Do you like fudge, too?"

“Do we need a private talk now, Mr. Thomas, or are you going to change in time for your next class?”

"Yes, Ma'am. Gotta go Chris. Bye! See you at the slumber party!" Then, he honest to god, as I was peeking through the fingers of the hand covering my own eyes, skipped out of the room.

One of the boys mumbled "Dumb bastard."

"Yeah, but it was funny." Someone else said.

"You think Mrs. Pierce is going to make him run around the whole school with a pack full of rocks?"

"Yeah. In that outfit."

Everyone, except Professor Hammond was laughing as I looked at Mrs. Pierce, shrugging just as helplessly.

"I'm sorry ma'am." I told her, still laughing. "I hope I won't always be this much trouble for you."

She smiled the human smile, the only one that she ever used with me now.

"Nonsense, Miss Morgan. You've given me something else we needed much more around here than peace and quiet, and I think that's worth much more than a little trouble."

"Ma'am?"

Over her shoulder, she said, "Girls, Miss Morgan. Girls."

Fin.

 
 
 
By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

      Gentles all:   The following story contains reference to a form of Japanese street fashion, the adherents to which refer to as Elegant Gothic Lolita. Note, that the term “Lolita” refers to this style of clothing. This, with Gabi's kind help, is a revised and illustrated version of the story that originally appeared on Crystal’s Storysite.

Hansel and Gretel: A Fairytale. Act 1. By Sarah Lynn Morgan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Margaret looked at herself thoughtfully for a moment, and then decided that perhaps she should be even more subtle with her eyes. After all, it would not do to have one of the Sisters from ‘The Holy Order of the Blessed Pain in her Ass’, to write home again about her “extravagant use of cosmetics, and her unconventional sense of style.” The way that her stepmother Joan had carried on the last time such a note came home, you would have thought she had been caught trading drugs for sex to devil worshipers during Friday morning chapel.

     Looking at herself again in the mirror, she adjusted the lacings and the bow on the front of her blouse. She did not want to change her look; it was the perfect choice for how she felt this Friday - but it was a risk. One more letter from ‘The Sisters of Morality in Fashion’, and she might well blow the cosplay convention this weekend.

     The sound of her brother John’s alarm clock made up her mind. She could face another tirade from her stepmother about her “complete lack of awareness of their social position, and her constant attempts to embarrass her parents with her outlandish getups.” In the end, Margaret knew that there was no way to avoid an argument anyway. She might as well feel good until it started; or until it continued, as the case may be. She gently smoothed down the lace of her blouse, and checked to make sure her hairpiece was on tightly, before padding down the hall to John’s room.

     Margaret had always been an “early-riser,” as her dad called it. He said that she got that from her mother. Poor John, on the other hand, would never make it to school without her help. It was not that he was lazy or anything; he just did not wake up before about nine o’clock no matter what the circumstances. Margaret had found him many times with is feet on the floor, sitting on the edge of his bed, still sound asleep.

     Margaret had never really mind taking care of John, because she knew he was a great kid. She also knew that like her, he had no one else. When it came right down to it, they were the only family each other really had.

     Margaret and John’s Mother had died while having him. Since she was three years older, she wound up taking care of John. As soon as she learned how to do something for herself, she would naturally start doing it for John as well. Her dad said that she had done that right from the start. It was good that she had, because the never-ending parade of nurses, nannies, and governesses that her father had hired were a poor substitute for their mother.

     To John, no matter who might be the flavor of the week, Margaret was always there. It made them very close, but Margaret reflected every day that this was a very poor substitute for a dead mother, and a father who was seldom able to show any warmth to his son.

     At ten, and wise beyond her few years, Margaret completely understood that her father’s distance from John was the result of loosing his wife and a mother to his children so tragically, and unexpectedly. She knew that it was the pain of his loosing the only woman he would probably ever truly love, and not that he really disliked her brother. However, she had expected him to get over it. At seventeen, Margaret understood it a whole lot less than she had when she was younger. Seeing the distant way he still treated his own son had put a distance between them as well. She knew now, that would probably never change. It did not even bother her that much any more. Deep down she admitted to herself that she wanted the distance there now. It just made it easier to deal with the fact that she had lost both her parents on that terrible day.

     When she was eleven, her father had married Joan. The woman was not exactly a bad person. She did not try to poison them or anything, but if there was such a thing as a woman completely lacking in maternal instinct, Joan was it. She had no talent for human interaction, which meant that on those rare occasions she tried to act motherly, she only made things much worse. She was never able to deal with any of their problems.

      When Margaret was 13, John had gone to Joan because a teacher had been giving him a really hard time in front of the other kids. He needed help, and Margaret knew that it was the teacher’s fault, and not John’s. Well Joan, true to form began yelling at John for all of the problems that she had to put up with from him, etc. It had been so much worse than no help at all.

      Later, Margaret, had pulled John aside, when he was almost ten, and told him that he should have come to her instead. She told him that if he needed help, he should always come to her from then on. If she could not help, she could get Dad’s help for him. She also told him that the next time he needed some humanity, to go down to the market and buy one of those big dead fish for ten bucks; unlike Joan, at least that would have some human warmth left in it.

      As she padded into John’s room to turn off the clock, he was sitting up in his bed, his blurry sightless eyes staring at the mirror across from him. “Good Morning, Little brother, you were sleeping in your pants again?”

      Rubbing his hands on his jeans, “Yeah, Maggie, I did — Sorry.”

      “It doesn’t bother me, just don’t let Joan see you; we could both use a better start to the day.”

      “Is she up?” John asked, surprised in spite of being barely conscious.

      “I thought I heard her in the kitchen a little while ago, so yes. You get to the bathroom and into the shower, and I’ll go down and get us some breakfast!”

      “Maggie, don’t bother making anything for me, I can’t eat food before the pigeons have had a chance for breakfast. It just seems…, so unfair.”

      Margaret almost smiled, as she firmly pulled him off the bed. “You need a good breakfast if you are going to keep up that GPA; and, I do it because I love you, you little squid! Now get up, and get in the shower!” Margaret put her hands on John’s shoulders, and made sure he was moving in the right direction, before she headed down stairs.

      Joan was sitting in the kitchen smoking when she got in there. It was one of the things that Margaret liked least about her, but since she usually kept to her side of the house, at least Margaret did not have to put up with her clothes smelling like cigarettes. “Morning,” Margaret said, as she walked to the sink to run some hot water in one side and add some dish detergent.

      “Is that what you plan on wearing to school?” Joan asked in a voice that held more disinterest than sarcasm as she flicked an ash away

      “Yes, but I ‘m going to make breakfast in it first” Margaret said evenly, in a voice that held about the same amount of affection. “Do you want some eggs?” Maggie tried at least to make the question seem more friendly, succeeding to some degree.

      “No. You just make sure you get out to school on time.” With that Joan got up and shambled to the master wing, while Maggie tried hard not to shiver, and let Joan see how the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. She went to the fridge to start breakfast.

      “Morning!” Maggie muttered acidly under her breath.

 
 
      She called John down twice to breakfast before he finally did the zombie walk to the table. Eggs, waffles and bacon, would at least make sure that when he did wake up, he would be able to sit still in class.

      “Come on, John, we have to leave in twenty minutes, get over here, and eat.” She said this while checking to see that his socks matched

      “Oh Yeah? Well what about you?” John asked defensively.

      “I had mine between the first and second call, John, just before I washed the dishes, and put them in the dishwasher. Did you finish that paper for English?”

      “Yes, Maggie, yesterday.”

      “You want me to look it over?” she asked.

      “No, it came out fine. It will be an A, I’m sure.”

      “OK, well don’t forget it upstairs. Put your dish in the sink when you are done.”

      “Yes, sister Margaret,” John said with a gentle sarcasm, as Maggie headed back upstairs to collect her own things without really hearing him.

      A short time later, as they went out the door, she slipped a few dollars into John’s pack for lunch, and they began to walk to the buss stop three blocks away. Looking ahead, she could see the small dark head of an Asian girl, Miyu, who she knew John really adored.

      “So, John, have you asked anyone out to the dance next Friday?”

      “Oh god, Maggie, not again! Isn’t it a little early in the morning, even for you?”

      Maggie responded softly, “Well, you know, John, most girls appreciate a little warning when a boy asks them out. Not only do they need time to get something together, but asking a girl at the last minute makes them feel like they were a second choice or something. You need to ask today, you know.”

      “Maggie,” John replied, “I'm pretty sure what girls really like are to not have geeks like me bothering them!”

      “John, you are a great guy, don’t say things like that, OK. I promise you, it won’t be much longer before all of the girls in your class realize just how great you are Trust me, and give them a chance.”

      “Yes, Maggie. I’m sorry. I’m sure you are right. When the girls in my class get sick of the jocks, the really rich guys, the good looking guys, and all those losers in the cool kids cliques, then I will be there - ready to take up all that slack!”

      “Well, you listen to me, and you ask someone. I think that girl Miyu would be an excellent choice, but you need to ask someone today, OK?”

      “Humph.” John said.

      “Listen, I want to stop by Noriko’s place on the way, so you go to the stop and get on the bus. I’ll catch the 7:40, OK?”

      “Gee whiz, Sis, are you sure you don’t want to hold my hand all the way down the block to the bus stop?”

      Laughing and patting John on the shoulder, Maggie said, “Yes, on second thought you are probably right! Take my hand, squirt, and I’ll make sure you get there!”

      With an almost dirty look, John continued down to the stop, while Maggie turned toward Noriko’s apartment.

      Noriko was dressmaker and a very good one. When it came to costumes and period clothing, she was about the best there was. The majority of her work went to the large theater companies in the area. Noriko could take one look at a garment, and reproduce it almost exactly, except hers were often prettier than the original. Most of the people Maggie knew who were into cosplay liked to make costumes on their own, but a few people who could afford it bought them from Noriko. For a few years, Noriko had also made custom clothing for wealthy clients, but she had hated that so much, she had given it up.

      Noriko made most of Maggie’s Loli clothes, and had arranged to buy others for her through family she had back in Japan. She had made the blouse Maggie was wearing, and even made all her school uniform skirts for her. Maggie knew that the only reason that Noriko did the work for her was that they had been friends for so many years.

      Maggie always tried to help Noriko in return, by running errands, and sewing on beads and things, but she knew that she would always feel that she could never do enough. Besides, she loved being with Noriko so much, that helping her seemed more like fun, than any form of repayment.

      Noriko was about ten years older than Maggie was. They had met at the park years before, while Maggie was there with John. Because she was such a beautiful women, many of the children were drawn to her, and spoke to her easily. It was not too long before Noriko came to understand why the little girl and her brother were always at the park alone. From that time on, she always made a point to speak to Maggie and John when she saw them. From there, as Maggie grew a little older, she was often invited over to tea at Noriko’s apartment, where of course she became fascinated by the beautiful costumes and dresses she saw there. Now, even thought there were many years between them, she was the closest friend Maggie had. More like a big sister than anything else, and her apartment was a sanctuary away from the travail that was home.

      At the door to the apartment building, Maggie glanced one more time down to the stop, hoping that John would have caught up with Miyu. She did not see him though, so she shrugged her shoulders, and pulled the door open. In the foyer, she reached for the bell to Noriko’s intercom, but the door buzzed before she touched the button. Noriko was at her door when Maggie got off the elevator.

      “Maggie-chan, I saw you coming up the stairs. You look very pretty today!” she greeted Maggie in just the same way she had when she was a little girl. It was a joke between them.

      “Thanks to you, Noriko!” Margaret answered. In the apartment, half of which was a studio, Noriko quickly invited Maggie to shed her outer clothing and come over to her by the window where she waited with a measuring tape.

      Maggie stood patiently while Noriko measured her upper body several times. As usual, she never needed to write any of the measurements down, and always seemed to remember them.

      “Your blouses are getting tight across the front?” Noriko asked quietly.

      “Yes. Everything is. I guess I need not have worried so much about the Titty-fairy after all, Noriko.”

      Noriko blushed a little at her young friends impertinence, but she also laughed. “I tried to tell you, Maggie, that time is the master of many such worries. You just had to wait for it to catch up with you. Fortunately, I had faith, so I left some extra cloth in the seams of several of your dresses. I can fix them in a day, when you are ready.

      “Noriko, thank you. I am so sorry to bother you, but I adore the clothes you make, it always makes me so sad when I outgrow them.” Maggie said to Noriko sincerely, as Noriko poured the girl a quick cup of tea, while Maggie tidied herself.

      “I don’t think that you will need to worry about that too much longer. I think you will soon be fully grown, and will no longer have to leave your pretty things in the closet, unless of course your teachers make you!” Noriko replied with a slightly mischievous grin.

      Maggie rolled her eyes. “You know last week we had another casual day on Friday, so I wore that black dress and head-piece you made for me last month. You know that I got sent to Father Bernard who questioned me about witchcraft and devil worship!”

      Noriko chuckled openly, “You know Maggie, and perhaps you should consider wearing a simple school uniform once in a while.”

      “Noriko, the clothes you make for me are so beautiful, why on earth would I want to wear ugly clothes for the ‘Sisters without Mercy.’ No way!”

      “Well,” Noriko sighed, “I make you clothes that you will love, but you need to be careful not to get yourself in trouble.”

      “I am, Noriko, I am. Well, thank you again, but I have to run, it is seven thirty, and I have ten minutes before the buss comes.”

      Noriko watched Margaret for a moment, and then very uncharacteristically made up her mind to be the first one to speak. “Maggie-chan, did you fight with Joan this morning?”

      Margaret sighed, and looked down at her feet. “Not this morning but last night was more than enough.”

      “What happened this time?” Noriko asked gently.

      When Margaret looked up, she had tears in her eyes. She began to speak slowly enough, but soon was spilling out everything very quickly. “I overheard Joan talking to my father last night. It seems that the poetry contest that John entered was the last straw for her. It seems that she has my dad convinced to send John to some military school next year, when I go to college. I couldn’t help myself, I had to say something: John is smaller than the other kids his age, and on top of that, I can’t imagine what would happen to him if they put him in one of those schools now. Would everyone outrank him, or something? It is such a stupid idea, and it’s only because Joan does not want to have to take care of him. Just wait till they find out that he won the contest! That bitch will probably sign him up for the French Foreign Legion.”

      Noriko, tended to agree with Margaret, but as always, she felt compelled to try and guide Margaret. “Please, don’t think that I agree, but you know John might just be better off in military school, than staying home alone. Besides, John doesn’t have problems now does he? He can probably take care of himself better than you think, Maggie.”

      “Don’t get me wrong, he can take care of himself, he’s smaller than most of the kids, but the only one who holds that against him is my father. It’s just that it is so unnecessary to put him through all of that just to make her life easier. If that bastard would stand up to her for anything, even he would admit it is a stupid idea. The kids at a school like that train to give people like John a hard time. They’ll kill him!”

      Noriko thought for a moment, and decided to speak her mind. “You are right, John is a good boy, but they will kill him. It is a stupid idea.” Noriko reached out, and put her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “What can you do?” she asked.

      “I don’t know, but I need to try and do something. I don’t think I can do anything. I was planning to talk to the guidance councilor at school. He had suggested that perhaps he might get John into a student exchange program, and there may be something he can do!”

      Noriko’s eyes widened, “Maggie-sama, that is a wonderful idea! That may just work. John is very luck to have you for a sister. Don’t be too sad, you will find some way to help. You always do, don’t you?” Noriko lifted Maggie’s chin to smile at her, and gently wiped a little tear from the corner of her eye, being careful not to smudge her makeup.

      Maggie smiled back, and said, “I really have to run. Thank you, Noriko, I’m sorry to bleed all over you again.”

      “That is what I’m here for, alterations and mending of skirts, slacks, dresses, and human hearts!” Noriko said with a smile, and in a display of affection she reserved for Maggie alone, she held out her arms. Maggie hugged her back tightly if very briefly.

      As always Noriko walked her to the door, “Remember your strengths,” she said holding the door open, “patience with those who are cross, and a kindness for all who would be friends.” Noriko watched Maggie walk to the elevator, which had just opened. She shook her head a little as the elevator doors closed behind Maggie, before again turning back to the work waiting on her table…

      John followed Miyu down to the buss stop. Maggie did not know that John had tried to speak to her several times, but could just not seem to get the words out. He thought that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, but she was so quiet. She had a frustrating habit of not responding when people she did not know well spoke to her, which was just about everyone. To those questions, she would often smile politely and bow slightly, before walking away in silence. Some thought her stuck up, but John could see that she was just a shy girl in a new school.

      Miyu had come to the city with her father and mother straight from Tokyo at the first of the year. John thought she was lonely, because she never spoke to anyone unless she was spoken to first by one of a small group of friends. Then some of the bigger kids seemed to frighten her a little. They did not tease her much, but it was pretty clear that she was on her way to another private school north of the city at the end of this year. That was if she stayed in America at all.

      John was not paying much attention. The truth was that Maggie was right. He would find Miyu at lunch, and find some way to ask her to the dance. He hoped that she would say yes, but even if she did not, he knew he would keep asking until she went with him. Now at the stop, he looked up to see the bus coming up the street, and Miyu as usual, standing a little apart from the crowd at the stop, near the corner with her back to a signal pole. She looked like she might have recognized him, when he was distracted by the sight of a black BMW making a Bat-Turn into traffic, and accelerating violently up the street toward them.

      No sooner had the BMW begun racing in their direction, than a hand with a gun came out of the rear window, and began firing back in the direction from which they had come. John began to move toward the corner behind some newspaper racks near where Miyu stood, when a second car, a light blue American car came sliding around the corner.

      The hand sticking out of this car had a machine pistol, and it cut loose in their direction as soon as they came crashing around the corner. As bullets began to pepper the BMW, the driver panicked, and jerked the wheel over to turn down the side street beside John and Miyu. He might have made the turn if he had not bounced off another car, but John could see that he would never make it now. He was coming onto the sidewalk where they stood.

      By instinct alone, John grabbed Miyu by the shoulder and tried to run down the side street. He heard the crash behind him as the BMW took the pole, and felt the wind of the car pass his right shoulder as it flipped past him onto the curb. He lost his grip on Miyu as something hit him in the back, and knocked him to the ground beside the building on the side street. The Blue car made the turn, and raced past. The sound of the machine pistol again rang out, but this time it was all but drowned out by the screaming of running people on the sidewalk, and the sound of a pileup going on in the intersection.

      When John dared to look up he could see the BMW on its roof thirty or forty feet further down the side street. Near the car was an Asian man lying on the ground. In the car was an Asian woman, lying on the roof liner, and staring at him. John tried to move, and it was then that he realized his legs were pinned by a weight that had fallen on them. Miyu! He thought, but as he spun around, Miyu was nowhere to be seen. The weight on his legs was his pack that had somehow wound up there.

      John was startled by the sounds of shots coming from the BMW. Whipping around, he could see the woman firing down the street at the fleeing blue car, but it was too far out of range. The woman then turned back, and began to crawl out of the car toward him. Frightened, he began to stand up to get away. Seeing this, the woman began to yell at him, and waive the gun in his direction. When the woman pointed the gun straight at him, he grabbed the pack strap, and started to run around the corner, and back up the street. As soon as he began to move he heard the sound of the last few shots from the pistol being emptied into the side of the building next to his head. John ran hard...

      Walking down the now crowded street to the bus stop, Maggie did not see the start of the race between the two cars, nor the first part of the gunfight; but, she did see the BMW go flipping across the sidewalk, and the people going down, and fleeing in every direction in an effort to get out of harm’s way. She could also see and hear people running away from the gunfire. She began to run, and pray at the same time. Fortunately, she had only run half the length of the block, when she made out John running back toward her.

      Maggie began to slow to a stop, shaking with relief and waiting for John, when people started passing her. John reached her a few moments later, and grabbing her violently, he began to drag her further up the street. “What are you doing?” she screamed, as he literally dragged her over a filthy trashcan that fell over the curb, in an effort to get her moving.

      “She’s shooting at me!” he screamed back, the strength of his panic now dragging them both up the street. At the sound of even more shots, Maggie too began to panic, but her instinct was to pull her brother into a narrow alleyway between two buildings, to get them out of the line of fire.

      Once she had gotten him out of harm’s way, she asked him breathlessly, “What do you mean shooting at you?”

      “I don’t know, Maggie, but there was a crazy woman in the car that crashed, and she started yelling at me and shooting at the same time. I had to run for it, Maggie!”

      “Calm down, John! Why in the name of god would she shoot at you? You just got caught in the crossfire.”

      “No, Maggie. She first shot at the other car, and then she looked right at me, started yelling in Chinese or something, and started shooting right at me. There was no crossfire!”

      John was bleeding from the side of his head. Maggie grabbed his head, and could see that he had small pieces of brick sticking into him. She gently told him to hold still, and even more gently began to knock the pieces of brick out of his scalp. She also found a piece of what looked like a bullet that had shattered the bricks right beside John’s head. By now, she realized just how close a call John had had. “We have to get out of here, come on.” Margaret said, and she moved to the corner to peer cautiously down the street. By now, there were cops coming out of the woodwork, and they were all that was moving in the intersection.

      Grabbing John’s arm, she began to run up the street, intending to go home, when she noticed Noriko standing at the front door of her apartment. Instinctively, she pulled in that direction, and was soon in the front foyer with Noriko. She knew that both she and John had tried to tell Noriko what had happened, but nether teenager was making much sense as Noriko bundled them into the elevator.

      In the apartment, Noriko took John to the kitchen and began carefully to check the side of his head. The bleeding had just about stopped, and she only found small cuts and gouges from the brick shards. She also found a bullet hole in his collar, which she silent showed to Maggie behind his back, by putting her finger through the hole, even as Noriko continued to clean the boy’s wounds. Maggie sat down heavily behind him, as if her legs had been chopped from under her, and buried her face in her hands.

      Still in shock but feeling better, John began to shake. He also began to feel Noriko picking brick out of his head. Seeking to distract him from the pain, Noriko said “You are very lucky, John. It looks like you just got hit by some pieces of brick, and none of it needs anything more than a little cleaning.”

      John snorted, and said, “Well, I guess since Maggie always said that my head was as hard as a brick, I guess she was right, huh?”

      The joke took both women completely by surprise, and after a moment of dead silence, all three began to laugh a little too hard.

Later, Noriko was able to get a coherent story out of the two, and had pieced together what had happened. Now, all three sat at the table, sipping tea, and collecting their thoughts.

      “Are you sure you saw Miyu run past, was she Ok?”

      “Hi.” Noriko said with a slight bow of acknowledgement, “I am sure John. She is one of my customers, and I know her well. She was one of the first to come by, and she looked frightened, but unharmed.”

      John felt better, even though it was the third time Noriko had told him the same thing.

      Then Maggie chimed in, “It is almost eight-thirty, and we really should be getting to school.”

      Noriko reached out to place her hand on Margaret’s arm. “I do not think that would be wise.” She said flatly.

      After a moment she continued, “I am still not sure what happened, but I do believe John when he said that they were shooting at him. You two should stay right here for now. You should also call your parents and let them know you are OK. You also need to call the school, and tell them that you and your brother are out sick. Don’t tell them where you are, or that you were involved in the shooting, just that you are not feeling well.” Margaret looked at her friend, and seeing the concern on her face, began to worry that the horrible incident was not over as she had been thinking.

      John asked, “Noriko, what are you talking about?”

      Noriko spoke slowly, “John, listen to me. I have heard of the people you were describing, and I know that they run the collections around Chinatown for a local Gang. Many of the people I used to sew for were wealthy, and owned businesses. They call them the Tong. Now, I don’t how big they are, or even if they are part of some Chinese Mafia, but I do know that they are very bad people. If the woman was looking at you and shooting at you, then there was some reason, and it is not safe for you to go out on the street right now.” She sat back and waited for him to digest what she said.

      “Wait a minute,” Margaret said getting really upset, “Why would they want to hurt John? That’s nuts.”

      “It’s nuts or it’s not Margaret,” Noriko said with her inexhaustible patience, and her tone never changing from one of careful explanation, “we only know that they tried to kill John and that these people do not have a reputation of stopping once they start.”

      Margaret sat for a long while quietly. It made sense. She had no idea what had happened, perhaps John had seen something he was not supposed to, but it was not worth the risk. “I’ll call dad,” she said finally “Do you have his new cell number?” she asked John.

      “It’s written on the front of my assignment book in my bag, Maggie.”

      Margaret got up to retrieve the bag, and stooping to lift it from the floor, she noticed it was very heavy, weighing in at what must have been twenty pounds. “Hey, John, when did you get this bag, and what do you have in it? Bricks?”

      Looking at his sister in confusion, “I’ve had it for two years, sis. Are you loosing…” John caught sight of the bag in his sister’s hand, which was all black. His bag was red, with black straps.

      Before he could say anything, Margaret opened the bag, and began to stare open mouthed into it. The expression on her face brought both John and Noriko to their feet, and to her side. They also stared in the bag, which they could clearly see was packed full of neat packets of very large bills. The bag was full of money — a lot of money.

      “That’s not my bag, sis.” John said almost absentmindedly.

      “I know that, you little doofus, unless you’ve been counterfeiting in your room late at night.” Maggie snapped.

      Maggie reached into the bag and checked several packets of notes, most of which were made up of hundred’s and fifty dollar bills. There were packets of larger bills also, some of which Margaret had never seen before. “Jesus, there must be hundreds of thousands of dollars in here!” she said finally.

      Noriko reached past her to pull a small leather notebook out of the stack of money. She opened it just briefly enough to see it was a long list of names, and addresses, with amounts of money written beside each.

      Noriko threw the notebook back into the bag, and taking it from Margaret, she jerked the zipper closed. “No, Margaret, if all the bills are as large as the ones on the top, there are Millions of dollars in the bag, and that along with that notebook are enough to get us, and all our families killed.”

      “What was that book?” John chimed in. “Nothing you need ever know about, and you don’t touch it for any reason, is that clear?” Noriko said in a very uncharacteristic voice. In eight years, it was the first time Margaret had heard that tone from her. Noriko, put the bag behind the chair in the corner, and moved to the window to peer out a small crack in the curtains.

      Finally, she came back to the table and said, “We’re in trouble, and I need to think. Maggie, you call the school, and John you call your dad’s work to get his number. Let him know you are ok, but don’t tell him where you are.”

      “Ok,” they both said in unison.

      “I must think,” Noriko said, as she went to the corner to sit in the same chair she had used to hide the money. I frightened Maggie to see her simply sitting with her hands folded in her lap, staring at the floor in front of her feet.

      Maggie called the school first. The secretary seemed relieved to hear from her, as they had just found that they were missing, and had been in the process of putting two and two together with the stories from students from the area. All in all, it was easy, because everyone at the school knew that Margaret had a parental role with her younger brother.

      Then John called his dad’s office, and left a message to the effect that he and Margaret were going to the movies after school with some friends, and they would call to let them know when they would be home. He began to call his home to leave the same message, when, Noriko jumped from the chair to push down the switch on the phone. “Caller Id, John, you can’t call your home from here. It will leave a number with the message, and they can find us!” John began to turn pale.

“Can’t we just give the money back?” John asked.

      “John,” Noriko answered, “that would do no good. They would assume that you knew about the money, and the book. They would just kill you.”

      “Then what are we supposed to do now?” John said.

      Margaret answered, “We stay alive. We may be able to just pickup where we left off, and act like nothing has happened, that way no one will know!”

      “Maggie-sama,” Noriko said quietly, “That may have been the best way to handle this if they had not seen John run off with the pack. They know where you were, and they only have to talk to that woman to know where to start looking. If you stay around here, they will find you.”

      “I can’t believe this!” John said, and started to walk toward the bathroom.

      “John, we will figure this out, you know.” Margaret said. Stopping to look at his sister, John could only stare at her in wonder.

      “Maggie, you have a knack for fixing things, and god knows I love you for it, but this one is a little beyond even you. Don’t you go to the movies? If these guys want to kill us, then we are dead.”

      “Don’t say that, John!” Margaret yelled at him, letting both of them know just how thin and fragile her calm actually was.

      “Calm, both of you,” Noriko said stepping between them, “this will not help.”

      Margaret, the full realization of what was going to happen, turned to Noriko. “Can’t we go to the Police, and tell them what happened? I mean once we get rid of the money, and they know we don’t have it, we should be OK! Right?”

      Noriko looked at her, and was about to answer her, when John answered from across the room.

      “Sis if it were just the money, that might work, but whatever is in that book probably sealed it for us.”

      Maggie was almost sobbing, when she asked, ‘But there are witness protection programs or something, Right? I mean they must have some way…”

      Noriko sat down in the chair by the window, and shook her head. “Maggie, I don’t think that those things work. I have a friend who is a lawyer, and he said something once. They only put people into those programs when they know something, and they need them to testify. Sure if you give them the money, they will give you some cops to watch you for a few days, or a week, but after that you would be on your own. I don’t think these people would even wait that long before they came for you.”

      Noriko began to shake her head, while examining the street through the curtains again. “I don’t think the police are the answer…, or the only answer.” She continued again as if telling of something she had only dreamed. “When people are being fitted, it can take a long time. At first they make little conversations, about little things. Then they are quiet. Sooner or later, they talk. The one thing the ones had in common, other than money, was that they knew that you couldn’t get help from the police, and anyone who informed, was found out by the gang.”

      The apartment was silent for a long time, because no one wanted to speak further. Finally, John moved to the bathroom, and closed the door behind him.

      Maggie, turned to Noriko once more, and pleaded with her eyes for her to come up with something, but no answer came in reply. Maggie heard the sound of the toilet flush, and turned her eyes to the door, expecting John to come out, but he did not appear. Then she heard the distinct sound of John throwing up. She moved to the door, and knocked, but John just told her to go away. On trying the knob she found that he had locked the door. Not wishing to disturb him needlessly, she simple waited at the door for him to appear, which he did about five minutes later. When he came out, she put her arms around his neck, and hugged him close to her.

      “Listen to me,” John finally said, “they don’t know about you. They only saw me, and there is no reason why they should go after you if they get me. I’ll go to the cops and turn myself in. If you two say that you never saw me, then you should be ok. They want me.”

Maggie recoiled with horror, and said “No fucking way, John! No way!”

      “Sis, it’s the only way, it’s either that or try to find them down in Chinatown, and turn the money back to them.”

      “That would not work,” Noriko said quickly, “the fact that you brought it back to them would prove you knew too much, and they would kill you, and probably come for your sister anyway!”

      “But why? If I tell them that I did not see anyone…” John argued, but Noriko cut him off.

      “First of all, John, they would not hesitate to come after your family. Why not, they would be safer if they killed both you and your sister, because they will assume she was there too. In addition, not only will they not believe you, but also they have plenty of drugs and sick people who would enjoy working anything they wanted out of you. You are very brave, John, but it just won’t work. It will only make it easier for them to kill you.”

      “Ok, then what do I do? Huh?” John asked. “If you have an idea, I’d sure like to hear it, because you make it sound like we should just off ourselves, so as not to inconvenience the poor Chinese mafia! Well that kind of thing comes from your, background, not mine!” he finished loudly.

      The air was electric, when John seeing the look on Noriko’s face, realized that he was shouting at the wrong people. “Noriko, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… You took us in, and got yourself involved to help us. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

      “It is all right, John,” Noriko said rubbing her face with her hand. “I understand you are frightened, but we need to think clearly now. I will do everything I can to help you. If they find you, they will find me now too. We can’t do anything foolish, ok?”

      “So what do we do?” Maggie said softly. “Wait here, and let them get you too? Perhaps John and I should just go.”

Noriko looked over to her. “I can only suggest one thing.” Noriko said slowly. “You have to get away. You have to go where they can’t find you until we can figure out some better solution, but that may never come. We have to get you out of here, and far away. I don’t see any other way”

      Ok, then we go,” Maggie, said after a few moments. “Let’s go now.”

      “It’s not that easy,” Noriko said. “While I have watched at the window, I’ve seen several cars cruising around the streets with what may be people looking for that bag. I don’t know, but just getting you out of here may be the hard part. After that, I have friends at home, and all around. I can find a place.”

      “You mean Japan,” John said, “How are we supposed to get there?”

      Noriko looked at him, and said “First class air, John. You have the money if you need it, and we surely can’t give it back anyway. There is no reason why we can’t use the money for something like that, as long as you don’t go to the mall and start buying everything in sight, you should be ok.”

      “When you say run away, you aren’t kidding, are you? Japan?” John said to Noriko, but Maggie spoke also.

      “Or someplace equally far away,” Margaret said. “The west coast, or Florida, if we can keep a low profile. I’d say Vancouver, where Noriko’s cousins live, but anyplace she has friends, they may have contacts. We have to be careful.”

      Noriko answered her with an almost laugh, “Fortunately, Maggie, they are probably Chinese, and may not know as much about the Japanese community as you suppose, but you are right, we must be careful.” John sat down on the couch and began to hold his head.

      “Are you not well, John,” Noriko asked. “Are you going to be ill again?”

      “No.” he said, “but my head is splitting from where the brick hit me. That is why I threw up, because my head hurts. I need to lie down, I think.”

      They did just that, when they helped him to Noriko’s room. Noriko gave him some pain medicine, and put him to bed, all they while praying that he did not have a concussion, and was in need medical attention. Noriko was convinced, however, that despite his brave front John was just a very frightened child.

      Back in the living room, Noriko and Maggie sat at the table across from one another, and silently began sipping tea that neither wanted. The shrill of the phone startled them both rather badly. Noriko, shaking her head at the silliness of their fright, picked up the phone, “Hi, Noriko?” Her eyes became large and she said “Miyu,” which was the only thing that Maggie understood. She had a conversation for about five minutes, and then hung up.

      “Was that the little girl that John likes?” Margaret asked as soon as she had.

      “Yes, she just told me that she was down at the corner, and she said someone pulled her, but she did not see who because she had looked back at the noise of the car, when someone grabbed her shoulder and pulled her out of the way. She fell on the sidewalk, on top of another woman, and when she looked up she did not see who it was that helped her. She was apparently around the corner from John, but when she heard the shots, she ran like everyone else!”

      “Wow, so she does not know anything then?”

“No, she does not, which is a blessing. To tell the truth, she had me a little worried.” Noriko finished. “The only problem,” Noriko continued again, “I made a Dark Chii costume for her for the CosCon, and she wants to pick it up in two hours. Apparently, a lot of the people are going tonight after the set up, and then the convention starts tomorrow in earnest. I need you to hide in the bedroom with John when she comes.

      “NO problem.” Margaret said.

      Then Margaret, like Noriko sat looking at the half dozen costumes she had ready on dummies and hangers at the far end of the workspace. Sheets covered many, and it was only the stress of their current situation that had kept her from inspecting them. She had seem most of them in various stages of completion, but now that they were finished, she was sure they must have been something. Margaret also knew that Noriko’s own costume was around here somewhere, a copy of Toshiya’s blue Gauze outfit, complete with spiked collar and boots. Margaret looked around, and did not see it, and looked back at Noriko.

      Noriko was still looking at the costumes, deep in thought.

      “Margaret, how tall is John?” she asked. “I don’t know. I can give you his sizes; I buy most of his clothes, but I’m guessing he is right at five-five, or five-six. Why?”

      “I don’t…” Noriko started to say, “I’m going to check on him, I’ll be right back.”

      “I’ll do it,” Margaret said, and began to rise, but Noriko waived her back to her seat as she headed to the bedroom. She came out a few minutes later, and opened one of the closet doors that lined one side of the workspace. She pulled out another dummy with a partially completed white costume, and began to look it over. It was a short white mini dress, with the skirt even shorter in the front, and a back that was mostly comprised of blue crisscross ribbon laces. Noriko began to look over the dress, unaware that Margaret had walked up behind her amazed by her sudden concentration.

      “Noriko?” Margaret regretting her interruption as soon as she uttered a word, because Noriko visibly jumped when she said he name.

      “Oh, Maggie! Hand me that black box on that shelf by your head, will you?” Margaret could see it was marked “Star Quality,” in blue on the top, but just handed it to Noriko. When Noriko opened the box, she could see that it was a wig, that was about three feet long and looked to be a mixture of very light blond, to almost white and even grayish hair. Noriko lifted it out to the box, and examined the hair for a moment, before turning back to the costume to take a couple of measurements. Suddenly she turned to Margaret, and said, “I have an idea.”

      “What?” Maggie asked, the stress of the day making it hard for her to concentrate.

      “I have an idea how to get John out of the neighborhood. We can take him to the convention with us, and once we get there, there will be two or three thousand people there in costume. We can get just walk away whenever we want.”

      Still confused a little by the bizarre nature of the plan, Margaret asked again “But how do we get him there. We can’t just waltz down the street together with you and me in costume. Besides, I already have something to wear. What do you propose we do with John?”

      Noriko, surprised Maggie was so slow on the uptake, simply smiled and pointed at the white dress. Maggie’s eyes slowly expanded to the size of dinner plates as they now accessed the white mini dress in a whole new light.

      “You have got to be kidding! He will never go for that, and you must be out of your mind.”

      “Maggie, we don’t have a choice. First of all, I can’t think of any way out of this. Second, I can pull it off. John is the perfect size for this, with a few quick changes, and he is just young enough that if we work on him, no one will be able to tell who he is. It will work.”

      “You must be nuts, Noriko, he will never go for this!” Maggie said and stabbed her finger at the dress. “I would be embarrassed to wear that in public, how could he pull it off?”

      Noriko sighed, and taking Maggie by the hand, lead her to the couch. Once seated there, she turned to her and said. “Maggie-chan, we have no time. If the woman who saw John is in the hospital, we may have till this evening, or tomorrow. If the police took her to jail, she has probably already gotten to talk to her lawyer. Her lawyer will surely bring a description of John back to her gang. They will be looking for the bag already, and for John within a few hours. If they get the woman out tonight, then she will be able to identify him. We need to get him out now, before she can help them find him. Maggie-sama, they will kill your brother the first chance they get. They will kill him.” Noriko paused to stare at Maggie. “If he has to go naked, in a hotdog bun, it’s to save his life. I know I can do this so that his own mother would not recog….”

      Noriko paused at her gaff, and then continued. “Maggie-sama, no one will be looking for a pretty young girl in a costume, and I can do that — you know I can.”

      Margaret sat still, but Noriko could see a whole parade of emotions crossing her face. She new Margaret better than Margaret knew herself. Margaret would make the right decision as always; Noriko had seen her taking care of her brother to many times to doubt it. In the end, a look of calm came over her face, a calm of finally having some kind of plan to help pull them out of this mess. When she once again focused her gaze on Noriko, she only said “How?”

      “Well, most of the dresses have people coming for them this afternoon, or tomorrow. I think with a few calls, I can get all of these picked up today. I can finish this costume, in a couple of hours. I was going to make it with a slightly longer skirt at first, and then changed to the shorter one. I can finish the change it two hours. Everything else is almost ready now, and since it laces on, the size will be perfect.” Noriko then pulled a clear storage box from the shelf over where the dummy had been, and pulled out the other parts of the costume. There was a matching choker and hairpiece for a Chii, and some shoes, etc. She quickly took an inventory, and passed the box to Maggie, and continued.

      “This costume is ready. We simply need to work on John. We need to get him ready, so that he looks like he belongs in the costume. I expect that will be easier than you would imagine now, but you have to remember that he has to be as perfect as we can manage. In a few years it would take some work, but now that he is still fourteen, we simply need to do to him what you or I do to ourselves. The only real change will be his hair and eyebrows.”

      Maggie’s own eyebrows began a slow climb to the top of her head at the mention of eyebrows. Noriko simply said, “He has to look right, Maggie. No girl in this dress would have an Eskimo fisherman’s eyebrows, would they?”

      Maggie looked at her for another moment and got up to get John.

      When they got back to the living room, John still sleepy from the painkiller, Maggie sat him down beside Noriko, and sat on the other side of him. “John, Noriko has an idea. We think that we can get you out to the cosplay convention, and then to a hotel and or the airport?”

      “What about you?” he asked. “I’m going with you, John.”

      “What about Dad and Joan?” he asked.

      “What about them? Do you want to go home and try to get them to help? Do you think that Dad calling his lawyer, and Joan having another bout of hysteria, will help?” she asked.

      “No, but we should let them know we are OK, before we start leaving the country, Maggie.”

      “We can’t, but I can live with that.” She finished.

      Noriko broke in. “John, are you worried about your parents?”

      John thought for a moment, and then replied, “No, I guess not. It’s just that it’s a big step, you know?”

      “Yes I do, know.” Noriko answered.

      “Well what is this plan?” John asked.

      “Maggie and I were going to the cosplay convention this weekend. We were planning to go tomorrow, but now we think we can get ready and leave at six or seven this evening. We plan to get you a costume, and take you with us.”

      “Why the convention?” John asked, even though he liked this idea already.

      “The costume would give us our best chance to hide you, better than anything else I can think of, first of all.” Noriko explained. “Second, they are expecting thousands of people, most of them near your ages. I think that once we get there, we can blend right in. We can call a hotel, and we can stay in one of those without arousing any suspicion. Lastly, we can head out as soon as possible to the airport, just like we could only be at the convention for one day... We should be able to blend in, and get away, John.”

      Yes, it sounded good, better in fact than he had imagined. “So, ah, what do I wear?” Noriko nodded toward the dummy with the Chii costume, and he followed her gaze to the other side of the room.

      “Where is one I can wear?” he asked. “The white one in the middle.” She replied.

      “The Dress?” he gasped out loudly, “No frigging way! I’m not gonn’a...”

      He was half way up, when Maggie pulled him back down. “John, listen to me, a lot of guys wear female costumes of characters that they like, and there will be hundreds of them there.” Maggie tried to explain.

      “Dressed like that? That thing might as well be a negligee or something. No hooker would wear that thing. She’d never get away with it. I’ll take my chances with a bunch of killer chinamen before I wear a dress!”

      Noriko got up to look out the window, while Maggie tried to reason with John. They argued for perhaps five minutes more, when Noriko called to John.

      “John, come over here for a minute, will you?”

      “I’m not doing it…”

      “John, just come to the window for a minute, you can keep your pants for now.” Noriko said, clearly starting to loose even her almost fathomless patience. At the window, Noriko pointed to a van that was cruising up and down the street. At one point the van stopped, and two guys jumped out to stop two young boys who were walking down the street. One of the men held a bag like the one that contained the money. After a short conversation, which included pointing at the bag, the men moved back to the van.

      Noriko resealed the crack, and turned to John. “John, I’ve always helped you in any way that I could. If you want my help now, you have it. But we don’t have much time. What will it be? Do you want to try it my way, or would you like to try and get out of here on your own?” The implied threat shocked him. Well that, and the fact that Noriko was a very beautiful woman may have had as much effect on John as what he had seen.

      “This is no game, John. You may detest the idea of being dressed like a girl, but believe me, that is nothing compared to what those people will do to you if they get their hands on you.” Noriko said, once again her voice returning to its normal softer tones.

      It took about ten seconds for John’s mind to unintentionally dredge up what some of those things might be. “Ok, what do I have to do?”

      Five minutes later, John was back from the bedroom in a big pink robe, after having removed all of his clothes. The robe had been a problem, but when Noriko had offered to help him, he had come out quickly. “Here, put these on.” Maggie handed him a pair of white briefs, which looked like panties. “You must be kidding? Panties?” he asked her accusingly.

      “Quickly, John, we have no time.” Maggie said. John turned his back, and dropping is own pants, he started to slip them on.

      “Wait, John, do you wear briefs?” Noriko asked. “Yeah, I do.”

      “Keep them on then, and slip the white ones over them.”

      Once John had done that, it became obvious why. The material in the front could not hide his true gender, and he could only imagine how much worse it would have been with just the thin white satin like material.

      “Ok, now let’s fit you.” Noriko said as she whipped off the robe and turned to pick up the dress and slip it over his head.

      “Lift your arms, John… Jane?” she finished with a smile.

      “Christ, you guys got problems” he said as he lifted his arms.

      For the next fifteen minutes, Noriko tried the pieces of the outfit on him, to make sure that everything fit. He asked to see it in the mirror, but Noriko would not let him move. She whispered to Maggie that she did not want him to be worried by seeing himself before they got him ready. Noriko had to change the laces in the dress, but all in all, everything fit better than she had hoped. The dress looked made for him. With the new laces, she was even able to pull the dress in at the waste, which with the pronounced flair at the skirt gave him a waist that would look in place for any woman. The wig was a good length for his height, and covered his hair well, even without the extensions that came with it.

      “OK, John, lets find shoes.” Well they were a problem, but by rummaging through the closets, they found a white pair that would match the dress, and would fit him. Unfortunately, they were high heels. “John, I want you to keep those on, when you are not in the bath, wear them all the time, OK?” Noriko told him. “You will have to walk in them, if I can’t find something. Better when I go out. Then Noriko pulled out the cloth that had been cut for the longer length skirt. Although it did hide John’s briefs a little better, both Noriko and Maggie thought that the longer skirt just did not look right.

      With Noriko on one side, and Maggie on the other, they helped John walk to the bathroom. Once there, Noriko pulled a bottle and a box out of the closet, and handed them to Maggie. “You know how these are used?” she said as Maggie took the bottle and smiled at the label.

      “Yup!” she answered.

      “All over him, OK? You will have to check, but given how the dress is cut, he has to do a good job.” Noriko finished as she headed to the other room for her purse.

      “I understand. I’ll deal with it…” Noriko was motioning for her to come to the door. After a quickly whispered conversation there, Maggie handed Noriko her keys, and headed back to John. It was just half past ten.

      “John,” Maggie said handing him the pink robe, “Let me get your laces for you. I need you to strip down... “

      “Get out, and I’ll…”

      Maggie stomped her foot which was a thing that she could only ever remember doing with John once. “Right now, damn it! I don’t have time, and neither do you! I’ll turn my back, believe me!” Maggie said as she untied the back lacing on the dress.

      Once John was naked in his robe, she handed him the bottle. “John, listen carefully, you have to get in the shower, and spread this all over yourself. Don’t get it on your… Well, you know, but get it all around you. On your legs, tops of feet, arms and backs of hands. I’ll put it on your back for you, but you don’t really need it there. Don’t get it near your face, and don’t get it near your eyes or hair.”

      “Maggie no. please?”

      “Now John!” she said. Then sitting him on a stool, she applied a light blond dye to his hair, and putting a shower cap on his head, sent him into the shower.

      While John stood in the shower for twice the time the material said it needed, she rummaged through the cosmetics in Noriko’s room. For someone who seldom wore much makeup, she had a collection that looked like it should belong to a film studio. Maggie guessed it went with the theater costume side of the business, but much of the makeup was this year’s glamour selection, which Maggie did not expect. Thus, in between frequent checks on John, she was able to pull together everything she would need. At last, Maggie went in, and had John stick his arm out of the shower. She rubbed a part of John’s arm with a washcloth, and pronounced him well done.

      “I’m starting to feel it a little.”

      “Ok, John, shower off now. Use the washcloth, and make sure you rub everywhere. When you get out, I have some lotion for you….

      Noriko got back just after noon. She had just walked over to the couch to put some packages there, when Maggie walked into the room.

      “How is it going?” she asked as she put her bags on the couch.

      “That was fast.” Maggie replied.

      “Years of practice putting together costumes for people has taught me just where to look for what I need -” Noriko explained.

      Noriko then wordlessly handed Maggie back her keys and two passports she had retrieved from their condo. “So how is he doing?” she continued.

      “Fine. He’s just getting out of the shower. I had him keep the depilatory on for twice as long as the box said to. I’m betting that you can’t find a hair on him anywhere.

      “Very good, Maggie-sama. At lease we won’t have to deal with ‘Hairy Chii’, she actually giggled. Let’s go check him.”

      In the bathroom, Noriko embarrassed John by insisting on taking a few quick Peeks at the critical parts of his body. When she ran a quick hand over the backs of his thighs, he jumped a foot.

      “Very good, John! It is better than I dared hope.” Then she finished by checking his arms, hands, and even his back and rear end, after she first turned him so that his robe would offer him as much privacy as possible. “John, I have to say that I would kill for your skin. I can’t believe how smooth and clear it is!” Noriko was starting to get excited about how well it was going, and it showed.

      Margaret, who was still a little embarrassed by the inspection Noriko had given her brother said, “so what’s next?”

      Noriko smiled again, and said directly to John, “Brows, I’m afraid. John, I’m sorry, but there is not way to do this without it hurting a little, so just try to be patient with me, OK?”

      For his part, John just shook his head slightly. He was clearly resigned to whatever fate the girls had planned for him. This was in part the result of watching what little body hair he had grown to that point washing down the drain; hair which he knew had grown only through constant prayer that he would soon grow more masculine to avoid embarrassment in the boys shower. If that had not been enough, the first sight of his now blond hair certainly did not help his remaining resolve.

      Noriko sat John on a chair in the bathroom, and then proceeded to mark his brows with a black pencil to define the best shape for him. Maggie, who was watching over her shoulder, tried to get her to moderate her reshaping a little, to leave John with at least something that might later pass as male. Noriko was brutal, however. When at last she cleaned off the brow pencil, and stepped back, John’s brows would never pass for male. The transformation was dramatic, to say the least.

      Maggie found herself thinking that John looked like her little sister. Not only that, but she thought that he was prettier than she was to boot! Maggie lightly popped him on the back of his head for it, and went to the kitchen to make them some lunch.

      “What was that for?” he called, but she did not bother to respond.

      Noriko made no attempt to hide her grin as John frowned at her; she knew just what Maggie had been thinking.

      Noriko then picked up some scissors, and quickly cut his longish hair into a distinctly feminine style. Despite her worry, she even smiled a little bit remembering the time she’d given a stage actress a haircut, in full costume, six minutes before the curtain went up.

      “What are you doing now?” John asked Curiously, watching her smile at him. “Just a little trim, John. Don’t worry, years of cosplay, and you too could be your own beauty salon. I know what I’m doing. Now, hold still, little one.”

      Keeping still as he could, he said, “I’m not worried.”

      “Good John, because this is going to work fine.” Stepping back, Noriko surveyed her work. She was clearly happy with the result.

      Noriko then moved to the vanity, to find a small pile of cosmetics already set aside in one corner by Margaret in preparation. Noriko agreed with almost all of it, but did change to slightly brighter colors for lipstick and blush.

v Coming back to John, she told him, “Now we will have to redo your makeup for later, but I want you to get used to it for now, OK?”

      John slightly nodded his head, and closed his eyes. He didn’t like the feeling of the makeup, and Noriko was tickling him, but she was at least fast. He just put up with it.

      She was talking to him as she worked. “I want you remember, John, that all you need to do to make this work is to not act frightened. I know this feels strange, but I promise you that it is the best way.”

      He was afraid to nod, but in the end he did a little.

      Noriko quickly applied the foundation they had chosen, and blended out using her bare fingers first, then a sponge. Then she dusted his face with what she told him was a clear powder, even thought it looked pink to him. Then to his surprise, before she picked up a large brush to dust off the excess powder, she also began to tutor him on how the makeup was applied. She explained that there would be times over the next few days when he would surely have to fix his makeup, so he listened very carefully.

      He knew she was finished when she brought in the bags from the front room, and handed him some clothes from her own closet.

      “Here, put these on first.” John could see that they were a pair of skin colored briefs, made of some elastic material, with thick padding in the front. He started to ask, but then realized that he knew what they were for already. When he got them on, and he situated himself, he turned, and Noriko handed him a bra and panties. “Gee! Nor, what do I have to wear your underwear for? Do you think I’m going to have some Chinese hit man trying to get into my pants?” John was reaching his limit.

      “To be honest, John, given how you look, you might have to be careful of boys trying to do just that. You need them John, Underwear does show through most of the time.” He snatched them out of her hand, and then quickly apologized that he did know that she was trying to help.

      “It’s OK, John. We will get through this if we stay calm.”

      She finished him off by giving him a white blouse, and a black mini skirt. John did not say anything out loud, but she started to laugh a little when on seeing the skirt, he muttered “pervert” under his breath. He had a little trouble with the buttons on the blouse, which were on the wrong side or something, but handled panty hose well enough. After that the skirt was no problem at all. She finally placed the high heels on the floor in front of him, and he slipped them on. She held his arm as they walked to the living room.

      When Maggie saw him, she dropped a dish in the sink, which by some stroke of luck did not break. “Oh my god, John!” she exclaimed. “Oh, my God!”

      “Is it that bad?” he asked feeling very humiliated, and unbalanced.

      “Bad? No way, John! You are beautiful! You are absolutely gorgeous!”

      “Awe come on Maggie. I already feel like a complete ass, don’t make it worse!”

      Noriko chuckled, and gently steered him over the large wall mirrors in the work area.

      She left John to stare at himself in disbelief. Noriko caught hold of Margaret’s arm, where she also was staring open-mouthed at John’s reflection, and quickly dragged her away.

      Back in the kitchen, she gasped out to Noriko, “My god, you are good. I mean I know you’ve been doing this for people for a long time, but that is so completely amazing that I don’t even believe it!”

      Noriko actually giggled just a tiny bit. “I told you it would work. John looks a lot like you, Maggie-chan. I just need to bring it out a little. You need to be careful about how you talk to him though, Maggie. He feels bad enough already. I think he may feel just about ready to turn himself in to anyone who will get him away from me, and face the consequences.” The reminder of the danger was not the joke that Noriko had intended it to be.

      Maggie swallowed her own giggles, and nodded her head, saying, “Who are you kidding? I’d never look that good in a million years. Him turning himself in is not your biggest problem, Nor’. If I’d have known the little bitch would look that good, I’d have turned him in myself!” They both laughed then, while trying not to be heard out in the work area lest John misinterpret their excitement, which helped to ease Noriko’s sense of fear for them all.

      “Well, what now?” Maggie finally finished. “I have to start on the costume. Thank god everything is ready. I need you to do John’s Nails, hands and toes, with this.” She handed her a French-nail kit. Then you need to work with him, and get him to walk and sit and move like a girl. Do the best you can. Just be sure not to egg him on about how beautiful he turned out, or he might not be able to go through with this!”

      “Ok, Noriko, but he did turn out gorgeous, huh?”

      Noriko smiled a little again, in spite of herself. “Yes.”

      When Margaret went in to get John for lunch, he was trying to see his butt in the mirror. She knew she should not, but she could not help herself “My my, but isn’t our princess a vain little thing. Don’t worry; your ass looks great in that skirt. If we get out of this alive, remind me to kill you!”

      “Jesus Christ, Sis. This is not funny. I can change back, right?”

      From the work area, Noriko said brightly, “Time is the master of many such problems.”

      “Great, I’m stuck” John said with what little humor he had left in him, and sat down heavily.

      “Why do I need to wear this mini skirt, for god’s sake?”

      Noriko, who had come over to head off the crisis, took John by the chin, and gently said, “John, you have to get used to moving in a short skirt. If you get in a crowd of people, and try to throw one leg on a table or something, people will notice. Don’t worry; I’m not doing this to you because I am a pervert! Well, not that much of one, anyway, but you need the practice. Now sit up, and hold your knees together.”

      Even John chuckled this time, saying, “Yes you are! You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

      Noriko smiled fully for the first time since before their little problem, and nodded. She then made John get back up, and showed him how to sit down more like a young woman would.

      They had a quick lunch, mostly to settle their stomachs, and then Noriko made John stand against the wall while she took some pictures of him with a small digital camera. Then Maggie began to work on John’s nails all the while drilling him on tips on manners and behavior. The both agreed that the more he kept silent, the better off they would be. For her part Noriko was lost in her work. They only pause once, to watch a replay of the report on the local news. The woman had been taken to the hospital, but she was treated and released in police custody. “Shit!” Noriko said very softly, and very uncharacteristically. It was the first time Margaret had ever heard her swear.

      Once the skirt was sewn on properly, Noriko made John try it on, after first slipping off the bra, because Noriko had added padding to the front of the dress. She had also changed the lavender/blue ribbons for pink. The dress was, as expected, completely amazing. Even Noriko could not believe how good it worked out. However, she quickly had it back off of John, and proceeded to make a few final touches to the dress, and to some of the accessories, as well. By two, when the phone rang, she was finished, and ready to try it on him again, when the buzzer rang. It was Miyu, coming to pick up her costume. John and Maggie quickly hid in the bedroom.

      For the next two hours, Noriko had a constant stream of visitors. All but two of the clients just picked up their dresses. One twenty-something guy had tried on the frocked coat and pants that he ordered, but was quickly gone also. Miyu was the only girl who had tried on her outfit, to check the length with her shoes that had just come in the day before. John wanted to peak, but Margaret quickly squashed that idea. The last customer came just after five, and it was done.

      Sitting down with a glass of soda, Noriko motioned them over to rest with her for a minute. “Now what?” John and Maggie asked together.

      “We pack a few things for all of us, and we get ready for the convention. Maggie, take my credit card, and get us a room at the Hilton near the convention center. I need to finish this drink, first.”

      Again, Noriko’s ability to visualize entire clothing ensembles at once, and her unfailing sense of size and fit paid off in a big way. It took her less than twenty minutes to throw a couple of complete outfits for each of them into suitcases with everything they would need for a few days. She sorted out the outfits, and Maggie folded and packed the cases.

      Noriko hesitated, and moving to the top of her closet, pulled out a package that contained a black jumper dress, blouse, and shoes from Moi-Meme-Moitie.

      “Maggie-sama, I bought this for your graduation, but I think we need it for John. I’m sorry.”

      Maggie was a little stunned. The dress was one that she wanted, but she had seen that it had been quickly sold out. She had no idea Noriko had picked it out for her as well.

      “If he wrecks this on me, I’ll kill him!” Maggie sounded far too serious, but she quickly folded the dress very carefully into the case along with all the others.

      There was also a third small case packed full of makeup, and other beauty products.

      John took the two with clothing in them to the living room, and after placing them beside a fourth small case Noriko had placed there, sat to watch the news, while Maggie and Noriko got ready.

      When they came out of the bedroom forty-five minutes later, John got a whole new appreciation for Noriko’s talents. Noriko looked just like the picture of Toshiya on the Dir en Gray poster. Her natural beauty was even more pronounced.

      Maggie was a work of art. She had on a copy of the dress that Mana wore in Malice Mizer’s Shiroi videos. Her bangs were now blond with the blue-gray wigs sausage curls covering most of the rest of her hair. John had not realized that Manna was a guy, until Maggie had proven it to him, but she had the look down pat.

      “Are you ready?” Maggie asked.

      “Let’s get this over with.” John said resolutely. The hair and makeup took the longest. When Noriko had finished tying and pinning on the wig and hairpieces, John had full white/blond hair below his waste. Then Noriko and Maggie both took a long time getting his makeup just right this time, with Maggie being very careful not to get anything on the lace sleeves of her dress. The rest of the outfit got laced on to him, with lacings on the dress, stockings, and in his hairpiece. Lastly, they laced on short granny boots, which fortunately had a heel that was lower than the shoes he had been in all day, so walking on them was easy. Then, the girls stepped back to look.

      “Wow,” Maggie said, “I still don’t believe it, and I’m looking right at you. You look… well both of you look fantastic. If I had not seen you get ready, John, I would not have recognized you.”

      “You are right, Maggie”, Noriko continued for her, “no one will recognize him. And, Maggie-sama, you are very beautiful too. I wish you could enter the costume contests, but now that might not be such a good idea.”

      “I will enter, but it will have to be in the Boston convention in a couple of months. I’m sure you will win, Noriko.”

      John was silent, lost in his own thoughts until Noriko spoke to him. “John, would you like to look in the mirror?”

      “No.”

      Maggie put her arm around her brother, and would have hugged him more fiercely, if she had not had to worry about their makeup. The thought almost made her giggle again. “John, it’s just for a little while, until we can get you out of here. Don’t worry; you look stunning. I think you will be the cutest girl there!” she ended brightly and hopefully.

      “That’s what I’m afraid of, Maggie. Look at me,” He said while lifting his short skirt, and letting it fall.

      Noriko, once more moved to take his arm, and walk him to the living room. “John, a lot of men cosplay J-rockers and anime characters in dresses. There will be hundreds of them at the convention. Even if you tell someone you are a boy, they will not think anything of it. Except of course that they might not believe you.” She finished with a warm smile.

      Maggie then chimed in, “She’s right John, a lot of guys do this, and not all of them just like to wear dresses if you know what I mean?”

      “Yeah, sure!”

      Noriko began to steer him to the mirrors, saying, “Now, John, you must smile for me, ok.” Dress or no dress, there was no way that any fourteen-year-old boy could resist a beautiful woman like Noriko, so he was almost smiling, that is until he saw himself.

      “Ohhh, No!” he groaned, and would have clapped his hand over his eyes if Maggie had not grabbed his hand first. She gave him another terse lecture on not touching his face, and messing up his makeup, while Noriko adjusted the lace on his choker.

      “Maggie, Noriko, I can’t do this. I can’t go out in public like this. I know you worked hard, and it was a good idea, but I can’t do this!”

      Maggie cut Noriko off, “Just cut the shit, John. I have not been taking all that crap from Joan and Dad over you just to see you murdered by some crazed Chinese drug-running bitch. Now you plant a smile on that pretty face, and shutta’ you mouth, or so help me I’ll kill you myself!”

      “Calm, Maggie! Calmly John.” Noriko tired to calm them down, but it was the look of genuine terror on Maggie’s face that did the trick for John. He could tell that she was really scared. He was too, if he did not forget it in his embarrassment.

      “Sorry, Sis. You are right. Let’s do this.” After that, John had calmed down enough to really look in the mirror. “Holy Cow. I look…” Lost in the vision that Noriko and his sister had created, he began to turn himself slowly to look at himself from as many directions as he could see. Then as he once more stood still to stare, a smile began to grow on his face. “…I look…”

      Noriko and Maggie were watching this performance quietly, and he did not even have to complete the thought before both girls agreed with him.

      Noriko said, “I’ve got to run an errand, so please, wait here. Calm down now, if you start to sweat, you’ll mess up the makeup.”

      “Sweat! I’m going to freeze to death in this damned thing!” John said, but he was still wearing a look of amazement.

      Noriko threw him a heavy emerald green cape with gold trim, and told him that he would use that to keep warm outside. She then took the empty red and black backpack that had contained the money, and tossed that at Maggie. “Cut this up while I’m gone. Get it into four or five small pieces. We might as well get rid of it now, in the incinerator chute”

      “Why cut it up, so someone does not take it out of the trash?”

      “Yes,” and with that she was gone.

      “Maggie?”

      “Yeah, John?”

      He did not speak for a long time, which caused her to turn toward him, trying to judge his emotions.

      “I just wanted to tell you that no matter what happens, I love you, you know.”

      Maggie did hug him this time. “It’s going to be ok, John. We will make it through this, even if it does not seem like it right now, we are going to make it.”

      “I hope you are right, Maggie, but even if we don’t, I wanted to tell you that I love you. I really appreciate what you guys are doing. If I seem ungrateful, well I just don’t like the dress, but I am grateful for all that you are trying to do.”

      “I love you too, John. Just remember to smile, and act as if you are having a good time. If you walk around with a sad look on your face, we will have to swap dresses — and I won’t look as good in that thing as you do!”

      “Yeah, right!” John snorted in denial, but Maggie just smiled knowingly.

      They were sitting together on the couch, holding hands and talking when Noriko came in. She paused at the table by the door, and picked something up, before walking over to sit on the coffee table facing them. She handed John a little white Purse, with a long white strap. Maggie quickly slipped it over his head, hanging the bag at his hip.

      “OK, we are ready. Do you have the reservation at the Hilton?”

      “Yes,” Maggie said, “Under Noriko Yokoshira. I paid for three days in advance, just like you said.”

      “Good, Maggie-sama. I only wish I could have figured out how to use another name, but we had to use my credit card. Oh, well!”

      “Now I want you to listen to me carefully.” She continued. “This phone is for you, John. Keep it with you at all times. If anything bad happens, you hit star 1 to dial 911. Not only will it get you to the police, but also it will flash a message to my phone letting me know that you are in trouble. If something happens, you dial that number first, you understand?”

      “Yea, I do,” he said solemnly.

      “Ok, Maggie, you have your phone too?”

      “Yes, and I can speed dial you, and call 911 too.”

      “Exactly.” Noriko smiled. “Now John, this may be the hardest thing you ever hear, but if something happens to Maggie, or me you just run. Don’t try to help us. If they either of us, they may kill us, but not before they try to find the money. If they have us all, then they have time to do whatever they want. If they get the others, the one left has to go to the police, do you understand?” Maggie and John just Nodded.

      Maggie felt like she was in imminent danger of loosing her mind, to hear her soft-spoken friend calmly saying such things.

      “Ok,” she then handed over some cosmetics to put in his bag, which Maggie had taught him how to use to freshen up his makeup at need, as long as he stayed between the lines. Then she opened a small wallet, and showed him that it contained three hundred dollars in cash, and one of Noriko’s credit cards. Lastly she handed John a picture ID, with his picture, and the name Aya Yokoshira on it.

      John and Maggie were amazed. “I made this a little while ago with a program on the internet. I printed it and had the lady downstairs, who also does a lot of sewing and crafting, laminate it for me. I already called the credit card company, and told them that you were traveling with me, Aya, so you should be able to use my card if anything goes wrong.” Maggie and John were very impressed at the quality of the ID, and were still staring at it a full minute later, when she gave an ID for “Mia Yokoshira” and another credit card to Maggie.

      “Ok, now one last thing. I was not going to tell you this, but now I think I should. John in the bust pads in your costume I’ve sewn in ten thousand dollars.”

      “What!” Maggie gasped.

      “That’s not all, Maggie-sama. You have the same amount in your headpiece. Now listen closely. If something really goes wrong, use the money to get away, but don’t use it for anything else!”

      “We are not that new, you know.” John said bitingly.

      “I know, but I had to say it. Just remember, that if anyone finds out you have that much on you, not only will the Tong find out very quickly, but everyone else will be looking for you too, so be careful.”

      She looked them each in the eyes, and waited for them to nod before continuing. “Remember this too. If all else fails, Get to the airport tomorrow night by nine p.m. Go to the Pan Am terminal Show your ID, and tell them you have a prepaid ticket, and you should be ok. The tickets are first class, so they should get you right on the plane, and out of sight immediately. That’s a little more than one day away, and you should be able to hide out for that long, and then take a cab to the airport. Do not go home.”

      Noriko stood up “Remember to be calm, and act like a couple of kids having a good time, and everything will work. Let’s go.”

      Margaret stopped Noriko with a hand on her arm. “Wait a minute, where are the tickets to?”

      “Will you not find that out soon enough?” Noriko said, raising her eyebrows at Maggie.

      “Oh! I get it.” John said, “We can’t tell anyone where the others have gone, right?” Noriko smiled. “They will be able to trace us John, but with any luck, they won’t be able to find us before the plane gets to where it’s going. It’s just a little insurance.”

      John was clearly bothered by something, so he then asked; “You’re not sending us to Tokyo, are you?”

      “John, where is your passport?”

      “Umm. In the lockbox in dad’s office at home.”

      “Well I don’t think it will get you on the plane to another country then, will it?”

      Maggie looked confused, but said nothing about the passports in her purse.

      “Well,” John asked, “why don’t we just go home and get them.”

      Still with a warm smile on her face, Noriko said slowly. “And how will a passport for John Holman get Aya Yokoshira on a plane to Tokyo, John?”

      “Oh, yah. Sorry Noriko.”

      “That’s Ok, John. Believe me, if I could have figured that one out, I would have had you on a plane to Nagoya! That is where my family is from, and I’m sure I could keep you safe there.” It was Maggie’s turn to giggle a little, even as she stared at Noriko.

      “John? Anything Else?” Noriko asked, almost smiling at the expression on John’s face.

      “Uh, yea. Were you ever a spy, or an international hit woman, or something, Noriko.”

      “Yes….”

      “Never Mind.” John said, holding his hands up in front of him, and shaking his head ‘no’ emphatically.

      Noriko’s expression did not change as she said very softly, “Don’t worry about it, that was before the war, and we don’t talk about it because I worked for the other side.”

      They dumped the trash into the chute, and walked down the stairs with John in the middle, to wait in the lobby, where Noriko dropped a letter in the mailbox. Then they stood and waited for the cab Noriko had called. In the foyer, John tried to cover his head with the hood of the cape, but Noriko gently lifted it off of his head, and whispered for him not to use it again. Both Noriko and Maggie spent the time waiting for the cab trying to make casual conversation for John, and they did get a little thrill out of calling him by the name Aya. To tell the truth, it was annoying, but help him ignore the people who stared openly at the trio as they passed…

      Noriko had done very well by them, but like most people she had the wrong impression of how the incinerator chute worked….

By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

          Gentles all:   The following story contains reference to a form of Japanese street fashion, the adherents to which refer to as Elegant Gothic Lolita. Note, that the term “Lolita” refers to this style of clothing. This, with Gabi's kind help, is a revised and illustrated version of the story that originally appeared on Crystal’s Storysite.

Hansel and Gretel: A Fairytale. Act 2. By Sarah Lynn Morgan

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     The cab deposited them at the Hilton, where Noriko quickly checked into their room and arranged to put the fourth small case into the Hotel safe. The man at the desk seemed a little put out by its size, but somehow ‘managed’ to accommodate her.

      John paid little attention to any of this, because, walking into the hotel lobby had been just about the hardest thing he had ever done. If it had not been for the other cosplayers in the lobby, he was not sure if he could have done it at all.

      As it was, the fact that several of the other convention goers actually called out how great they looked, distracted him from his fears more than a little. The positive attention was even more strange than the costume. One girl on seeing him exclaimed “Oh look at the beautiful Chii!”, as she clapped and bounced up and down. For reasons John could not understand it made him feel much better. He just smiled back at the girl, very beautiful herself in a sailor moon costume, and waived. Many of the pretty girls there, waved at him or each other and said hello. A few more just smiled; but, quite a few came right up, asking if he were planning be at the convention center that night, to which ‘Aya’ nodded often..

      It was a new and powerful experience for someone who was usually ignored by all such beautiful young women, and it clearly showed on John’s face.

      At the counter, a driver asked them if they were ready to go to the convention center, because his mini-bus was getting ready to leave. Noriko shook her head saying they’d not checked in yet, at which the friendly man smiled, and told him he would meet them at the front door in about forty minutes. He then made a point of winking at John in a fatherly way, he walked quickly off toward the front.

      The bellhop was not as good. He took the luggage from several people on the floor up to their rooms, but it was obvious that he was trying to watch ‘Aya’ out of the corner of his eye. It made John’s skin crawl, and he spent most of the time in the elevator staring at the most amazing pattern he found on the carpet.

      “So, you off to the convention.” He asked John, ignoring the other two who’d been separated from John when the hop pushed his cart into the car.

      John instantly wanted to tell him no, that his dentist only worked on weekends, and for some reason insisted he dress up like Chobits before every visit, but on seeing his sister grinning at him behind the guy’s back, he only smiled slightly at the man and nodded.

      Elevator control panels, John found, can be quite fascinating also. It was funny how the little lights move quickly up the numbers, even as he could feel the heat rising in his face.

      “Will you be staying on after the convention, or are you just here for the CosCon?” The man continued to try and draw John out. “Great costume, by the way.” He finished, as he reached out to touch the sleeve of the dress slightly.

      John wanted to throw himself bodily back to the wall of the car, but somehow managed to shy away just enough to give the man a clear message; thankfully, causing him to drop his hand. Feeling faint, John could only smile at him weakly, and shook his head, never saying a word before he turned to inspect the seam between the doors, searching intently for any flaw in their perfectly parallel lines.

      “Well if…”

      The tone sounded for their floor, causing John to jump and heave an involuntary sigh, which thankfully went unnoticed as the bag man looked up at the panel to confirm his floor. Never had the term ‘saved by the bell’ meant so much to John.

      In the room, Noriko and Maggie watched him freshen his makeup by himself. When he turned to see them smiling at him, he just said “What?” accusingly.

      “Well! Aya.” Noriko said with a little humor in her tone, “ to tell you the truth, I was considering the wisdom of just holding up here till tomorrow, and getting you go out to the airport from here. After that…, performance, and the way you handled the bellboy, I don’t see any reason why we might be just as safe going to the convention after all. I’m not sure what would be best, but I think it would look unusual for us to arrive in costume, and not go to the convention center with the other cosplayers.”

      John was floored. He had not even considered the option of staying in the room; probably because he was so nervous about how he was dressed. His slowly expanding eyes showed the girls how deeply he was shocked. “Now hold on just one minute you two! You mean that I …”

      A half hour later, at seven-thirty, they were on their way to the convention center in a small bus full of people who were almost all dressed more strangely than was typical, even for a Friday night in New York.

      Noriko, who was just then looking out the windows across the street from the convention, had begun to show a little excitement along with Maggie at being on their way to the center. Since they were sitting behind the driver, she leaned up and asked “Excuse me, but if we buy a few things, can we send it back to our room at the hotel with you?”

      “Yes, you can. People do that all the time.” The driver said this while weaving his way through the cars leading in, and while quickly pointing out a marker he had on the dashboard. “You just mark your name and room number on the bags with that, and I hand them over the concierge when I get back. People do it all the time, and we never lost one yet.”

      “Thank you,” Noriko said, “and how often are you back here?”

      “We should be here every twenty minutes or half hour. Tomorrow, at noon, we will start running to the airport as well, but we will have six busses in the loop by then, so it should still be about a half hour.” With that Noriko thanked the man, who smiled in a friendly way as they got off.

      Once off, Noriko gently took John by the elbow, and steered him to a quiet corner of the sidewalk. To an outsider, it looked like an adult giving last minute instructions to a younger sister. In fact that was what it was.

      “Are you Ok, John?” Noriko asked quietly.

      John’s answer was very breathy and soft: “No.”

      Smiling Noriko continued, “Listen John, this will be just like the lobby only more so, so just remember to smile and do the best you can to have a good time. If you completely forget about why you are here, you will be all that much safer from standing out, do you understand?”

      John nodded. He knew that hiding in corners and watching the exits like some spy in a cheap novel would be his worse mistake.

      “Ok, then lets, go. Just stick close to Maggie and I…, and John?”

      “Yeah?” His breath wheezed softly.

      “I don’t want to make you nervous, but I just have to say this. You are the most beautiful little Chii I’ve ever seen and I’ve been doing this for many years. Try not to get pregnant!”

      Aya was moaning piteously, as they both steered him into the convention center, and helped him off with his cape.

      John was in for quite a shock. Somehow he’d expected to be in a large room with some flimsy white handmade posters, and a lot of people dressed up in silly costumes. His vision had been one of the only Halloween party he’d ever been to when he was eight. He was right. The room was large…

      John stopped, overwhelmed by a thousand people talking in excited voices under huge lighted posters and displays. Several displays were twenty feet high, while others floated over the heads of the people below. All looked like they came out of Tokyo or Hollywood. In several places about the hall, large screens were showing clips of animated features, none of which could be heard over the excited murmur of the cloud of voices. Everywhere there were flashes.

      He just stood there, at the top of the stair, until they were all startled when an excited girl grabbed his arm, causing him to start violently.

      “Amy! you did co…,” the girl had spun him, to see his face, instantly in shock. “Sorry.” She smiled. “You look just like my best friend. Great costume though, Everyone’s going to want to take you home to be their own persacomp!” She smiled weakly in apology, even as she giggled softly at him.

      She was gone as quickly as she’d arrived, but not so the flushed look he saw on his companion’s faces. They had been badly startled too.

      The convention hall was packed. Even though they expected the majority of the crowd there on Saturday, when all of the contest events were planned, it looked like many of the people had shown up on Friday anyway. It was John’s worst fear, but then again, it was not.

      Just as he had feared, John felt more like the center of attention that he would have cared to, and this was fortunate; as at first his fear kept his throat so tight that he was unable to say much of anything at all. Then, something happened that would have thought impossible; if he had been able to clear his mind long enough to consider just what was happening as he moved out onto the floor.

      Many pretty girls had quickly surrounded him, all complementing him on how beautiful he looked, and on how wonderful his costume had turned out. Before he realized it, he was so taken up in genuine gratitude that he almost forgot everything else, except to say that his big sister had made it for him, and that he had only helped a little by standing still under the threat of death. It always brought a knowing giggle from the other cosplay girls. For over an hour, he found himself posing for one picture after another, during which time he thought more about the enchanting scene about him, than himself.

      To Maggie’s horror, she found herself being pulled away by her own throng of Visual Kei admirers. She had intended to stay right beside ‘Aya’, but that proved impossible. Now she was surrounded in her own right by admirers, and by the other vintage Malice Mizer Cosplayers. They wanted to have her pose with all the Kozi’s, Gackt’s, Klaha’s, and Yuki’s, which given how many there were, took quite some time. Since she was closer to Noriko she could see that she was attracting a lot of attention as well, but to her dismay, it was nothing like the furor her little brother had started. All she could do was to hope he stayed calm.

      A little later, when Noriko finally came close enough to her to talk. She grabbed Maggie to whispered into her ear that she’d just lost sight of Aya. Maggie could only grimace weakly, and point behind her across the hall. It took very little time to spot ‘Aya’, and see her smiling little brother was having the time of his life. ‘She’ was surrounded by all manner of Chobits, sailor solders, and cute anime and Manga characters of every sort. It was over ten minutes before they could get over to him. Where as they drew close, they could hear an excited girl holding his arm and saying, “Really! You live in the city! That’s great! My friends and I…”

      Taking him by the hand, Maggie pulled him toward Noriko. Seeing how flushed, he was she held up her hand to two more girls who were trying to get closer to John. “Are you, Ok?” she asked.

      On seeing an older girl and woman leaning over Aya, the girls turned their attention away for a few moments.

      “Yeah, I think so. Wow, that was something, Huh?”

      Maggie wanted to hit him, but did not dare. Smiling weakly, Maggie said, “You scared me, Aya.”

      “I did!” John gasped, “It wasn’t me. I thought I was about to finally either loose my virginity, or give a couple of those girls the surprise of their lives! Did you see that pretty girl in the Sailor Uranus costume, she was kissing my cheek while her friends took pictures!” he finished in a low but earnest voice.

      Noriko stepped in, “You look like you need a rest, little one. Are you feeling, Ok?”

      “I could use a drink and a bathroom break.”

      Noriko steered them both to the concession area.

      Once there, only Noriko’s strong grip kept him from blowing it as he was steered firmly away from the men’s room door. His nervousness fortunately fit right in with the general level of excitement, so the only attention he gained was the same well-intended admiration.

      When he finally got to a stall, Noriko bent to whisper in his ear to remember to sit down, and then darted into one just opened up of her own. John had a difficult moment keeping his clothes in good order while using the necessary, but the short skirt helped a lot, as he realized he needed very little undressing to be able to pee. The seat was still warm.

      Later, his confidence having grown exponentially with the complements, he moved to the mirror to quickly freshen his makeup, much to Noriko’s, and Maggie’s amazement. If any of his motions looked a little unnatural, then the other girls in the bathroom still complementing and joking around with him masked them.

      At the concession stand, John ordered iced water, because he was afraid to eat with the makeup on, and sat for a while making small talk. Noriko and Maggie were as excited as he was at their reception, and were all also busy watching the other cosplayers as much as talking amongst themselves. When they were finished he began to feel a little ill at what he had to tell them.

      “Err, Noriko?”

      Looking at him, He could see that she wasn’t enjoying herself as much as he had been She was also watching, but more often over the heads of the conventioneers. She tried to smile, but her face darkened with concerned at his expression. “Problem?” she asked.

      “I think so. I think I made a mistake.” He had the complete attention of both women.

      “Did someone figure out you are a boy?” Maggie asked earnestly.

      “What? No. Not that.” John said softly, managing to sound both pleased and hurt by that realization. He showed a small smile in spite of himself as he thought that one over He had not even been worried about that for the past hour. He continued “while I was having my picture taken with everyone, a lady came by with some forms, and kind’ a signed me up for the costume contest.” Biting his lower lip, (rather prettily Noriko thought), he waited for the blast.

      Both girls were silent for a moment when Noriko asked “The pretty dark haired girl with the glasses and red sweater?”

      John’s eyes opened a little wider as he said laughing out loud, “Yeah, that’s the one”

      Noriko continued to nod, “Well don’t worry about it, she got me too. She was very persistent.”

      Surprised, he looked at Maggie, and her expression left little doubt that she had her appointment on stage tomorrow morning as well. “That’s the way to fit in Aya.” His sister, was shaking her head at him too. “I’m, so proud of you.”

      They all were tired, and decided it would be best to just go.

      On the way to the sidewalk they were wished a friendly goodnight by dozens of people, with many looking forward to seeing them tomorrow. Unfortunately, they arrived on the sidewalk just in time to see the buss to their hotel pull away, so Noriko remembering an intention, took them to visit the shops across the street, quickly steered them to a walkway designed for the purpose.

      There were girls in almost every shop, pressed against the large glass windows. Once inside it was the same story, the shop-girls were almost as bad as the people in the convention itself had been. They were very interested in the costumes they could see across the way, and since they were stuck working, they had had little opportunity to see them up close.

      Two of them quickly surrounded Aya and began asking questions about his costume. Fortunately, he’d seen Chobits a couple of times, which he’d never before admitted, believing it to be intended only for girls.

      With a lot of help from Noriko and Maggie, he finally pulled away, only to be more worried as they quickly picked out a pair of nice black jeans, and a pink knit top for their little sister, Aya. Given their state of dress, they thankfully did not make her try it on, but John was still left with the impression that shopping for clothes with them would be an experience in itself.

      The shop-girls promised that if they found it did not fit, they would quickly exchange it for them tomorrow, but both of them quickly confirmed that the outfit looked like it should be a perfect fit on their ‘adorable little sister.’ They were all back out a half hour later, waiting for the minibus as it pulled up.

      None of them talked, other than to smile and wave at a few of the other conventioneers around them, until they were finally in the room. John felt himself relaxing a little after a very long and emotional day, and went to flop on the small couch, causing Noriko to hurry over and grab him before he could wrinkle the dress.

      Still excited, he began to babble about how well it had worked, about how great the conventions were, and how wonderful it had all been. Maggie was amazed at the change in him, but Noriko was more ready for it. She just smiled at her young friend’s excitement, as she handed him a set of pink girl’s pajamas, before she ordered some late dinner, and some snacks from the menu on the table.

      They all began to get comfortable as the tension of the day drained from them, in their room that seemed so remote from the troubles in their own neighborhood, and told of what they had seen as they avoided completely the subject of gangsters.

      Later, comfortable in hotel robes over their pajamas, they ate the excellent dinner and watched a little of an old movie before each began falling asleep. All except for Noriko.

      Noriko noted, that John seemed to be smiling to himself as he slept soundly in the other bed. As she looked at him, her stomach turned. Had she done the right thing? Poor Maggie-chan, she thought, and was surprised by the tear that formed in her eye. If anything were to happen to John, her young friend would never survive. Noriko had watched them grow; done what she could; and now had to face the nagging doubts.

      It was the end of a very long day, but sleep would not come for Noriko. For two years she had let out the seems on the suits and dresses of her successful clients, and listened to them complain about what they were forced to pay the tong, and how the police were impotent. The children were afraid to be sure, but it was nothing like her fear for the young ones she had tried so hard to help raise. She lay quietly on the bed she shared with Maggie for some time before her parade of worried thoughts drifted unnoticeably into a broken sleep.

     Saturday morning, the building super in Noriko’s apartment walked through the service area in the basement as he’d done on every Saturday for the past seventeen years. He was a widower.

      His two boys did not start till nine on Saturday, and he would not be there that late, except that he had a plumber coming in on a repair in 206. As he walked to his office to wait, he noticed that the trash bin was over-filled again, but that was normal. The boys would take care of it. He didn’t actually think very much of them, but that wasn’t unusual. What was, was the fact that they usually showed up.

      He neither knew, nor cared, that both of them had already been approached, and offered a reward for the red and black bag. They were thus far more likely to notice the pieces of it that had spilled out of the bag as it had fallen on the floor beside the dumpster…

     John awoke to the feel of his sister’s hand on his shoulder as usual. Sitting up, he pulled his robe about him before the silky fabric of the pajama’s he was wearing caught his attention. Noriko pretended not to notice John running his hand over them as he struggled to wake up.

      “How do you feel this morning, Princess?” Maggie asked. “Did you sleep well?” she asked brightly while she watched him in the mirror. He smiled warmly back at her, and said “Great, really great. I had a really good dream even…” then what she called him had dawned on him.

      “Hay! Who are you calling princess?”

Noriko just smiled and said, “Who else, dear Aya-chin!” as she passed Maggie in the doorway to the bathroom.

      John signed for their breakfast, and almost signed his own last name after having remembered to sign Aya. He had time for a muffin and Juice before it was his turn for the shower. He walked past Noriko into the shower area, as she stood at the sink brushing her teeth. His skin heated profoundly when he looked up from Noriko’s body to see her watching him in the mirror. “Sorry.” He muttered, but Noriko just laughed.

      “You know John, when I was a little girl, it was still common for whole families to go down to the public baths and to bathe there in full view of other families from our neighborhood. We even had complete strangers there sometimes.”

      “Oh?” John even impressed himself with the insight and brilliance of the remark.

      As he quickly entered the stall, softly he heard from the door of the shower area. “Thank you, Aya, I think you are very pretty too.” John had begun to realize then that Noriko was very special, and in fact was just about the coolest adult he had ever met.

      Instead of getting ready faster, as John had expected, this time it took much longer. Noriko, after first calling the airline to find that there were no earlier flights to be had, she broke down, and began fussing over them all. To keep her mind clear of fear, she had to be sure that every aspect of their costumes and makeup were just so.

      Less than half way through, put off by her attention, he suggested that they could just go to the airport and try.

      Noriko did not pick up on the joke. She simply said, “The standby flights are all being filled. We’d just stand at the airport, and never get on a quicker flight. The convention, with all the people, is our best choice.”

      To John’s amazement, the extra effort showed. He thought that the girls were just beautiful. Words like gorgeous, and breathtaking, words he never had felt the need to use before, came to mind. He told them so, only to be assured by both of them, that they thought he was the most beautiful of all. Looking in the mirror, his mind was just beginning to grasp what he saw, and accept that for the first time in his life he felt that he looked very good, really weird, but very good. It gave him a funny calm, and a confidence that he could not begin to describe, especially since was still so nervous to be standing in a dress and makeup.

      At Nine, Noriko and his sister ushered him out as if he was some kind of royal. At first he just accepted it, and then asked them to knock it off. Noriko and Maggie, just looked at each other, and broke out laughing, again.

      “Come on guys, enough is enough, OK. I’m already feeling really scared.”

      Noriko then cleared her throat softly, and said into his ear. “Ahm, Aya? Don’t lean on the door, dear. Aya, I think you need to prepare yourself a little.”

      “I can handle the people I think, as long as we don’t have to stay all day.”

      “That is not quite what I mean, John.” She answered, saying ‘John’ very softly. “We spoke to a lot of the folks last night, and a lot of them think that you may just win a prize in the costume contests.”

      “What?” he asked, and looked to Maggie, who was solemnly nodding her head in agreement at him.

      “Oh, no way…” he said and began to back away.

      “Your sister and I believe that you have a really good shot at it too.”

      John was silent for the ride down. “Then why go through this? We should just go!” “I thought about it,” Noriko answered thoughtfully, “ but it is too late for that. You see, Aya, we just wanted to make sure you fit it. We had no real idea of just how well you would turn out. By the time we realized what was happening in the convention hall, well it was too late. Too many people had seen you. Now, you have to go. If we hide out here, too many people will miss us, and no one would believe we would not show up.”

      “After thinking about it a little, it was good that you signed up. No one would expect you to do anything else, and if you had not you would have looked very out of place. Since you did, I have to believe that no one would ever think to look for you up on the stage with the other top cosplayers.”

      John had a moment to think about it. He could see the logic. He could also figure out for himself that to get an earlier flight, they would have to go to the airport and hang around trying to get a flight. That would be the last place they could go, since both the good and bad guys were surely watching it. Chances are they could not get another flight together, and he dared not be separated from them. If they went in looking for a flight to anywhere else, they would stick out like a sore thumb. No, she was right, and he was stuck.

      Resigned, he looked at Noriko and said, “We can’t get out before tonight right?”

      “That’s Right Aya.” She reassured him softly. “I realized last night that I could have just rented a car and gotten you both out that way. I’ve just lived in the city for so long without one, that I never thought of it.”

      Maggie had turned from a hallway mirror, where she was working on her hair. “Well we could do that now, then?

      Noriko shook her head sadly. “No. Last night we may have been able to get away, but now, I’m not so sure. These gangs…,” She struggled for the right words so as not to pass along the terror she herself felt. “they know how to look for people. They could see us on the way out of town. They have no way of knowing who I am, but they surely have many places being watched. Probably more than the police.”

      They were quiet for a while. They only began to move again after Maggie turned back toward the mirror.

      John spoke first. “Well in that case, do you really think I have a chance to win one of the prizes?”

      Noriko just stared into his wide brown eyes, floored by the question.

      Margaret coming to stand beside Noriko broke the silence by muttering to Noriko, “My god, do you realize what you have done? You’ve created a monster!” Then looking at John, she smiled and said even more softly, in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard from her, “Bitch!”

      By then, both she and Noriko were laughing, at which John was beginning to get a little annoyed. After all, no one was laughing at them.

      When the doors opened to the lobby, Noriko continued, “You are right Aya, we have to wait, but I intend to get us out of there as soon as possible. OK?”

      John nodded.

      “And in answer to your question, I think that both Maggie-chan and I have a fair chance to win prizes, but I think you will win one for sure.”

      John’s knees were shaking, this time with a little excitement as well as fear.

      He almost fainted when a man standing behind them called Noriko to a halt.

      It was the hotel concierge. He had a photographer there, and wanted to take some pictures of the guests in their costumes in the lobby for their future brochure aimed at future Cosplay conventioneers. He confided that he had been waiting for them in particular, because several other patrons had tipped him off that Aya would probably walk away with one of the top honors. He ended by telling them that if the would agree, that not only would he make sure that they got to the convention on time in a hotel limousine, but that they would be the guests of the hotel for a fine dinner that evening.

      Noriko had no need to speak. One glance was enough to tell either of the
Children that she believed that they had drawn far too much attention to just slip away.

      Genuinely flattered however, and seeing no rational way out, they agreed, and it was all over very quickly.

      The photographer and another guy were discussing shots and poses, along with possible captions for the photos. In several shots of ‘Aya’ alone, taken on the presumption that she might win, they even had a fully uniformed hotel maid in black dress and white apron, fussing over his costume. After about fifteen minutes, he found himself escorted by the concierge to the limousine while people standing watching ooh’d and awe’d. The concierge even kissed his hand before ushering Aya Yokoshira into the rear seat, much to the older girls’ amusement.

      Their constant amusement at his plight, was definitely getting on his nerves.

      As the driver made his way through traffic to the convention center, John looked at them and said, “I know you guys think this is some kind of fairytale, but the swear the first one who calls me Cinderella is going to get it.”

      It worked just so well. They were laughing again.

     On the sidewalk, the limousine caused a little stir, and gained them all a couple of notches in social status as the bystanders all wondered who they might be. Many who might not have noticed them at all did.

      Inside, the buzz was much like it was before, only louder, as the girls were all pulled away for the judging. Being on stage was not as frightening as he thought it would be. Some of the judges made him nervous at first, but several of them, on making a close inspection said things like “Lovely” to him. In the end, he was deeply shocked to realize that he was mostly nervous about not falling apart if he won, rather than being afraid for being in public in the very sexy dress.

      After the judging, he was standing beside Noriko, when to his surprise he realized that the pretty girl dressed as Dark Chii walking up to him was none other than Miyu. She greeted Noriko warmly, and then began to stare at John.

      Noriko began to speak after a pause. “Miyu-sama, I would like you to meet my cousin, Aya Yokoshira.” Noriko said with audible nervousness in her voice. Clearly, she had not anticipated the obvious attraction that the two characters would have for each other, and in retrospect, the certainty that they would be thrown together at some point. She had just completely missed it.

      Miyu just stood very still and stared directly at John without saying a word. To their frightened dismay, they could almost see the realization dawn on her face. She was visibly vacillating between uncertainty and realization when finally she asked very softly “John?”

      Not knowing what else to do, John could only nod his head ever so slightly, and ever so helplessly.

      His eyes had already dropped to the floor in humiliation, so he like everyone else nearby were taken in complete surprise at the loud squeal that escaped Miyu as she plunged herself onto him. If Noriko had not instinctively moved in behind him when she’d seen Miyu, they would have both ended up on the floor. He unconsciously held on to her as the nearly hysterical girl bounced up and down, babbling rapidly in excited Japanese and English for a full minute.

      It took him that long to find out to his relief, that Miyu was hysterically happy, which she told John after she had calmed down.

      All of this excitement from the two little Chii characters greatly amusing all present.

      For several long minutes all she could do was complement him on how beautiful he looked, and tell him over an over how much she loved his costume. She thought he was so brave, and how most of all, how he made such a pretty Chii.

      She was so excited that John was hardly able to understand that she was excited to find out that he also loved doing cosplay, and she had no idea that one of the shy American boys in her class would not only be a kindred, but brave enough to take it to such amazing limits.

      If Noriko had not whispered in his ear when she’d said things like “Haru!” (“beautiful”), and “Hime!” (“Princess”), and “Kwaii!” (“cute”). He’d never have been able to fully understand her. It was amazing. She was nothing like she was at his school, where she seldom even smiled. Now, they could hardly calm her down.

      Of course, she was also attracting a significant amount of attention from a crowd of amused bystanders.

      Noriko was finally able to pull her aside for a moment, and explain that John was to be called Aya, and that no one had as yet figured out he was male. Miyu loved it, and went along beautifully, calling John her little Aya-chan, and her little Chii. For the rest of the morning, she and Aya were inseparable, much to the delight of the crowd, who delighted even more in taking pictures of them together.

      Aya and Miyu won the two top prizes for anime. Maggie got fourth in the visual Kei category, one of only two Malice Mizer cosplayers to win, and Noriko won third; both loosing to another girl called Princess in a Gardenia Mana costume, who took second place.

      It was mostly a blur, in which John found himself holding on to Miyu as much for attachment, as for support. It was almost as much as much as she held on to him.

      In the end, they were finally allowed off stage, where for a time pictures and questions came even more rapidly than before. Fortunately most of the questions were answered with just a nod and a smile. The best news may have been that the one person who was curious to know if John was Miyu’s boyfriend, was only overheard talking to another girl, who thought she was crazy.

      Noriko was asked for her card by so many people, that the contest organizer who signed them up the night before put Noriko’s email address on a poster by the awards with pictures of all four winning costumes…

     Across town, Noriko’s building super was long gone for the day. He was not there to see his two workers on the phone in the office, trying to get tickets to the concert in Jersey that night. It seemed that they had unexpectedly come into some money. He was also long gone by the time several strangers, mostly Asian men, made their way up and down the halls of the building knocking on doors and disturbing tenants by asking questions nobody wanted to answer. That was, undoubtedly why someone else made an anonymous call to complain to the police.

     John was tired, and although he was still genuinely excited by the time Maggie came for him. He was more than ready to leave. Miyu, calling her parents on her cell, got permission to go back to the hotel for dinner with Noriko and her cousins, while Noriko had gone to pick up their trophies and have them brought out to the front. She Might have been able to make some excuse to gently shuffle Miyu off, had she been there, but her excitement was irrepressible.

      Noriko couldn’t risk telling her more, and putting her at danger too.

      Just then, in another big surprise of the day, a hotel limousine met them at the front entrance, where a small crowd applauded for all four as they were ushered in. The only thing that they could figure out was that the concierge had contacts with the convention center, and he had been tipped off. Still, although it was the type of thing a good concierge does, it took them all by surprise.

      It whisked them back to the hotel, just about the time several men entered the hall from the other side, and began moving about the hall, and occasionally asking questions.

     Of course, when they got to the hotel, the concierge also wanted a couple more pictures with the trophies. I took only a minute, fortunately, because Noriko only allowed them two.

      Back at the room, John was very glad to get out of the Chii costume. With Miyu there, he desperately wished for a comfortable boy’s shirt and a pair of jeans so that he could face her, but they had none. In the end, he had tried for the jeans that Noriko had bought for him, but Miyu and Noriko both insisted he wear a black jumper with a white blouse for dinner. So with only a hot shower, and a half hour in the robe, he was forced to go through having his own hair styled in a short but cute and feminine style, and then put up with Maggie and Noriko redoing his makeup for the trip out.

      Everyone loved the new outfit, and the black jumper over the ornate blouse looked very stylish on him. He thought it was because it looked so…, elegant and serine. Standing in front of the mirror, he stopped himself from smoothing down the jumper with his hands for the forth time, when he realized that three very amused girls were watching him intently.

      It was Miyu who got to wear his new Jeans and top, when she and Maggie began to talk about popping down stairs to the boutique to buy a dress for Miyu to change into. It was soon decided however, that Miyu and she would just pick up a few other things they needed. Their departure gave Noriko a chance to talk to John, as she got ready.

      John had once again drifted unconsciously over to the Mirror to smooth his jumper, not wanting to get it wrinkled before dinner. Noriko, smiling to herself, asked in a level voice, “Do you like the dress?”

      John jumped like he had been kicked. “Hum, Yeah, I guess so.” He said looking at the floor. Taking pity on him, Noriko came over and put her hand on his shoulder saying, “John, don’t worry about it. It doesn’t mean anything.

      She wished he’d look at her, so that she could see his eyes.

      She sighed, and tried further to assuage his worry. “Everyone likes to think that they look nice, and they like it even more if other people think they look nice too! You don’t have to worry about that. You’ll be ok!”

      After a moment, he said, “Noriko, I’m beginning to think that something may be wrong with me.” He said it far too sadly. Noriko just smiled compassionately. She pulled him over to the table, and they sat down for a talk.

      They didn’t have long, but spoke mostly about how uncomfortable John was feeling; the situation he was in, and about Miyu too. She explained him that his dress was very beautiful, that it had come from Mana’s own shop, and that many Lolita’s would jump at the chance to wear it. Well, Kill to get the chance, actually. She even told him that girls in Japan, who could not get the dresses they wanted because they were so limited, would buy smaller or larger sizes, just to hand on the wall, and to dress their boyfriends and little brothers.

      “Really?” he asked openly surprised.

      Noriko just nodded her head.

      By the time Maggie and Miyu had returned from their quick trip down stairs, John’s spirits had been lifted a little, even if his confusion had not. Noriko’s reassurance that he was doing well enough to fool his own family did much to ease his mind. But then, it also worried him in other ways. Her assurance that it was doing no permanent damage helped even more.

      Maggie surprised them both with a pair of black patent Mary Jane’s in his size, which also turned out to be Maggie’s size for now.

Miyu came over and gave him a hug, and again whispered to him that she loved how beautiful he looked. Noriko asked Maggie to help her get into her skirt, and the girls disappeared into the dressing room. Now much of Johns, nervousness came back for a short time, but he was finding that he simply could not maintain a high level of fear with everything else that was going on. More and more he was feeling very resigned, and tired…, and a little hungry.

Miyu and John sat together on the sofa.

“I’m glad you came to dinner.” He almost whispered.

“OH, me too, Aya.” She said in a tone that caused him to look at her.

She was just looking at him, and smiling. All he could think was that she looked so adorable in his pink top and jeans. It looked very dressy on her, especially now that she’d taken a moment or two to make herself look more mature with some of the makeup she borrowed from the girls.

“You seem different than you do at school.” He said, instantly surprised, because he’d not actually meant to say that at all.

For the first time a pained expression crossed her face. When she did speak, she knew she was upset, because her English, which was usually fine, if very sparse, was more broken than usual.

“I’m sorry, Aya-chan. I know the others…” She struggled for the words. “don’t understand me.” She was looking at her hands now. “I miss my home. My father, he’s in London, or Paris. Last year, we live Berlin.”
John began to understand. It had been so obvious.

“I miss my friends. I try to talk here, but girls think I’m cute or silly. I did not know anyone who liked what I do. I thought you were nice, but you don’t speak. Next term, I will go to Northwood School. There are girls there like me, who travel from Japan. None here…”

Then to his surprise she smiled at him.

“…until I find you. You like what I do.”

He felt Miyu’s hand slip tentatively into his, and hold on while Maggie and Noriko got ready.

John asked Miyu if she might like him dressed in boy’s clothes, and Miyu shyly called him silly, and told him of course she would, acting as if it were the silliest question she’d ever heard.

      John asked her to the dance, and she gave him an enthusiastic yes. Then she told him that she had been hoping he would ask, and had almost asked him.

      John could hardly pay attention as Miyu was explaining that many of her old and new friends would just be green with envy when they got sight of John in his beautiful Lolita dress. She wanted to take him out with them.

      John was surprised to learn that she was already spending much of her time with the students of the private school north of the city. She told him that many of the children there were children of Japanese businessmen, in this country for their jobs. It seemed, that she had even been signed up for classes and activities them.

      John was doing a fair job of trying to convince her that this was a once in a lifetime thing. The fact that she did not seem to fully understand that it was not his idea, and that he couldn’t exactly tell her that it was not didn’t help at all; but then, nor did she accept that he could get out of going out with her friends.

      They were still talking when Noriko and Maggie came out of the dressing area. Noriko had changed into a long gray skirt, and Jacket, under which she wore a high necked, black lace blouse. It looked elegant and very aristocratic. At her chest was a large cross, which matched a pair of earrings she had put on.

      When John told her how beautiful and elegant she looked, she told him that it to was once again outfit patterned after one worn by Mana, and she promised to show him pictures at a later time.

      After they were all ready, Noriko took them down stairs to the dining room. At Noriko’s request, they were seated in an out of the way corner, as far away from the door as they could find.

      To John’s continued surprise, both he and Maggie received many appreciative looks, and not a few compliments on their dresses. Many people from the convention were having dinner before evening flights, and recognized their beautiful Lolita dresses for what they were.

      Where John’s dress was fairly plain in a more aristocratic style, Maggie had worn one comprised mostly of lace, a favorite that Noriko had brought along for her. It was white lace, with just a touch of lavender ribbon at her throat, and on her headpiece. Two people had even asked to take their picture again before they got seated, which they of course agreed to.

      Soon however, they were allowed to eat the wonderful meal in quiet, all of the girls enjoying the attentiveness that the wait staff had for the quartet of pretty and elegant young ladies. Three of them were starved from missing meals over the last days.

      The staff were so attentive, and the meal so delicious, that they were all soon lost in the stories told by Noriko. She told them of how her father had been a landscape artist, and how she used to go with him to visit many of the most beautiful gardens in Japan. It had been as if she had grown up in a city of gardens. Except for the occasional tear in Noriko’s eye, it was a perfect and idyllic picture. They could even smell the blossoms, for a time…

     A t about that time, in the front lobby, the concierge noted two Asian men, and an Asian woman standing together by the front entry. Being very good at his job, there was very little that escaped his notice. What he noticed now were the eyes of the larger of the Asian man…, Chinese he would say.

      His eyes move constantly around the lobby, as if he had every reason to suspect that a tiger would jump out of the potted plants. The concierge had seen too much in his years to be overly worried, but he continued to watch the trio surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye. He had just made up his mind to call for security to help him keep an eye on the trio, when the woman moved to the reservation counter.

      He smiled slightly to himself, assuming he had finally diagnosed the cause of their suspicious behavior. Two of them, and the only one man enough to get the room was the woman. Well he hoped she found it worth it.

      That the trio had begun to exhibit more normal “hotel” behavior helped to ease his mind; but to be honest, the fact that there were severe thunderstorms moving across the South from Savannah to Dallas did far more to allay his suspicions.

      Within ten minutes of the U.S. Meteorological services revised forecasts, every major carrier had called trying to secure space for passengers who as yet had no idea that they were about to spend one more night in New York. The Concierge like, many of the senior staff was just too busy calling in any staff member who could be reached to start turning rooms as fast as possible. He did not notice that the trio took three separate routes upstairs. If he had…

      After dinner, Noriko said she was going to wait with Miyu in the lobby for Miyu’s father who was due to arrive to pick her up at any minute. John wanted to stay with Miyu as well, but Noriko thought it would be best for him to go back to the room, and get ready for the flight out.

     John and Maggie were beginning to look as tired as Noriko felt. Miyu gave him a warm hug, and then to his extreme surprise, a warm and gentle kiss on his lips. He knew from Noriko, that many traditional Japanese girls never do this in public. It was surely because Miyu had lived all over, the world, and had picked up a few new habits, which they had all found out as she came out of her shell. Her father was in charge if investment relations for his company, and thus spend his time in many large western cities in America and in Europe.

      “Call me tomorrow, Aya-chan,” she whispered to him just before she broke the hug. John even like the startled looks on the faces of the diners nearby who had seen her kissing ‘Aya.’ In fact the only downside was the smirk on Maggie and Noriko’s faces. Noriko pressed her card key into Maggie’s hand, and Miyu and Noriko then excused themselves to the ladies room.

      John and Margaret walked slowly to the elevator. It was a chance for them to talk alone for the first time since they had been in Noriko’s apartment.

      “Do you think we should call the folks?” John asked carefully.

      He had not realized that it had been bothering Maggie too, until she told him, “To be completely honest, I don’t know.” She continued, “I mean, at first I thought to hell with them. As time goes by, though, I realize that no matter what they’ve been like, just up and disappearing is cruel. It’s just that I don’t even know if calling then would just be putting them at higher risk.” She looked worried.

      John was silent for a few moments, and then said, “Mags, I honestly thought the fact that we had just disappeared on them would be the best protection for everyone. Now, I think that having them going nuts looking for us will just lead anyone else to us that much quicker. When Noriko comes up we need to talk about it. I think we should use your cell to call them.”

      Maggie said to him softly. “Have you noticed that neither of them have called me?” Neither spoke after that.

      When the Elevator opened to let them in there were two older women, obviously sisters, and obviously way over the far side retired, who were waiting to get off. On catching site of ‘Aya and Mia’, one sister grabbed the other by the arm and said “Oh my!, Erin dear, look at the pretty girls. Aren’t they just lovely!” Then turning to face John and Margaret, the elderly woman asked, “Are you girls going to a party?”

      At this point Margaret was about to answer, when the one called Erin actually reached out, and began to fondle the lace at her collar, which both surprise and distracted Maggie to say the least.

      The woman who first spoke turned to John and asked, “I’m Sephrena girls, and what is your name, dear?”

     John almost told her before he caught himself. Then, in a soft voice, which was genuinely soft because he was speaking from shock, “I’m Aya, and this is my sister, Mia, Ma’am.”

      “Oh, aren’t those pretty names for two pretty young ladies. Are you girls on your way to a party?”

      Shocked at the attention that the two elderly ladies were giving them, John felt like telling them it was none of their business, but it was obvious that Maggie was taking it much better.

      John had seen it before; older women seemed to be attracted to her in direct proportion to the amount of lace she was wearing. “No, Ma’am. Our parents are strict, and we just dress like this every day.” He said.

      Beside him, Maggie made a soft choking sound, that may have been a stifled giggle, but John was not sure. Either way, the mild sarcasm went right past the two women, and the other sister answered. “Well isn’t that wonderful, Sephrena. More people should be that way. I hope you young ladies realize what wonderful parents you have. My, my, you both look so lovely, I wish I had my camera.” With that, Erin began to dig in her purse, which due to the fact that it was the size of a suitcase and was packed with enough supplies for a UN peacekeeping mission, guaranteed that she would find nothing fast.

      At this point, Maggie began to speak, as fast she took ‘Aya’ by the arm, and began to steer him into the now empty car. She said loudly, “Come along, little sister, we had better get back upstairs before Mommy and Daddy send the National Guard after us…

      Thank you ladies, we appreciate the complements, and I’ll be sure to tell Momma what nice things you said about her…, she sews all our dresses… Bye now”, she had him in the car, and the door just would not close on the two women, who were still standing and grinning at them.

      Then the ladies began to wave good-by, like they were getting on a damned ocean liner headed to Europe, instead of an elevator. Not knowing what else to do, John took the hem of his jumper in each hand, and curtsied quickly. Maggie was so shocked by the move, that she just stared at him open mouthed and wide-eyed until the doors closed

      Once the doors closed, John made every attempt to stand primly, not looking at his sister, but the fierce blush in his cheeks was a dead give away. Maggie fell apart, which was the end for John as well. They were both laughing so hard that they were crying. Again, only the fact that Maggie grabbed his hands prevented him from rubbing his eyes by reflex.

      “Don’t rub you little doofus. That stuff is waterproof, but if you smear it your goanna look like a freak.”

      “Oh yeah,” he answered while laughing and flipping the hem of his jumper up, “lets not do anything to make me look like a freak, by all means.”

      They were just gaining control again, when the car stopped at a floor several levels below theirs. A younger couple got on the car, and punched the button for the next floor up. John leaned closer to Maggie and asked, “So is it always like that?”

      “Ah Hum,” Maggie answered, “It is. No matter what, when I’m dressed Lolita, the old ladies are always like that. It happens all the time. Sometimes they have kids our age; dressed in some grunge shit, and the kids will be looking at you like you are some kind of dangerous bug. Meanwhile, the whole time the grandmother is having a hissy-fit over how pretty you are, and about how much she wishes her grandchildren could dress properly… yada, yada, yada. Its hysterical. If they had a clue, they might know that I’m a three times the freak than their own grandkids are any day of the week.”

      Needless to say, the conversation got some funny looks from the twenties something couple in the car, but they quickly got off the elevator with just one ‘look at the weirdo’s’ glare that the woman gave them over her shoulder.

      “See what I mean,” Maggie said, as she dropped a short curtsy to the departing female, which, of course, lead Aya to immediately followed suit. Her look had John and Maggie falling apart all over again.

      The doors opened at their floor, and John started to step out, only to bump strait into a large man getting into the car. He looked up to say excuse me, just as Maggie grabbed his arm and squeezed it hard enough hurt. John did not mind though, as he was busy looking at the face of a largest Chinese man he’d ever seen.

      For a second or two, John thought he would pee himself. For several seconds after that, he thought that he had.

      After a moment of staring back and forth, John tried to recover by taking Maggie’s hand and saying “Come on sis, Mom is waiting for us,” before starting out the door.

      Somehow he made his legs move, but they felt so much like rubber, that he actually stumbled into the man as he brushed past him. He made it to the hallway, where he came face to face with the woman who had shot at him.

      He tried to say, “Excuse us”; thinking that if he could just get a step past the woman he could run. No noise would come. Nothing at all.

      The woman was not looking at him at all thought. She was staring straight at Maggie. “That’s her,” she said calmly. When John glanced back the man had his hand on his sister’s shoulder.

      The woman asked Maggie, “Where is your brother, Margaret, we found his school bag, and we want to give it back to him.”

      It was the same voice that John remember shrieking behind him, and even in the close to normal tones, it made the hairs on his neck stand taught.

      When she spoke, Maggie looked with a start from where she had been staring at the man’s face to the woman’s face. “My, My…” she stuttered unable to get anything out.

      John could not take his eyes off of the woman from the car now. He saw her eyes narrow as she continued to stare at Maggie. She never even looked at him once.

      After what seemed like an eternity, “Take her,” was all she said.

      At that point, John was almost lifted off of the floor as the man grabbed his arm at the shoulder. “What about this one,” he asked.

      The woman glanced at his face for only the second time, but then looked quickly back to Maggie. “Yah, take her too. She’s a witness. We’ll figure out what to do with her later.”

      “What about the one on the board, the woman who makes the costumes” One of the thugs asked in a thick voice.

      “I don’t know.” Ling said, obviously annoyed at the question. “If it hadn’t taken hours for you to see it there, we might have gotten her too. These are the two we want, now hurry.”

      John started to turn and pull away but it was no use. It was like trying to wrestle with a fireplug. They were pushed back into the car roughly, making Maggie stumble backwards and hit her head on the back wall. John began to fight, trying to hit the man, but he was shoved into the side of the car violently. He could see Maggie holding the back of her head, with a stunned look on her face.

      John thought that Maggie was about to scream, and obviously the thug thought so too, because he brutally clamped his massive hand on her mouth with a meaty thump. John once again started toward the men, when a cloth was clamped over his face that burned his lips and eyes. He tried to struggle as he heard the woman say “parking level,” but he couldn’t seem to get his feet under him well enough to pull away from the woman’s grip on his face.

      All he could think of was the terror in Maggie’s eyes, and how much he wanted to tell her not to be afraid.
 

By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

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          Gentles all:   The following story contains reference to a form of Japanese street fashion, the adherents to which refer to as Elegant Gothic Lolita. Note, that the term “Lolita” refers to this style of clothing. This, with Gabi's kind help, is a revised and illustrated version of the story that originally appeared on Crystal’s Storysite.

Hansel and Gretel: A Fairytale. Act 3. By Sarah Lynn Morgan

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      He was cold.

     He was laying on something damp, and not too clean judging by the strong sour odor of mildew His head hurt bad, and even moving it slightly caused sharp pains to ricochet from one side of his skull to the other. Even so, he was determined to push his face away from the smell, but for some reason he could not get his arms under him to push himself up. It was hard to think, but he realized the reason was that his arms were pinned behind him.

      He tried to free them for several moments, but he couldn’t. He was tied at the wrists.

      The kidnappers.

      It was painful trying to think, but he was afraid to fall back to sleep.

      Slowly he tried to opened his eyes, but had to immediately clamp them shut, because the spinning of the room was going to make him throw up. He did not want to do that before he could get his head up…

      “Maggie” he croaked very softly, but there was no reply. He wanted to say it again, but he knew he would never be able to speak and fight the nausea at the same time. Therefore, he lay there, as quietly as he could, and just tried not to do anything to make it worse. If he could just lie very still for a few moments, just long enough to get his breath…

     Noriko walked onto the elevator, and pushed for her floor. She was tired. Miyu’s father had taken a wrong turn, and had wound up at the airport somehow, so she'd had to talk him back to the hotel on the girl’s cell phone. It was now almost seven o’clock, and she needed to get them ready for the trip to the airport, before she could decide what to do next. She had half a mind to rent a car so they could just leave.

      If she weren’t so tired, she might just do that, but she knew that she could never drive tonight. Not after lying awake most of the last night. She knew, in fact, that is what she should have done yesterday within minutes of John telling his story; but, at the time the fiction of attending CosCon had been such a good cover for leaving the city, and it it had almost certainly gotten them out of their neighborhood, but she had gotten too attached to the plan. She could see that now.

      She got off of the elevator, and walked to their door, and knocked softly. She waited for at least a minute, and knocked a little louder. “John? Maggie?” She called out, half to herself, and half in the hopes that they would hear her and open the door. Noriko leaned her head on the door to listen, and just as she was about to knock louder, when the elevator chimed behind her and opened. Out walked a waiter with a cart from room service.

      He began to push his cart down the hallway in the opposite direction, when he turned to look at Noriko. “Excuse me Miss, but is everything all right? Can I help you?” The waiter was young, and she could see that most of his interest was in just talking to her, but that did not matter.

      “Yes, you can.” She answered, "I feel like an idiot, but I’ve left my key in the room, and my girlfriend is such a sound sleeper I can’t wake her up. Do you have a key that you could let me in with?” She finished with a smile, willing him to pull out a key.

      He hesitated for a moment, only to say, “I’m sorry, Miss but I can’t do that. You can go down to the front desk, and they can make you another key. It only costs about five dollars, but if the key that I have even works, and I let you in, I could get fired. Sorry, I wish I could help.” He finished with a shrug, and turned to push the cart down the hall as he occasionally glanced back at her.

      Noriko did understand, but even thought she smiled and said thank you anyway, she still had a fleeting hoped he fell down some stairs. It was a measure of how very tired she felt.

      Noriko sighed resignedly, and stepped back into the elevator, and pushed the button marked “L.”

     John was having a bad dream. He could hear Maggie, talking in a high and frightened voice, but he could not hear what she was saying. He only knew that he needed to get to her somehow, but that he couldn’t move. He was sobbing in frustration and fear when he finally awoke again.

      He stopped sobbing as soon as he was awake, but as he quickly realized where he was, and why his shoulders hurt. He moved slowly, the memory of what happened the last time he tried to move his head made him very cautious. John lifted his head and opened his eyes a little. It was dark, but not pitch black. He could see that he was in a basement, or a factory or something. As he rolled over, he could feel that he was against a wall, with the other side of the room, which was filled with concrete pillars, was lost in gloom and distance.

      John felt much better this time. He shifted a little more, and tried to look around. The door was toward his feet. The exit sign was dark over the door. He could not see anything else, except for pillars and a rat that was watching him from beside one. He shifted a little more, trying to take the weight off of his shoulders. They did not hurt too badly, so he could not have been left there very long.

      Unable to see anything worthwhile, John lay his head back down, and tried to listen. For a long time, he heard nothing. The very silence around him seemed to buzz, and he realized that by listening so hard, he was only limiting his chance to hear, so he lay there and worried about Maggie.

      A short time later, the sound of a door closing came clearly from behind his head. Looking, he could see a small vent near the floor, covered by a metal grill so rusty it was hardly there at all. He shimmied his way over to put his head up against it.

      He clearly heard the door close a second time, and then voices. It was a man and a woman, who sounded like the ones in the elevator. He could hear each one of them speak, but he could not hear clearly enough to make out any of the words. Slowly, some of the words came through more clearly, and they were speaking Chinese. He tired to listen to the tone of the voices, but he could not hear much — that is until he heard the woman say clearly “So, are you ready to tell us where your brother is, now.”

      The image of them holding Maggie race through his mind, and he thought he missed hearing her reply in his sudden sense of panic. He fought to slow his breathing, so that the pounding of his own heart, would slow enough so that he could hear. After a moment, he heard the woman again.

      “I told you, little girl, that you will talk to us. Just tell us where your brother went, and we’ll let you go. All we want is what he took from us.” There was silence for a moment, and then he heard her. “I told you, John went to school, I was behind him when the accident happened at the bus stop. I thought he had already gone to school, and haven’t seen the little squirt since I left for school yesterday morning.”

      “So,” the dragon lady continued, “ You did not see him at School?”

      “I told you, I cut school to get ready for the convention.” Maggie said, obviously showing her frustration after answering these questions many times.

      There was another brief conversation amongst the Chinese again. John could hear two male voices now, each distinct, talking with the woman. Then he heard: “We know that you and your brother were not in school. All the kids we asked said that you were not there. Look, you may want to play games all night, but I just don’t have the patience or the time. We found this in the apartment building where the costume lady lives.”

      There was silence for several moments. Followed by a slap, and a grunt from Maggie.

      John’s eyes were tearing fiercely now, but he had to keep listening. It was no problem, because the dragon lady was yelling now. “You know what it is, you little bitch. Now you are going to tell me where your bother is, and your going to do it soon. The only thing that I don’t know is how many fingers you will have left when you finally decide to talk!”

      John was sobbing louder. ‘Tell them Maggie. Please tell them.’ But he didn’t have long to wait to find out how it would go.

      Maggie shrieked back at the woman at the top of her lungs, “Fuck you, you fucking slimy cunt!”

      This time the blow wasn’t the sharp crack of a slap, it was the heavy thud of someone being punched, and the sound of a chair and furniture, and a body hitting the floor. Dragon lady yelled again “Get the other one in here! Maybe we can use her, but if we can’t we can at least get this over with.”

     Back at the hotel, some hours before, Noriko was sitting on the end of the bed, looking at the cell phone in her hand. A strange voice had answered Maggie’s phone, before she heard a crunching sound, and no more. She had to call the police, but she did not know what to tell them. She did now that she had to get out of the room, because they knew where it was, and even thought they had already torn it apart, they could come back at any time.

      Quickly she grabbed her purse, and headed down to the bar on the first floor. She ordered a glass of wine, was just about to dial 911, when the concierge approached her.

      “Is everything all right, Miss Yokoshira?” He asked, with a look of genuine concern.

      She looked at him, and calmly said “No. My room has been ransacked, and I think my Nieces have been kidnapped. I’m about to call the police.”

      The concierge was one of the most unflappable men you could ever wish to meet, but given that expostulation, he could only stare at Noriko, his mouth moving up and down like a guppy’s.

      Noriko pushed the send button to dial 911. The Concierge quickly suggested that she could come with him to his office, but Noriko just refused with a shake of the head. He leaned over the bar, and picked up the hotel phone, and punched in the number for security.

      Meanwhile, in a quit voice, unnoticed by any of the other patrons, Noriko told the 911 operators that she believed that her two young friends were about to be murdered. After the usual interminable questions, she hung up the phone. She refused again to accompany the concierge to the private offices. She just took a sip of her wine, and silently began to cry, while she waited for the detectives to arrive.

     John could hear them coming up the hall before they arrived at his door. He heard them just outside, and then the sound of keys in the door. When the door opened, even thought it was not that much brighter in the hall outside, the light blinded him. As he squinted from the brighter light, he could barely see the hulking form that quickly moved to the mattress he lay on, and effortlessly hauled him to his feet.

      John bit his tongue at the pain in his shoulders, as he was propelled out into the hall. Still blinded by the light, he could not see much, but He did quickly pick up that where the large room he had been in looked abandoned, he could see what looked like a working factory floor a level below him through the glass windows in two sets of doors to his right. No one was there, though, the factory having been shut down for the night.

      Even if there was someone there, not only could he not have gotten away from the man who was propelling him rapidly down the hall, but most of the doors had all been chained shut.

      As they entered the still brighter room, John was once again barely able to see. His first view was of the Dragon Lady staring down at the floor. His second was of his sister struggling to push herself up into a sitting position using the wall for leverage. He could see by the way her head hung down that she was hurt, and struggling for the little bit of balance she had managed to hang on to. John’s voice caught in his throat, as Maggie slowly lifted her eyes up to stare defiantly at the Dragon Lady.

      There was blood at the side of her mouth and nose to go along with a fiery red handprint on the side of her face. John could see that there was dullness to her eyes, as if she was dazed and not completely aware of what was going on. He could also tell that she was in pain by the way she was fighting for a normal breath. He could not see too much more, because the tears in his eyes blurred his vision.

      The gorilla who had him by the shoulders practically threw him into a folding metal chair on the opposite side o the room from Maggie. He could see that there was a much smaller, and younger man standing bye the door. This one wore a sneer of sadistic enjoyment as he watched Maggie quietly suffer on the floor.

      The dragon Lady just laughed at Maggie’s defiance openly, and turned away to look at John, and said, “So Margaret, who is your little friend?” She looked at John closely for the first time, and again he felt himself unable to turn away from her, even as he felt a thrill of icy fear racing from his spine to his stomach and then his knees.

      “What’s your name, honey?” she asked with a sickening smile on her lips.

      John did not answer, not because he was defying her, but rather because he could not get his voice to work. The woman’s smile twisted a little, and then looking between his face and clothes, she tried again in both Chinese and Japanese. Now John could only stare in complete confusion. The Dragon lady then turned to her companions, and said something to them that made the younger one chuckle evilly.

      She now stood directly in front of John, and took his chin in her hand, and forced his head back to look up at her. “Another spoiled little rich girl, I see. Well princess, let me tell you a little something. Your friend over there on the floor is going to die tonight if she does not start talking soon, and you are going to go right along with her.” She paused to look at John’s face, and waited for the terror of what she just said to sink in.

      She sensed something wrong in his reaction though, because her smile slowly turned to a frown, as she puzzled over his failure to show the expected reaction.

      She leaned closeer, and gently rearranged the hair on his forehead, before saying, “Start by telling me your name, little one and you’ll see how easy it is. My name is Ling Lau, and I don’t want to hurt you, so why don’t you tell me your name?” The way the woman had smiled when she said that she did not want to hurt him, almost made him throw up. There was no doubt that she would thoroughly enjoy doing the most horrible things to him.

      “Leave… Leave her alone you bitch, she doesn’t know anything.” Maggie said softly from the floor, but John could see that her eyes were on him now, and they were huge with fear. The small shake of her head was all that stopped him from telling the truth to end this.

      Ling Lau just nodded at the young punk by the door, and he walked over Maggie, and kicked her in her side. Maggie went down to the floor like a rag doll, at the sight of which John screamed for Maggie, and threw himself blindly in her direction. He did not get very far, but he did manage to accidentally plunge his shoulder into the dragon lady’s stomach before the gorilla behind him, yanked him off of his feet, and back into the chair by his hair.

      Ling was on him in a moment, and had already drawn her arm high to strike as he looked up at her. The slap sent a brilliant cascade of stars blazing in front of his eyes, so he had no warning at all before her second blow caught him in the side of his head. The floor was almost welcomingly soft in comparison, as his body fell onto the concrete.

      “Now I kill you first, you little cunt, right after my friends have a little fun with you! You like anal sex, Princess, you like to give good blow-job after, huh.” She screamed, her English broken by her anger, and then she drew back to kick John...

      “Ling.”

      The quiet voice came from the door, but soft as it was, it instantly stopped all motion in the room as effectively as if it had been a booming cannon shot. An old Asian man stood in the door, with another even larger goon behind him. Ling stopped, slowly walked over to him, where they had a very soft conversation. It was the reactions of the two goons already in the room that impressed John the most. They had both gone from outright sadistic glee to visible nervousness in the space of a heartbeat.

      John felt himself picked up and put back in the chair, while the punk did the same to his sister putting her on a small couch in the corner of the room. The ringing in his ear had started to subside only a little, when he asked hoarsely, “Maggie, are you ok?” It got him a cuff on the back of the head, but he hardly felt it after the blow landed by Ling. Maggie, still unable to speak, only grunted, and tried to nod her head, but she did not look up at him. So, they sat in silence for a little while longer.

      Then the man told Ling to close the door, which she did, locking it with a flip of the bolt high on the door. John’s confusion quickly turned to a moment of stark terror, when at a soft order from the old man, the young punk flipped open a butterfly knife, and reached for Maggie. John tried to lunge again, but his legs did not move. He only had time to say “Stop” softly, before the punk had reached down and cut the plastic tie from his sister’s wrists.

      John saw Maggie reach for her left arm with her right hand, and then gently lift it to cradle both at her abdomen. The punk was then at John’s side, and roughly pulled him forward to cut his bonds as well. John’s only thought was to reach Maggie, so he began to stagger up to reach her. The punk pushed him back, but at another word from the old man, stepped back, and watched as John moved to his sister, and cradled her in his lap as she slowly started to cry silently under the gaze of the fierce woman, and the quiet old man.

     "What you have not told us, Miss Yokoshira is why?” the detective said tersely. He was a large black man, and it was obvious that he viewed her Asian ancestry with a great deal of suspicion. He had practically told her that he thought she was involved with the Tong.

      “I told you already, Lieutenant, there was money in the bag, and a book. What don’t you understand? That little girl and boy are out there in the hands of killers who think they have something that they don’t. Why don’t you get off your callused overpaid ass, and go and look for them!”

      Noriko had not actually raised her voice, but for the look on the detective’s face, she might have screamed it. After a full minute of silence, the detective asked again. “How much Money was in the bag?”

      “I didn’t stop to count it.” She said softly.

      “What was in the book?”

      “Names, and numbers. I don’t remember what they were.” She stared at him with an unnatural calm.

      “So you don’t remember even one name?”

      “I’ve told you,” she said, again loosing patience, “go and get the book, and you can read it all you want.”

      “We are getting a court order for that now, Miss Yokoshira, and I have to tell you that if you don’t start cooperating, you will be charged with the theft of the money, and kidnapping of two minors.” He was rising now, leaning across the table toward her. “Now how about something that resembles the God Damned TRUTH!” The detective ended by yelling into her face.

      Noriko could only stare in horror. Then her mouth formed a straight line, and then her anger was let loose on the detective, and at the mirror on the side of the room.

      “OK, Here is your cooperation. You charge me and give me my phone call. I’ve already told you, that I sent a letter from the Hotel to the police commissioner’s office telling him where the money was. If you can make that charge, you’ll be one lucky Sonofabitch. You can also charge the woman who tried to get those two kids away from cold-blooded killers with kidnapping. You can also explain that you wanted to interrogate me while they are probably being murdered; but, I’ll tell you this, detective, in two hours, no matter what you do, I’m going to walk into the offices of the New York Times. In six hours everyone in the country is going to know just how large and incompetent an asshole you and every other asshole detective in this department really are. And, if those children are harmed while you sit here on your incompetent stupid ass,” She yelled as loudly as he had, “one week from today, you will be filling out applications to pick up dog shit in central park, and praying that you get the job. But you had better charge fast, you dumb Son-of-a-bitch, because that’s the only way you are going to keep me in this room even one minute more...”

      Noriko had risen to her feet, and was even debating taking a swing at the dumbfounded detective, when she heard the click of the doorknob being turned behind her.

      The older man, who walked in, just looked at the dumfounded detective and said, “Get out, Jackson.”

     John flinched as the dragon lady took his chin, and lifted his face from the back of Maggie’s head. She was being gentle, this time, but John could still see the hatred in her eyes.

     John was pulled to his feet, to stand before the old man. For his part, the old man just looked him up and down for a moment, before he moved toward Maggie, who was now sitting up on the couch, but leaning heavily on the arm for support. The old man turned and took a cloth from the gorilla, and then gently reached out to wipe Maggie’s face with it. Maggie closed her eyes, in spite of herself, as the cool cloth brought her first relief in hours.

      “It is such a shame that you are going to force us to kill you,” the old man said in one of the kindest voices she had ever heard. Maggie, reacted like she had been slapped again, and recoiled from the gently smiling old man in front of her. “This could have been so much easier, and you are such a pretty little girl. Oh we won’t kill you tonight, don’t worry about that. We will find out where your brother is, and then we will send you off to some friends of mine. They will arrange for you to be sold to a rich client, and you may even be treated well for a few months, - well most of the time anyway.” The old man smiled at her like someone’s grandfather talking about a trip to the zoo.

      “After that though…” the old man continued as Ling beamed over her brother’s head at her, “when he or she tires of playing games with you, and if there is anything left, we put you in a place where you can work to make some of our money back. After two or three years, when you are no longer a cute little girl, you have to work very hard to pay us. If you not work hard, we put you in a film for other special clients. Do you know what a snuff film is? NO? Well let’s just say that it’s a film for people of a certain rare taste. They like to watch some whore get gang raped, and then slowly strangled or suffocated. I’ll even make sure your Father gets a copy. Now, if you had been alone, we could never make back all of our money. Most of it, though, probably.

      Now, since you have thoughtfully brought your pretty little friend along, we can certainly make back more than your brother took from us. So you see, when we do find him, and we have our money, it will be simply a matter of honor for us to make an example of you both; and…, we will find him.”

      The horror of what he was saying, combined with his saintly smile, and his gentle voice and ministrations were more that Maggie could endure. She felt as if she was going to loose her mind. She was so filled with horror at the evil man’s pronouncement that she could only stare mutely at him, frozen in place, as he gently finished wiping her face lovingly with the damp cloth.

      The old man then walked over to a small table, and picked up a pair of tin snips and examined them for a moment. He then placed them back on the table, and instead chose a large pair of pliers. He walked over to the young thug, and handed the pliers to him. Turning to the gorilla, he nodded, and Maggie felt her arms once again pinned behind her, as she could only stare in horror at the old man. He stared back at her for an eternity.

      Then the old man turned to Ling, and indicating John said, “Take off her shoe and pull her toes off, start with the little toe on each foot.” John tried to push back against Ling, and Margaret thought he had fainted, but then she heard him whimper as Ling put him in a headlock.

      It was too much for Maggie. She had tried so hard, but just could not think any more. She knew that they were both dead either way, but that did not matter. All she new in her tortured mind was that she had to stop them from hurting John even if she die. She did not even realize that the animal shriek had come from her. She flailed and twisted from the large man’s grip, heedless of the tearing sound coming from her shoulder.

      “No!” she shrieked again. “Don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything. Leave him alone, please. Please don’t hurt him, it was me! I took the money. It was me. He doesn’t know where it is…” The gorilla had finally worked loose one hand, and slapped her on the back of the head, which made her vision go black, but still Maggie pleaded, weakly. “Run, John. Don’t hurt him, please…. it was me…” Her sobs became continuous.

      John watched the old man quickly step across to Ling’s gorilla and with a full swing of his arm, slap the gorilla right across his face. The gorilla didn’t move, either from the heavy blow, or in an effort to shield himself. John could see his eyes though, and he knew that he would probably be the one to kill both he and his sister that night.

      The old man barked an order, biggest goon moved behind John to lock his arms, and hoist him fully up on his feet. The dragon lady came around to look at his face with an expression of awe. She slowly looked more closely at him, and shook her head chuckling. The old man just watched as if he had no particular interest in any of this.

      Then the Dragon lady slowly walked right in front of John, and lifted the hem of his dress. John felt her fingers on his belly, as they slipped beneath the waistband of his panties.

      John turned his head away, and began to whimper, “No…, please…” as he began to cry.

     Ling just smiled and pushed her hand down into Johns Panties, and examine what she found there. Her eyes were wide, with wonder as she squeezed, and then pulled the panties out further so that she could see. John continued to whimper, and dance on his toes in an effort to escape, but it was no use. With his shoulders pinned back by the Ancient’s goon, he couldn’t even turn himself away.

      Then to John’s horror, the old man walked over beside Ling, and also looked.

     For one horrible instant, as Ling finally removed her hand and pulled his panties out even further forcing his hips forward, John was sure the old man would give him the same examination. In the end, though, he only looked down the panties that Ling held open for his inspection. John tried to sidle away, but the punk wrenched his arms viciously.

      “Carefully, Mister Le. Don’t hurt him.” and the old man took John’s chin in his hand and gave him a most minute inspection. “This little one is probably worth many times what his sister is to our friends in Singapore. No marks. Let him go.”

      Once again released, John stumbled over to Maggie to again cradle her in his lap. She was still chanting softly for him to run, while at the same time clutching fiercely to him. He tried to comfort her, oblivious to a brief conversation between Ling and the old man.

      It surprised him when he realized that Ling was once more standing over him, and he flinched out of instinct, but she did not strike this time. “Where is the money?” Ling asked him as she grabbed Maggie’s hair and slowly entwined it about her fingers as she braced to pull her brutally away from him.

      “It’s in the hotel safe.” he heard himself say in a whimper, as he reached out his shaking hands and began with exquisite care, to gently untangle Maggie’s hair from their tormentor’s fingers.

      “And the Book?” Ling asked sharply “It’s in the safe?”

      He nodded as he cradled Maggie once more with both arms.

      Ling was laughing at him as she picked up the tools on the little table and left with the old man and both goons.

      The sound of the door slamming still echoed when the sound of a chain being pulled through the door came loudly from the other side.

      John did not know how long he cradled Maggie, it could have been hours, or it could have been days. He only knew that no matter what he whispered to her, she continued to plead softly for him to run, as if she didn’t realize he was there, for as long as he could remain conscious…

     Noriko walked out of the offices of the New York Times, and paused on the sidewalk in the early morning gloom. It was never quiet in the city, but this was the quietest part of the day. She took a deep breath, amazed at how calm she felt. She knew that it was only temporary. The weak feeling in her stomach was still there, still threatening to overwhelm her at any moment. She may only have minutes left before she’d crash. So with one more look at the lighter sky in the east, she walked over to the unmarked car that waited for her at the curb, and slid in.

      Mason, Chief of detectives in the 53 Precinct, and the man who’d thrown Jackson out of the interrogation room, sat sideways in the seat beside her. He said nothing for perhaps a full minute, and then in a quiet voice asked, “How did it go?”

      Noriko did not look at him, and did not answer. She simply nodded her head. Mason continued to stare for a moment or two more.

      “Did you tell them what I told you?” He asked.

      “Yes,” Noriko said calmly. “I told them the story just as we agreed. They just loved it. An exclusive interview, two kidnapped children, and police incompetence…”

      Mason completed the thought for her. “The night editor looked like he needed a smoke, I bet. It’ll be on the eight a.m. news.”

      They were both silent for several minutes.

      Mason laughed bitterly, “Yeah, Old Charlie has been doing this job for ten years, and will probably be doing it until his ulcer explodes, or someone steps up and kills him. You are sure you did not give them any information that would allow them to identify the kidnappers right away?” He asked with genuine concern.

      Noriko once again, just nodded her head mutely.

      “Good,” the detective continued, “we want to put some pressure on so that they will be afraid to move the kids, but not too much. If they think we have them, we’ll never find the small pieces…”

      Even in the pale light, the detective could see he had made a mistake, and felt sorry for his choice of words, but he had a job to do. It was bad enough to risk the chief ever finding out that it was his idea for Noriko to expose the incompetence of the detectives who would replace him when he retired. If he did find out, then Mason would be out with no hope of parole as they say, less than two weeks before he was to trade his gold shield for his pension. Either way, though, it would be a gift for the citizens of New York if he succeeded in burning this bunch of thugs. They were almost the worst he’d seen.

      Even more than his own personal worries, though, he wanted those kids back. If anything happened to them, he’d live with it for the few years he had left. These two he needed to find almost as much as the woman sitting beside him. Their pictures were still warm in his pocket, where he had been examining them while Miss Yokoshira had been interviewed. Given what he had seen when he interviewed the parents, he was sure how badly they needed him, because they had no one else. He felt himself realize sadly, that he needed to be the best, just one last time. At least that’s what he had prayed for. The prayer was because he only hoped he had one more in him.

      “Miss, Yokoshira, we still have a chance, but I will need your help. Okay?” He said, hoping they had had enough time.

      “Anything. Just get them back.” was all she said.

      The detective slid back straight in the seat behind the wheel, and started the car. “If the children are killed, there could still be trouble for you, if the father wants to make it.” He said as he looked in his mirror, waiting for several cars to pass.

      “That doesn’t matter,” Noriko said quietly and after a pause continued, “Is there anything else we can do?”

      The detective slipped the car into gear, but did not look at her as he answered, “Well we have photos out to every patrolman in the city. Our detectives are at the hotel, and in your neighborhood. We know where some of the lesser members of the gang can be found so we are watching them to see where they may lead us. If they make a mistake we have a good chance to…”

      Her voice was so soft, that were it not for the frightening dead flat tone, he might not have heard her at all. “Isn’t there anything more we can do?” She asked.

      Even with all his years, her tone made the hairs on his neck stand up. Still not looking at her, the detective shook his head slightly. “No. Not a God-Damned thing.”

      He pressed the gas pedal, and the car slowly moved out into the light traffic.

     The night man on the desk at the Hilton had been busy for several hours. Unlike most of the city, who wouldn’t even be awake yet, he had guests who were racing to fill planes to all points. The kitchen was running close to full staff already, to meet the needs of their overnight guests, most of whom had been too tired from long stays in terminals to eat when they arrived. They were also there to prepare for another full day of banquets and receptions.

      He, on the other hand had only two clerks with which to get the people out and on their way. To make it worse, he was still trying to confirm that housekeeping would have the staff to re-clean fifty more rooms by ten, so that he could meet his reservations for the coming morning. If they could not, he would have to upgrade some of the reservations to better rooms, by noon. It would start a cascade of room shifting, which would go on for days in this busy season, and worse it would cost the hotel a lot of money. He would certainly get a good part of the blame. In short, while most people in the city still slept, he had already had a long bad ‘day.’

      He looked up for the minibus driver, hoping to direct his attention to some luggage behind a post on the other side of the lobby, but saw one of his junior clerks already caught the man with a sharp snap of her fingers, while somehow holding two phones to her ears. Ordinarily, it would have merited a quick talking-to in the back office, or at least a dirty look from the driver, but this morning it only got a nod. He noticed too, that there were two more people approaching his counter.

      He looked them over, and seeing how young they were, and their manner of dress, he looked behind them for older adults in the party. In this day and age, he knew that people seldom dressed very well to travel, but they usually dressed better than this. Even though he was tired, his curiosity was piqued. At certain times of the day, all kinds of people wandered into lobbies of hotels. Most of the worst sort knew instinctively that they would not be tolerated, but there were always a few. Those few seldom showed up at six-thirty a.m., however.

      The manager took a call, but continued to watch the two young men talking quietly to each other. He might not have the instincts of someone like their concierge, but even he could not miss this. He finished the call, without even remembering what it had been about, just as the two young men finally walked to the reservations counter.

      “Good Morning,” he greeted them with the same level of cheerfulness he would have used for a movie star, the automation of too many years of practice.

      “Ahm, yah, excuse me,” the one he looked at began to speak, “but I was wondering. We were in the other day, and put something in the safe, and we would like to get it back. Are you the one we talk too?”

      Now of course the desk manager had some idea of what had gone on in the hotel the night before, everyone did, but he had almost no details. Even though he did not immediately connect the strange request to those events, he knew these two did not have anything worth putting in a safe. He had learned, like anyone who had long been in the hotel business, that when someone had money, but they still ‘dressed down’, there were clues. Five-dollar shoes - but a two hundred dollar hair cut. Perhaps it might be ten-year-old blue jeans, and a ten thousand dollar watch. It was something you had to be able to spot, or you could piss off the son of the guy who would buy the hotel just to put you out on the street.

      He was fairly good at knowing who was who, from who was Who’s Who — as the old hotel joke went, which is why he’d lasted so long.

      He looked at them for almost a moment too long, and the young man spoke again under the pressure.

      “We have our room number.” The young man ventured hopefully as he slid a room key across the counter, but his nervousness showed. He was wishing very hard that he had turned down the offer of a hundred bucks for each of them to ‘run a little errand’; but he was still determined to brazen it out, unlike his speechless friend. After all he would have to slave for the super for two weeks to clear that much. He was, however, beginning to loose his nerve.

      The desk manager responded, without ever loosing his smile. “Of course, Sir. I am the person you need. If you will just give me the room number and guest name, I’ll check the inventory. I’ll also need a picture ID on you, to verify our records.”

      The desk manager even put his hand on the counter, in the impossible chance that the young man actually produced ID. For just a moment the silent one beside the speaker actually twitched as if he was ready to reach for his pocket, but he too stopped short.

      “Ahm, I’m not sure if I have my ID, I might have left it in the car. Can’t you give us a break?” the speaking partner almost squeaked.

      The Desk manager almost called the bluff, but something he could not quite put his finger on held him back. “Well I’ll see what I can do, Guest name, and room number?”
“Room seven-eighteen, under Noriko Yokoshira, she’s my friend… My girlfriend. She’s my girlfriend!”

      It clicked at the mention of the name. Even the deskman was nervous now, but sought to cover it up by typing in the room.

      Of course, it came up as out of service, police permission required for entry, “report all contacts.” However, the manager had not read a word on the screen but simply stared. It gave him the chance to click the mouse button four times on an icon at the top of the screen. If they were awake back in the security office, it should call his station to their attention, and enable them to even pull up the same screen he was viewing.

      They were awake. Out of the corner of his eye, the deskman saw at least two different cameras swing toward him. He could not see four other hidden cameras that had already snapped toward his position.

      “And your name sir?” he asked as casually as he knew how.

      “Aaah…, Brad.”

“Your last name, sir.” Knowing that the first name was fake, he hoped to take one last chance to rattle him.

      “Ahm… Williams. Hey look, if I need to I can get my girl to pick this thing up later today. Will you be here?”

      The deskman was about to try to keep the young man talking, but he saw at that moment, a house detective step through a door into the lobby with another man he didn’t know, and give him a sight nod. “No, Sir, but anyone can help you, I’m sure. Just come to the desk.” he smiled, a little sickly this time, but still nothing to tip the two.

      The two boys were already headed to the door at an admirable speed, so they did not even have the chance to wonder at the out of place nature of his smile. That was ok. They now had a corporate house detective, and two NYC detectives in tow…

     John awoke, with not so much of a start, as with overwhelming confusion. Margaret, who was lying against him, had moaned in her sleep. For a moment or two he could not understand why his sister was curled up against him, and clutching him so tightly in her sleep that he could not move. He wanted to do so badly, because something was digging into his hip. Then it came back to him. He quickly looked about the room, like a trapped animal, fearing that there may be some other physical danger about to fall upon them.

      John began to shift as carefully as he could, so that he did not hurt Maggie. He had not been able to get her to respond to any questions last night, but he was pretty sure that she had been hurt inside. All he had been able to do was to hold her while she kept calling for him. He did know that when he touched her left arm, or her left side, she flinched and silently tired to turn that side away from him to protect it.

      Never the less, John was finally able to lift himself without waking, Maggie. Reaching down between the cushions, he was surprised to find that he had slept on the large pair of toenail clippers. Carefully, he slipped the clippers back under the cushion, and ran his hand along the crack as far as he could reach, to see if there was anything else useful. There was nothing else of value but an old book of a few matches, and a plastic fork in napkin packet from some fast food restaurant. Mostly it was just some candy wrappers, and a few small coins. John placed some of the items on the arm of the couch for the time being. After searching one more time, he slipped what he had retrieved into a small pocket in his jumper.

      John then began to examine Maggie. She had a black eye, and her face was bruised on both sides, but her left cheek was the worst. She had dried blood on her dress, and in her nose. Looking at her head, he could see where she had some blood in her hair, but as he carefully moved the hair, he could tell that the cut he found there was not very deep. He prayed that she did not have a concussion, because he did not really even know what one was, let alone how to help if she did. He only knew that it was bad

      Then, most carefully of all, he began to run his hand down Maggie’s left arm. He could feel that her elbow was swollen, and her wrist looked swollen too. He moved her wrist and hand, which caused her to moan.

      John began to cry softly over his sister. He knew that it was a stupid thing to do, but he could not help it. The fact that he knew that he should be trying to find a way to get help, or at least think of a way to keep them from killing them outright, made him feel even worse. He had always known that he owed Maggie more than he could ever repay for all that she had done for his whole life; and, now that she needed him so badly, he had no idea what to do. What she had done last night had stunned him almost as much as it had broken his heart. All he could seem to think about, was how she had been willing to let them beat her to death — to protect him.

      In the end, all he could do was to pray that she was OK. Not knowing what to do for her was almost worse than when they had come at him last night. So he cried silently, so as not to wake his sister to the horror of where they were.

&Nbsp;
 

      Some time later, when his head began to clear, he managed to get up, and move around. He looked around the room for any sign of escape, but found nothing. He also tried to call out softly at the door to see if there was anyone on the other side. If there was, he did not hear any response. It was while checking the door that Maggie began to shift, and trying to sit up.

      John rushed back over to his sister, and helped her up gently. She was sitting up, before her eyes rose to see his face. She did not say a word, but simply slipped her right arm around his neck, and pulled his head tightly to her shoulder. He felt silly that he was crying again, but not that much. This time it was relief.

      “Are you Ok, Maggie?” He whispered softly.

      Maggie groaned, and released him slowly. She tried to say something, but could not until she cleared her throat, an action that clearly hurt her, judging by the face that she made the first few times she tried.

      “I’m… I’m OK.” she managed.

      “Can I look at your side?” John asked.

      Maggie tried to raise her blouse up on the left side, but she could not make it. John helped her, seeing more bruises on her legs, and then on her side, just at the bottom of her ribs.

      “God, Maggie,” he said as he looked at her side, “That looks bad. I’m so sorry.”

      “Not you, John.” The effort of talking clearly cost her.

      John asked if there was anything he could do

      “I hurt, John, but I’ll be ok, I think.” Maggie said probing her own side gently.

      “What did they hit you with?” John said, looking for the cloth they had used last night, and gratefully finding it, along with some napkins, on the side of the couch. Of course, by now only very slightly damp, so he licked the corner, as he gently tried to clean his sister’s face.

      “Didn’t.” Maggie began. “Bitch knocked me off the chair. Big one, picked me up, and threw me back, but the chair fell over, and I fell over the side of it.” Maggie finished panting for breath. “Hurts. Hands tied, I fell over side of chair. Think I passed out, because I woke up on the couch.”

      “I’m so sorry, Maggie. You should have told them sooner.” John began…

      For the first time, Maggie moved quickly, as she looked up, and looked at his face, but clearly she was not focused on him. She was remembering what had happened last night.

      “Oh god, John. I’m sorry. I told them it was you…” She began to sob freely.

      “It’s OK, Maggie. You had to. If you hadn’t we would both be dead. It’s ok You saved us.” John said to her as convincingly as he possibly could. Maggie just nodded her head.

      “I have to Pee.” She said softly, looking about the room. “Bad” And then she tried to smile at him

      He almost laughed, because it had come out of nowhere, but the humor only lasted for moments — as he realized that he did too.

     Detective Alan Baxter had only been on the job for two weeks. He had spent most of his career in uniform for the 53rd. He loved the people he worked with, or most of them. He loved the job — usually. Not today. Detective Jackson had transferred in from another precinct four months before. He was supposed to be training Baxter, as the newest detective in the unit, but Baxter had forgotten more about police work than this Jackson guy ever knew. His mother had forgotten more about police work than this guy ever new. He had almost blown the tail two separate times.

      It was good though. Mason had pulled him aside, and talked to him before they left the station. “I know you’ve been here since you were born; but, just keep your eyes open. You are a detective now, Baxter. I recommended you, so I want you to do well, but more than that, I want you to get those kids back. You watch yourself out there. If you find them, don’t do anything, unless they try to move them. These are bad people; as bad as any you will ever meet. If they do try to move them, and you have to move in, shoot first, and don’t stop until they are down. We’ll do what we have to afterwards. Understood?”

      Baxter had been a little shocked, but he knew the score. This was one of those jobs where cops would die the moment they screwed up. These Asian hoods were always having their wars, like in the old west. They would not hesitate to pop anyone who got in their way, cops included. The few guys in the Tong, whom he had met personally, would have gladly come at him the first chance they got, and he knew it. So be it. It would be no quarter if it came to it. If only Jackson could keep from blowing the fucking tail…

      Baxter squeezed the microphone. “Jackson!… Unit C is in place, and we should turn off now. I think we should ease back a little, and take the next left, and follow on 83rd.” He said as casually as possible, when Jackson had missed his turn off...

     John was looking around for something for them to use, but all he found was a small office type plastic trash can under the table with the lamp that had been placed just beside the door. So first he dumped a couple of pieces of paper out of it, he didn’t know why really, and then he helped Maggie over to where he put the bucket behind the upholstered chair in the corner. After her, he used it too.

      Maggie was still in pain, but she was moving much better now as she carefully flexed to find the extent of her mobility. John took the opportunity to search the rest of the couch, and then the chair. The only other things he found were some comic books on the floor under the chair, and a dime. Maggie looked over what he had, then she looked around the room, and then moved to look at the door herself.

      There were no windows, and just a ventilator pipe on the ceiling, which she could never reach. John picked up the toenail clippers, and walked over to the door behind Maggie. Again, he called softly, which startled her, but when he received no answer again, he tried the knob. To his complete amazement, the knob turned, and the door opened four inches. Unfortunately, that was all it would move before a chain finally stopped it.

      Maggie quickly pushed him aside, and moved to listen at the crack, before she reached out to feel the chain for as far as she could reach. However, Maggie could not stand the pain it caused for her to reach out and around the doorframe, so she motioned John back over.

      “Just look for a hook or a lock.” She said softly.

      John got his arm out, and began to feel the chain, but he could not do it either. Then he got an idea, and began to slide the chain through the hasp as quietly as possible. He wend as softly as he could, but in the empty hallway, it sounded like an ongoing freeway pileup. Soon enough, however, a padlock came into view, and they knew that the chain was there to stay.

      In a moment of inspiration, John sat on the floor, and taking hold of the edge of the door near the bottom, and bracing his feet on the wall, he tried to pull the door to enlarge the gap, hoping they could slide through - but it was no use. It was metal, and very solid.

      Looking at the door again, Maggie moved to the other side where the hinges were.

      “Close the door, and bring the clippers here, John.” she whispered.

      They began to examine the hinges. If they could pull out the pins, they could get the door open. They might just get out of there yet. John began to work on the pins by pushing the clippers under the head of the pin, and pushing up, while Maggie looked at the rest of the furnishings in the room.

      John quickly got the middle pin out of the door, but the top and the bottom had some kind of ring on the bottom of the pin. He did not try to force it, because he felt that to damage the door, and not get out would only ruin their last chance. He wanted to check it out a little more before he began to hack at the pins. Maggie agreed, and they both looked around again.

      “Any Ideas?” Maggie asked.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure that the thing on the bottom of the pins unscrews. I can probably pull the pins out, but I’m not going to be able to get them back in, and the door looks pretty heavy. It may fall, if we move it…”

      John looked around the room for a moment or two.

      “Also, we have the lamp, but It’s too light to do much damage, even if I could get behind one of them.” John paused in thought for just a moment, and then continued “…But, we could take the cord off, but I’m not sure what good it would do, because even if I could get it around one of their necks, I’m not sure if I’d be strong enough….” He finished, shaking his head with worry, and disgust.

      “What do you mean about the cord?” She asked. “It’s an electrical cord.” She finished to herself, softly.

      John tried to follow her idea. “Well, we could pull the cord out of the lamp, and then plug it in to give them a shock…” He started to explain, but she interrupted him as she began to get excited.

      “That’s right, we could electrocute the bitch…” She began, but stopped when John put the tips of his fingers on her lips.

      “Maggie, I don’t think that will work. I mean did you ever get a shock from an outlet?”

      “Yes, you know I have?” she said wondering what he was getting at.

      “Well, so have I, and Neither of us are dead, are we.” He asked.

      “Right.” She said as she thought little more. “When people get in water or something, and get really grounded, then they fry. If not, then you just get a jolt.”

      “That’s what I’m afraid of. We don’t have any water, and without it, I think it would just piss them off.” He finished, as he looked back at the door. When he looked back at Maggie, she had this really funny look on her face.

      “What is it, do you hear them?” he asked while trying to listen harder.

      “No, it’s just something that you said. It made me think that we do have something. It’s in the trash can.” She said this while looking at the lamp. Then Maggie took two steps over to retrieve the trash bucket, and placed it on the floor in front of the little table with the lamp.

      John had a dubious, and distasteful look on his face as he spoke “I suppose you’re right, but I don’t think that we should try anything cute. I say we just pull the pins out of the door, and get the heck out of here. Can you Move, Maggie? I don’t want to be here when they get back.” he was really terrified, and it showed.

      “You’re damned right I’ll move; but John, even if I can’t, you have to keep going. You have to get away.” He began to argue, but she stopped him with her tone. “John, I’m sorry, but you know what Nor said. As long as one of us is loose, the others are better off. If you have to go, you go; and please, we don’t have time to argue.

      “What about Noriko?” He asked.

      “I don’t know, John. I think that if they found her, that they would have brought her in here too. If they found her, and killed her, then they would have said something I think, but they haven’t. I just don’t know. All I know is that we can’t wait for her to find us. I don’t think that we have that much time. Even if she is still alive.”

      John could see that just saying that had cost his sister dearly. Tears were sliding down her face, and she made no effort to wipe them away. “Hurry, John.”

      It was clear that Maggie thought they should not have wasted even the few minutes they had taken to look for other ways out. John had seen it in the eyes of their captors too. If they could not get away before the bad guys came back, then they were dead.

      John did not say any more. He simply turned back to the door, and began to work on the bottom hinge pin. It took him longer than he thought, but he finally figured out how he had to unscrew the bottom, which was hard since he only had one pair of toenail clippers that he’d had to bend open to grab hold of the bottom of the pin. He got it out finally, though, and then pulled one of the metal chairs over to begin working on the top hinge, while Maggie unplugged the lamp on the table beside him…

     Noriko, and Mason were sitting in his small office at the station, listening to reports from the units in the field. The detectives had been following the pair from the hotel for over an hour, but for the last thirty minutes, they seemed to be taking their time. They had been in the same small area for a good fifteen minutes, and except for a couple of phone calls, they showed no sign of moving on, or doing much of anything. This told the officers that the meeting must be soon, but even though the cops seemed pleased by this, it was little consolation for Noriko.

      She was in her own private hell, not knowing how she had screwed up, except for the fact that they must have been seen. She also knew that that the thing that was eating at her the most was that she had already done all that she could. There was nothing more that she could do, and she had never felt so helpless, and hopeless in her life.

      For Detective Captain Mason, it was a hard wait also. He knew that there were actually two possibilities for why the two suspects had stopped where they were. They could have made the tail, which given what he thought of Jackson, seemed the most likely reason to his mind. His only consolation was that punks this young would usually run. To stop and stay put was the mark of a much older and much more experienced criminal.

      Baxter had not said anything specifically on the air, but several of his calls had left little doubt that Jackson had not turned particularly competent at any time this particular morning.

      It was about that time, that the Precinct Commander walked into his office, and slammed the door so hard behind him that at first Mason thought he had broken the glass. It was obvious that the Chief had just gotten in, and that he was as angry as Mason had ever seen him.

      “Detective, would you mind telling me just what the fuck has been going on here this morning?”

      Precinct Chief Webber looked for all the world like a man who was fighting to get the words out without biting his own tongue off. He finished by slamming a fax that had come in from The Times on Mason’s desk.

      “You just take a look at that god damned story that The Times is asking me to comment on before they send it to print by ten this morning! On top of that, my wife just called me, and told me that the news is running a story about how we’ve completely fucked up the Chin Lau investigation so bad that we not only let the top members of the gang probably walk Scot-free; but now we may be responsible for two child witnesses being murdered. I’d kind of like to know if it’s true before I talk to these jokers, so you damned well better start telling me what’s going on, and damned fast; because, in three minutes or less, you had better be telling me what the fuck have you been doing about it!”

      Weber stopped, glairing at Mason, his breathing so heavy that he looked now like a bull in a ring, who was just making up his mind when to charge.

      Mason picked up the fax, mostly to cover the fact that he already knew what was written there, and scanned it, before he looked back at his boss.

      “It’s very simple Al. The two kids took the bag money that we thought walked away, and it looks like the Tong got to them first. In part, it was because this woman tried to get the kids out of town. In part because, thanks to that Fuck-up that they sent down here to take over for me, we lost about three hours with the boy wonder doing an impression of a detective with his head up his ass. I got here about a half hour after I got the call from the desk sergeant and one of my men, telling me that Jackson had made a possible collar in the Lau case.”

      Webber looked back at Noriko, and asked “Then, why isn’t she in a cell, Captain?”

      “Because she hasn’t been charged. She is assisting us in this investigation.” Mason said calmly.

      “Well at the very least, Mason, she’s a material witness in a capitol kidnapping case, and is guilty of obstruction. Would you like to explain what the fuck she is doing giving interviews to the press in the middle of the night? And while you are at it, perhaps you can give me a reason why I don’t lock you both up in the same cell right now, so that I can get to the bottom of this whorehouse you call an investigative unit?”

     If Jackson had not held her, and read her rights to her before he had any idea exactly what was going on, I probably would have been able to stop this. But since she was demanding that she be released already, I knew that if we did, that it would look like we were just stalling around like a second rate bunch of fools. The second she got her lawyer in here, it would take him about five minutes on the phone with judge Hanes, who was on the bench last night by the way, to secure an order for her release.

      You see, Al. Not only would that set us up for false arrest, but also it would have possibly prevented us from securing help from Miss Yokoshira. I thought it would be better to get her on our side quickly. At least, I thought it would be a lot better than just locking up someone who’s told us everything already, and perhaps it would even allow us to focus on the kids. I need her help if I’m to get those kids back.”

      “What about the Kids?” Webber asked. This time, the sound of his voice, and even his facial expression looked completely different.

      “We have two of the bagman under tail right now, and we are hoping they will contact one of the top tong members shortly. Hopefully, it will be one who will lead us to them. It sucks, but right now, it’s the best we have. We know who has them, but we don’t know where they are.” Mason wanted to yell too, but knew that it would do no good. “Wherever they are, I hope the news story will keep them put long enough, because those S.O.B’s will be afraid to move them.”

      “Jesus H. Christ!, so that was your idea? Well tell me, Captain, what if they are in a secure place, what do you think Lau will do to them?”

      Mason took another breath, as his eyes flickered in Noriko’s direction. “Since they obviously know where the money is, then they could have killed the kids already. If they were going to do that, then it’s too late. The story is the best hope, if they are not already dead. If they are, then it doesn’t matter, because we are already looking for them with as many men as we could pull in from other duties. Either way, if it makes them nervous enough to make a mistake, so much the better.”

      Noriko was now sobbed almost silently, but although both men heard her, neither turned away from the battle of wills that was taking place. Perhaps it was what made them such good friends. It definitely made them both better cops.

      Al’s shoulders slumped only slightly. “Jesus. If those kids are already dead, then the press and the Mayor will have my ass on the flagpole down at the City Hall. They’ll have a field day.” He shook his head. “I hope you realize that the field we are talking about will be both our asses! You had better not fuck this up, Mason, because if you do we are all out of a job, and before I turn in my gun and shield, I will, by god, shoot you and that stupid bastard Jackson myself. But for now, I want her locked up.”

      “On what Charge, Al?” Mason asked far more calmly than he felt.

      “Grand theft for the money, and Obstruction.” He snapped.

      “It won’t wash, Al. She sent a letter to the Commissioner detailing where the money could be found. If that letter shows up, which I’m sure it will, we have no grounds. The obstruction would be pretty hard to push too, considering I wanted her to talk to the press. That, and the fact that she gave a statement that she had intended to contact the police or the FBI once the children were safely out of town, because she had reason to believe from local contacts that the tong had infiltrated this unit…”

     The chief’s eyes snapped to Noriko, but his mouth only tightened, and he said nothing.

      “…The best we can nail her for is being scared and stupid. Unfortunately, it’s not only you and I who will know that what she did wasn’t all that stupid. If we bust her now, it’s going to look like retaliation to every two-bit stringer with a course in journalism.”

      “Well was it your fucking brainstorm to tell them that we were the most incompetent bunch of imbeciles since the porcupine tried to fuck on an electrically heated waterbed?”

      “No. I think you can thank Jackson for that idea, Al. He came up with that all on his own. I only let the story out to try and save two little kids. He was the one with the liquored up porcupine in his bed.” Mason said flatly, his calm about to slip finally.

      Frustrated, but knowing his friend better than he did his own wife, the chief of detectives turned on Noriko. “You want to tell me why you went tried to make us look like fools. Did you think that part would help? Why didn’t you come to us, before you tired to stick a knife in our backs?”

      Noriko just looked back at him for a moment or two. She was too tired to care any more. She spoke her mind: “Come to you?” she gave an excellent impression of incredulity; which just may have come from hanging around with all those theater companies for so long. “And just where were you all this time, captain? I didn’t see you when that ass had me in an interrogation room half the night. How many people have you gone down to see in an interrogating room, while your god-damned detectives were acting like a bunch of apes having a shit fight at the zoo? I suspect we both know the answer.

      It wasn’t your back I stabbed. If you look carefully, the bruise where I kicked you is a little lower than that. I just want those children found, and I don’t care what happens to you, or to me, or most especially not some idiot detective lieutenant who is so obviously unfit to pick up after a dog.” Even Noriko was amazed at how calm and normal her voice sounded.

      The Chief knew that his only chance was for the children to be found safe, and that those odds were very long indeed. He looked back at Mason, who just returned his stare, while he tried to assess his odds. Even if he threw his friend down the chute right here and now, and tried to save what he could, it would not be enough. Nothing he did now would matter. If this went south, then they were both screwed. He could see in Mason’s eyes that he knew all this too. Well, at least if he had to risk his pension at this late date, it was on the one man who had never failed him… Yet.

      The chief motioned his Detective Captain to follow him, and both men walked out of the room. All personality was forgotten, as both tried to see what they could do to improve the odds.

      When they had left, Noriko physically slumped in the chair. If there had been any other person in the room to hear, they would have noticed how loud the ticking of the clock sounded at that moment, and perhaps if they listened closely enough, a very small sad voice that said: “Where are you?”

     It was impossible with one set of stupid clippers, but he could not give up now. He was almost frantic trying to get the last pin out. So much so that Maggie had even stopped urging him on. He didn’t respond to her anymore anyway. She worked on the lamp, trying to pull the cord off, intending to use it to strangle the first person through the door. Perhaps in that way, John at least could get away.

      She had no success, until John threw the pair of nail clippers on the table in disgust. He had been using them to jam into the gap between that ring at the bottom of the pin, and the door, trying to hold it as he turned the pin to loosen. He found, however, that by jamming in pieces of the plastic fork instead, that the last pin was starting to turn finally. Feeling like an idiot, Maggie picked up the clippers, and quickly snipped off the cord at the base.

     The radio call came in while Mason and Al were still outside. “This is Baxter, we have them.” he said, and then as if he was talking to someone else away from the microphone. “No! Don’t move. Lets see what happens.”

      Another voice came through “Let go of my arm, Baxter. Who the fuck you think you are…” before the click of the mic button cut off the tirade.

      “Christ.” Mason Whispered to himself, and walked over to the encrypted radio set that they were using to monitor from the squad room. The detective who was monitoring the set did not even look over his shoulder at Mason, as his boss reached past his shoulder for the microphone. “Baxter, this is Mason. What do you have?”

      “We got two of them, Captain. The big scary looking one who runs around with the woman Ling, and the other big fellow who we thought worked directly for Lau himself. It looks like they are moving in to talk with the kids now. It looks like we have some the tong’s top people on this one, so we may be lucky.” Then, they heard the mike button snap again, followed by a short burst of static.

      “Baxter, listen,” looking at the Map that was spread on the desk, the one that the detective sitting at the desk was holding a sharpened pencil point on, “can you make it over to unit C on foot?”

      “I think so, but if you’ll forgive me, Sir, that’s not a very good idea. It may attract their attention to us. These guys are not like trailing a bunch of kids. These are the bodyguards for the top members of the Tong. We’ll be lucky to even track of them without giving it all away.”

      “I know that, Baxter, but I need Jackson here, and I need him now. We have another lead, and I want my most experienced man to coordinate with the Chief Inspector on it.” He hoped the lie sounded better on the other end.

      The station chief just nodded at Mason. He had been around a long time, and knew that he had been coldly had when one of the “top candidates” from another precinct had been rammed down his throat. He knew that he was probably going to get a fuck-up of some type. He just never envisioned it would be this bad. This guy surpassed all their expectations. In a weak moment, the desk sergeant had said that he must have been fucking the Mayor’s dog for years, with full motion video, to still carry a shield. Being the mayor’s nephew couldn’t possibly be enough.

      Again they heard an argument going on. “I don’t care what he fu…” The line went dead again with a loud snap.

      It was almost a full minute later when Baxter called in again. “Captain, when they move, Jackson, and I will sit tight, and I’ll let unit bravo tail them. He is in front of them anyway. Then I’ll jump out, and duck through the store on the corner, and Jackson will be on the way back. What the…”

      Then Jackson’s voice came on. “Sir I protest this order. It could ruin my investigation when we are very close here. Is this really necessary?”

      “It’s necessary, Jackson. Just get yourself back here. We don’t need you for this, and I’m calling in other units to join the parade. We need more men on this one, and I need you here to coordinate the larger op.”

      He snapped his fingers at the detective at the desk, and held up two fingers to the man. This was unnecessary, thought, since the detective was already on the phone with dispatch, ordering in two more teams of detectives and passing the word to the uniformed units in the area that they were in play. Mason continued as if none of that were going on: “Besides you’ve been on them all morning. It’s better for you to pull back, and let someone else take over. Out.”

      Mason killed the mike in disgust. “His investigation! Slimy little bastard.” He whispered just loud enough that no one outside of the building could possibly have heard him.

     The bottom of the door pin turned freely now. Two of John’s fingers were bleeding, because he had only gotten it to turn by getting his finger stuck between the pin and the door; but, the pin was slowly moving, held now only by the weight of the door.

      “Maggie!” he called urgently, “I think I’ve got it.” As he began twist and pull the pin as hard as he could, grunting freely with the effort. She came over, still holding the shade-less lamp and a cord in her hands.

      “Good, John. Hurry!”

      “I am.” She heard.

     Noriko looked at the clock. It was ten, a.m. She must have dozed. While she was sleeping, her mind had not stopped, though. In her unconscious state, her Id had played the cruelest of games with her by summoning up all manor of horrible ends for friends. The most common of which was the thought that when the thugs had seen the news, that they had slaughtered the children right in front of the TV as it blared out their peril. Noriko thought she would be physically ill many minutes after she awoke.

     The news story had sent the ‘thugs’ into consternation. Noriko could not know that it had in fact bought time for several hours while they decided what to do. Had it not been for that, the children would have been in a van on the way west, and well out of town at that hour. Unfortunately, now it looked like they would be headed east, later tonight, instead: toward the river

      Ling knew that she had to recover that money, if she were ever to save face, but her uncle was already telling her to cut their losses. She had no doubts of her tenuous standing with him, family or no. When their two bodyguards got back, she was to start cleaning up. She was already on the way back to the factory to check on the little shit she had left there to watch them. She had half a mind to get rid of him as well, but did not know how to do it, without freaking out her own bodyguard.

      Perhaps she would tell him to stay and clean up the factory before the workers came back on Monday. The factory was just coming in sight, and she smiled in spite of herself. At least she was free to pay the little bitch, and her darling little brother back for the trouble they had caused her. Her stomach began to flutter with the excitement she always felt at such times. Soon, now. Very soon…

      On impulse, Maggie knelt down, and plugged in the cord. She tentatively touched it to the metal of the table leg, causing an unimpressive electrical arc. She laid it carefully on the wooden tabletop. John was grunting with effort, and bending over as she was, she could clearly see that the thin metal of the chair he was standing on was beginning to buckle. “Hold it John!” she hissed. “The chair is breaking. Here, try this,” she said, as she handed him the lamp. It was too much for him to do at one time, however, and finally they wound up with him holding the clippers on the pin as tightly as he could, while she hit them from the bottom with the lamp. Suddenly, without warning the pin slipped free.

      For full second or two, both John and Maggie watched the door as if they expected it to pop open by itself. The door did not move however, which confused both children.

      “Now what?” John asked to himself, as he stepped off the chair, and reached over to pull the door open by the knob. For the first inch of travel, the door swung out just as it normally would.

      Maggie whispered, “John, be…”

      He never heard the rest. The door, which was much heavier than either of them suspected, slipped off of the hinges, and swing by the chain down onto metal chair, creating a series of loud metallic bangs and booms that seemed to shake the floor itself. It was the door itself, which even as it swung around, that fortunately knocked John away, and onto his rear.

      It seemed that the door had only just come to rest, laying sideways, but still partially blocking the door where it was held up at an angle by the chain; when they could hear the sound of a door slamming down the hall, and running feet.

      In panic, Maggie rushed to see if John was Ok. He was, and he was almost back up on his feet before she could reach him. The running feet were closer now, their loud sound punctuated with swearing. Maggie unconsciously held the lamp in front of her as she stepped between John and the door.

      The punk that had been there last night suddenly slid to a halt in the doorway. Clearly, he had been asleep, as he looked from the door to the two children. “What the fuck…” he started to climb into the room over the door, over anxious to get at the still trapped children, when finally he took notice of the lamp that Maggie held before her. He stopped, balancing precariously on the door as it shifted on the chain; and, with his eyes never leaving the children he began to reach to the small of his back in an effort to draw his gun.

      John and Maggie had been in this position once before, trapped in the elevator, and had tried the calm approach. Not this time. John began to push past her, but it was Maggie who sprang forward with a loud shriek, and slammed the lamp into the thugs shoulder. She had aimed at his head, but he had put his right hand up to protect himself.

      The force of the blow was not great enough to put him out of commission, but it did cause him to loose his balance, and he began to scramble for footing. “Fuck!” he shouted, as he finally lost his balance, and fell very heavily to the door, and slid into the table and the wastebasket sitting there.

      Both Maggie and John were frozen in place for a moment, as they watched the spectacle of the young hood crashing to the floor. Unfortunately, it was just enough time to allow him to bring the gun back up, and point it at Maggie’s face. “Drop it, or I blow your frigging brains out, you little pain in the ass.” Maggie was ready strike out, but John, seeing the impossible odds clearly, reached over and pushed the lamp down until Maggie released it.

      At the sound of the lamp thudding on the floor, the hood reached down without looking away from the children, and pushed the wastebasket away from his feet. Feeling that he was soaked, his eyes snapped involuntarily to look at his feet as they slipped on the wet floor, and door.

      The hood put his hand down to the bottoms of his jeans, and touched the wetness he felt there. “What the fuck did you do?” he asked, as he brought the tips of his fingers to his nose…

      His eyes flashed around to blaze at the two children. “You fucking little bitch. I’m going to kill you myself,” he screamed at them. Then in anger, he turned to untangle his feet, as he tried to pull himself out of the offal liquid he was sitting in. In his murderous rage, kicked the table away from him, causing the cord to fall onto his legs.

      The reaction was instant. The thug tried to scream but the sound that came out was more like a prolonged grunt, as his spine arched, slamming his head back into the door. He continued to spasm, as the light in the ceiling began to dim, and the buzz of live electrical circuits began to grow louder. Again the hood tried to scream. His hand still convulsively gripped the steel doorframe, and his eyes rolled back in his head, as smoke began to rise from his lower legs.

      Then the lights went out.

      Maggie and John just stood there for moments, neither moving, until the lights flickered once more, as the automatic breakers tried to reset. This causing the thug’s body to lurch upward again, but this time much less so than he had done when he was still alive.

      That was enough. Maggie reached for John’s arm, and began to move to the door. John started to reach for the gun in the punk’s hand, but Maggie pulled him frantically back. “No, John! You’ll be electrocuted” and just then the lights flickered again, showing that Maggie was probably right.

      Looking at the door, both children were afraid to try and cross it with the electricity going on and off at random. Suddenly, John, then got an idea, and ran back to the couch, and pulling the cushions off. Once he got back over beside Maggie, he put them on top of the door so that they could get out. In moments they were outside, and their footsteps echoing down the corridor as they ran…

      "Unit B! Move! Move! I think they are looking at you, I want you to pull up and pass them on the left. You are out of it, so just keep going.” Once again there was the low mummer of the open channel. Baxter swore before it went dead.

      It was the second unit that the young detective had pulled out of the tail. He was running out of units fast at this rate, but Mason knew he was right. Mason did not even consider reaching for the handset. These two were the bodyguards, and were used to looking for set ups, and traps at all times. He knew that one mistake, and if the kids were still alive, a cell call would be made…

      Thank god he pulled Jackson out. The kid was doing well, bringing a twinge of personal vindication to Mason’s gut for recommending him, but the odds were still foul. It was the thugs second trip through the two same neighborhoods, obviously checking for surveillance. Watching Baxter try to keep the situation alive was like seeing a kitten thrown into a pit with two bulldogs. The kitten was keeping away, but how long could it last. All Mason could do was to silently cheer him on for each new minute he lasted.

      Mason looked back at the door to his office, wherein the woman waited. He had no real intention of telling her but he badly wanted to.

      It would do no good, and he knew that desire came mostly from his feeling so helpless. Well, there was one thing he could do. He picked up the phone, and hit the four-digit code that would connect him to the 42nd precinct’s dispatcher. It was just a few seconds when he started to speak “This is Mason at the 53rd. I have a tail moving into your zone, and I need at least two plain-clothes backup units to assist. Subject is moving down Watson Boulevard, between Geary and Hospital Square. Subjects are armed and extremely dangerous. I also need you to get Detective Captain Benson on the phone, right now…” He did not think they would get there in time, but it was something.

      Out on Watson Blvd., Baxter was reaching over the back seat into a bag to pull out a baseball cap, and some sunglasses. It was rapidly reaching the point that they may have to peal off for good too, but his instinct alone was telling him he still had one more shot in there with the hat trick. He wished it were a pair of pants. Detective Baxter was sweating so bad that he felt like he had pissed his seat.

      Best not to think of that though…, he thought uncomfortably.

      No one had designated him in command. In fact, any one of the detectives on the detail outranked him, and at least two should have taken over. They were all listening to the same channel however, and the calls to the Captain had seemingly designated him. Besides, everyone was just too damned busy trying not to bee seen. At least two realized that it was a no-win, that they really didn’t want any part of. Baxter had almost expected a call ordering him back to the precinct house too, but mostly he was just too busy and too scared to think about it.

      “Baxter, this is Mason, come in!” For just a moment, he felt like he might just piss himself after all- or at the very least throw up. Slipping the hat on his head, he picked up the microphone and almost choked, “Go, sir!”

      “Easy Baxter! You are doing fine. Now listen. There is a green mustang up ahead of you, do you see it.”

      Baxter looked, and quickly spotted the car about two blocks up, being driven by an older woman. “I have it sir. Why?” he asked more abruptly than he had wanted to speak to the man who was to all extents his mentor.

      Mason, came right back: “Now listen son. That’s an unmarked pursuit car from the 42nd. On the next turn by the suspects, the officer will pull to the side, and take you in the car. I have three more cars lined up, and two more units of detectives from the 42nd joining you on this TAC channel right now. They will be unit E in a gray Taurus, and F in a black Volvo wagon, and a black and white. Copy?”

      “Copy Sir.” Baxter said, more grateful for the sanction from Mason, than he was for the actual cars.

      “Now be careful. The officer in the Mustang has been instructed to watch to make sure that the suspect vehicle is out of sight first, but when she’s sure, she will stop wherever she is. You have to move fast, so that you don’t cause a traffic snarl, and attract too much attention. For god’s sake, don’t get in an accident, because that will tip off the goons. Leave detective Burk in your unit, and get ahead of them as fast as you can. Copy?” Mason had said it all with one breath.

      It was a few seconds more than he expected, before Baxter came on the line. So long in fact that Mason was just about to call him back. Finally, when the speaker once again carried Baxter’s voice, he was speaking to the team. “All Units. This is Baxter. We just got some help. I’m going to execute a car swap into a green Two-thousand-seven Mustang, plate number Alpha-Lima-Echo-one-five-three. I want unit Bravo to move forward to take position behind unit Delta. Unit Echo will move into position, and get ready to take over after Unit Bravo. Unit Charlie, will drop out, and contact base on another channel, and follow at a distance. Unit A, the green mustang, will continue down Weston, and move to do a cross over. Units, Echo, and Fox, acknowledge.”

      Mason sighed, and looked at the Precinct Captain. He too had once aspired to be an Assistant Chief of the whole force, and had even once, for two horrible years, been a precinct commander. He had found, however, as he grew older, that he preferred police work. His friend had those now, and he was glad that they were his babies. To his great surprise, his boss just nodded at him, and picking up the fax, turned and walked out of the room.

      It was unwritten, but clearly understood between them both, that once he was out of the picture, that someone would look after young detective, Baxter. The boy was very good, and deserved that much at least.

      From somewhere behind him, he could hear a loud arrogant, and grating voice demanding his whereabouts. Mason smiled. It did not matter any more that Jackson had the same last name as the Mayor. This was one thing that he could do, and was damned well going to enjoy it.

      With the Newspapers hitting the streets in a few hours, he had a free hand to deal with this particular asshole. With his retirement papers in hand, there was no way for the bastards pushing him along to retaliate either. Yes, this was going to be a small pay back that he should have been able to give for a half a dozen assholes over the past thirty-six years, and he was going to make it count. That had been understood, but unspoken between he and his boss as well.

      Mason turned back to another detective. “Cassandra, would you go and get Miss Yokoshira out of my office for a few minutes. Take her down to get some food into her. I don’t want her here right now, and I’m going to need my office?”

      “Yes Captain.” The woman who was almost as young as Baxter was, answered with only a slight smile. Something in her voice however, caught the attention of everyone in the room. Clearly the joy and relief at what was about to happen to her nominated boss had reached the far corners of the room. All she had said was Yes, but she might as well have called him “darling.” He treasured the relief in her eyes even more than his own anticipation.

By

Sarah Lynn Morgan

[email protected]

          Gentles all:   The following story contains reference to a form of Japanese street fashion, the adherents to which refer to as Elegant Gothic Lolita. Note, that the term “Lolita” refers to this style of clothing. This, with Gabi's kind help, is a revised and illustrated version of the story that originally appeared on Crystal’s Storysite.

Hansel and Gretel: A Fairytale. Finale. By Sarah Lynn Morgan

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     John slammed the side of his fist into the third door, because it too was locked.

      Margaret had to stop for a breath. Her hand went reflexively to her side.

      “At least the inside doors are mostly unlocked, but we need to find a way out!” John was panting too.

      “I know that, come on, and lets try this way.” Maggie said, as she pulled him toward a room full of trash bins. She froze for a moment as several very large rats sprang for any hiding place.

      Most of the bins were empty, but several full ones stood by a large square door in the wall that obviously lead to a dumpster. John lifted a bar, and swung it aside to see if they could get out that way. It only led to the inside of a compactor. They could not get out that way either. In disgust, John pushed the door closed, and had begun to run toward the hall once more, frantically looking for a way out. When the metal door hit, and the handle flipped down, it caused a loud metallic boom.

      "Shit!” Maggie gasped over the pain, and panting in her side.

      Behind them, Ling Lau was creeping quickly but quietly toward the room where the children were supposed to be with her gun already in her hand. She could see the door on its side, and knew something had gone badly wrong. Her gun was drawn, not from fear of the two children, but because she was going to shoot the first person she saw, especially that asshole she left here to make sure that nothing went wrong. Thank god that the double outside door she had chained when she left the building had still been locked. She was almost at the small room...

     “All units, all units, subject vehicle has just pulled over! Christ, it’s the old man!”

      There was a pause of about a half a second, then came “No, don’t slow down! Keep moving. All units! Suspect vehicle has just pulled over, and the Old Man, believed to be Chin Lau is getting in the car. Unit A, alpha will move to Sixteenth Street. Unit Echo, move south two blocks, and hold. Unit Foxtrot move four blocks north and hold. Unit Bravo will pull into the Texaco Station across the street. They must not have seen us yet, so everyone just watch it. Don’t blow it now, for god’s sake… Everyone stay calm… Out.”

      Mason smiled at that one. They might just bag the old man too. If they could link him to a capitol kidnap of two minors, along with all the other stuff they had, they would be able to throw him in a hole so deep, he’d run out of air. Good.

      The slamming of the door behind him, as Jackson stormed out on indefinite administrative leave, made him smile even more broadly…

     John and Maggie had moved up the stairs, and were trying windows, but most of those had been screwed shut. The only one that that both opened, and that they might be able to climb through, was over a small alley filled with jagged metal. No way could they use it.

      John had fallen on the stairs, and had gotten a cruel bruise on the front of his shin. Now they were both limping, as they frantically searched for a way out. Behind them, they heard the sound of a shot, and then the same loud bang from the trash compactor. Maggie and John both froze, just as the blood in their vanes did.

      Even as the shot still echoed along the long corridors, there came the whine of the compactor’s powerful motors..

      Quickly, Maggie pulled John over to a corner, and pushed him down behind a desk. They had gone through a bunch of rooms that had not been used for a while, and were now back in an area was being used for some kind of storage. It was full of paper drums, and the walls were newly painted, and the lights were brightly lit.

      “Shit, Maggie” John sobbed. Maggie grabbed her brother, ignoring the pain in her side, and hugged him too her as he began to loose it.

      “Shhhhh, John. It’s Ok. This Place is huge, she can’t find us very quickly. We’ll get out before she does.” John nodded his head, but he also let loose another involuntarily whimper. “Be quiet, Hon. Please. Let Maggie think.” Margaret said gently, slipping into a tone that she had not used with John for many years. Neither, Noticed. Maggie was looking around the room, when she noticed some red boxes hanging down from the ceiling over the drums.

      “John, listen.” Maggie said quietly. “We can’t get out.”

      John started to speak, but Maggie stopped him.

      “Shhhh! We can’t get out, John! All the doors are locked. I think I have a way to get help. Do you still have the matches?”

      John hardly remembered, but instinctively shoved his hand into the little pocket, and pulled the matches out.

      “Stay here, John. When I come back, we need to go back down stairs, Ok?”

      John, just nodded again, but did not ask anything more.

      Maggie moved to the drums, and looked up at the sensor. Sure enough, it was a fire detector. She looked down hall quickly, and then bent to read the label on the drums, which read. ‘Hazardous Waste. State Regulated material. Oily solids.’

      Maggie looked at the top for a moment, and quickly figured out how to open the ring. Slipping the ring off, she lifted the drum top to find it filled with oily kitty litter, mixed with metal shavings. The second drum was the same. In the next row, she found what she needed. Rags and paper, all soaked with oil. When this drum moved easily, she quickly realized that she could find these drums just by trying to move them. Moving up and down, shaking the drums, she found that most of them were light, and quickly opened five drums of rags and paper. “Get ready John.” She said, and then looking through the window in the door leading down the hall, she quickly struck a match and lit the waste in the barrel.

      She only got to the third drum, before the whoosh of the flame in the first drum startled her, causing her to drop the matches.

      Looking back in fear, she reached for the matches, and lit the whole pack, and threw them into a bin on the other side of the room. Then taking John’s hand, she quickly made her way out in the direction she and John had been going, looking for more stairs to get down, and head as far away from the fire as they could get. All the while, she was praying that help would come in time.

     “All Units! This is Bravo. Subject turned north. Unit Foxtrot should have them in sight in sight any moment.”

      Unit F was just as fast on the microphone. “We have them. Subject, is moving to the left hand lane, and it looks like they are going to head onto the expressway north. Can anyone else pick them up?”

      Six blocks west, Unit A responded as Officer Janet Smith, who looked old enough to be detective Baxter’s mother, spun the wheel, and gunned through a yellow light as she raced for the next exit north. Baxter dropped the microphone, as he scrambled for his seatbelt. The mustang had been purchased from the state police, who had used it to chase down cars on highways that were faster than the standard police cars could catch.

      Baxter could see why, as officer smith saw an opening, the acceleration pulled Baxter’s head back against the rest. Officer Smith did not even smile at him as he looked over at the speedometer, and watched it jump from forty, and past sixty to seventy in an eye blink; or, as she straddled the white line, and flashed between two vehicles with inches to spare. Officer Smith had three children of her own…, after she had given up driving limited stock cars on dirt tracks down south. The second she hit the ramp, and saw it was clear, the needle shot past ninety-five in the space to two heartbeats…
He didn't look again.

     Margaret and John were on the stairs headed down into a particularly dark area, when the alarms went off. They were startled so much by the loud Siren, and by a flashing yellow light, that they jumped the last three steps to the floor. It was stupid, but it was lucky too. It had also startled Ling, which is why the bullet she had aimed at Maggie’s head smashed the glass of one of the doors that blocked the lower hall behind them. The Report of the gun in the closed hall was also much louder than she was used as well, and that along with the flashing amber light just above the children’s heads distracted her for a scant few moments. That was why her second and third shots also missed.

      “Run!” Maggie screamed, as she began to follow John back up the stairs. Ahead of them she could already hear the sound of the fire, and could feel the heat that followed the smoke flowing down the hall toward them. Even with several rats racing past her in the opposite direction, the curses coming from Ling as she reached the bottom of the stairs frightened her more. She had to get away, so she grabbed John, and pulled him around the corner, and onto the stairs leading to the third floor.

      Ling had just reached the second floor landing, when the drum of flammable liquid that Maggie had not seen nearby, burst. It was not a loud explosion, more like very loud whoosh, and a hiss, and the drum sprayed a mixture of alcohol, and oils all over the room. Ling hesitated, to look down the hall, even as Maggie and John reached the top of the third set of stairs, and raced down yet another long hall, seeking the opposite side of the building. Already the smoke seared their lungs as they ran.

     “Alpha, this is unit Foxtrot. They are taking exit thirty-one. It looks like they are heading west to the industrial park.”

      Captain Mason snatched up the microphone. “Unit Foxtrot, Keep going on to exit Thirty Three, or Thirty four. I know that Park. There are two gates on the main road right through the middle of it. There won’t be very much traffic, and you can see down that road from end to end. All units. Let them go. I’m going to send a Marked Unit down from the opposite end, just like a normal patrol. Wait where you are, and get ready to move in. This may be it.”

      Mason wanted to tell them to make sure to shoot that evil bastard Chin Lau, but he knew if he did, he just might have to share a cell with him. He also knew that at least two of the older men, who had been pulling sixteen-year-old hookers out of dumpsters in Chinatown for far too many years would not miss the opportunity -- if it should legitimately present itself.

      The detective on the desk with the tactical radio was already on the phone to the 42nd’s Lieutenant Benson, who they knew was standing by in his own command center to assist. One of the shadowing marked cars from several blocks to the west was already moving to the north gate to the industrial park, even as the Lau was being driven in the south.

     Maggie and John raced along the hall, until they came to another set of doors. Maggie thought for one horrific moment that they would be locked, and they would be trapped on the third floor with Ling. However, John hit the door ahead of her, and it flew open easily, showing another set stairs just beyond. Ling screamed behind them, having just reached the top of the stairs, but coughing choked off the scream. The coughing once again fouled Ling’s aim, as she loosed another couple of shots at the fleeing children. This time, her shots were quite high, hitting the door as it closed behind them.

      Chin Lau softly said, “Be calm.” to the bodyguards in the front as the police cruiser turned onto the industrial park road, and began coming toward them from the opposite end.

      The sergeant in the car was a good man, and knew the job. As he cruised toward the suspect vehicle, he purposely turned his head left and right as if he was taking stock of the facilities, while keeping his eyes on the car coming toward him. As he got closer, he shifted to face the oncoming car, and obviously gave them the once-over, just long enough, because to ignore them may have been a giveaway also.

      Even the seasoned Tong enforcers were a little unnerved by this. Lau himself was uncomfortable, but he purposely looked toward his bodyguard in the front passenger seat, to turn his face away from the cruiser, and said, “Just continue to the other end, and let’s see what happens.”

      The driver nodded slightly, and continued slowly on.

      In the police car, now well past the Lau’s vehicle, the officer picked up the microphone, making sure it was behind his body, and called his watch commander. It was an open channel, so he simply informed the commander that he had completed the pass, and was going to stop at the fast food place just outside of the south gate of the industrial park. At the stop sign, the officer veered to the right, and then crossed the street diagonally, to pull into the parking lot of the McDonalds.

      Quickly he hopped out of the car, and was inside the restaurant before he pulled out his radio, and switching to the secure tactical channel, informed all that he was in position. He also informed all listening, that the suspect vehicle had turned around, and had headed back into the parking lot of the old Goodyear tire plant. The plant, a huge complex that had been built in World War II, was now used by literally dozens of businesses.

      The officer knew it would be of the highest interest. He also knew that there was no way the suspects could tell that he had left his car running, with the door on his side left open.

      Mason felt the hand on his shoulder, which startled him, because he had been so focused on the radio speaker...

      Nothing strange there. The radio was holding the same level of attention for everyone in the room. Unlike everyone else, however, Mason was trying to make the decision of a lifetime. He believed he had a shot at Chin Lau, two of his top killers, and probably several others as well. If he moved in, he could link them to whatever was going on. If the kids were there, no matter what, it was better for them to move in soon. On the other hand, years of work could be lost in an instant, if they were not there. If he were wrong…. If he were wrong, without a capitol case against Lau, they would get him on taxes, rackets, and perhaps keep him off the street for a while, whilst the old man lived in country club splendor in some state prison, buying anything, or anyone he needed.

      Then there were the two kids? Even the interview he had taken with the stepmother, for some reason even now prayed on his mind that he might be the children’s only hope. To his credit, Mason was fully ready to pull the trigger the moment he had any indication the children were there, regardless of the consequences to the case; but, there was a very real possibility that Lau could still be leading them away from them.
It might be the only reason they could see him at all.

      Thus occupied, he jumped rather high at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, before he turned to find the sergeant in charge of dispatch standing beside him. He was another friend, and had been the voice on the radio for more years, and more tough spots, than Mason would care to count. Oddly, the sergeant just handed him a call slip, and said nothing. It was for an NYFD three station call, for the complex they had staked out. Mason’s eyes snapped to the sergeant, but before he could even ask, the man simply nodded in the affirmative. He was quite sure that there had been no mistake.

      At least the doubts and the waiting were over, because there was no decision left to make. It had been made for him. His voice was calm and deliberate: “All units. This is Mason. We have a Fire Department call to the stakeout location. ETA on the first engine company is approximately six minutes. All units start to move in. The uniform on site will call it. If Lau steps out of the car, all units will move in on his call. If they don’t get out, we move in two minutes, Unit Alpha copy.”

      Mason looked over to the detective sitting beside him at the radio. He was on a talkie with the uniform, using a 42nd assigned tactical channel listening to a blow by blow. He was also pleased to note that his detective was ordering the uniform not to move until the other units where there to move with him. He did not know who the man in the uniform unit from the 42nd was, but he was going to buy him a steak dinner, and a bottle of whatever poison he cared to name.

      Mason clicked off the acknowledgements in his head, without thinking as they came over his own precinct’s radio net. If they weren’t awake now, they never would be.

      It was only the longest forty-five seconds of his life.

      Then came an open call over the main net that everyone on this side of the city heard: “All units from Car 114, the suspects have exited their vehicle, and are approaching a door on the southern side of the building right now! One of the Big guys is carrying either a rifle or a shotgun, I can’t tell which.” The microphone clicked off with a snap.

      “This is Mason. Move, now! I say again, Move in! All units are advised, we strongly suspect there is a hostage situation at the scene.”

      “Baxter Here, Units Foxtrot, and Charlie, divert to the northern end of the building, and try to gain entry.” That was all he could get out. The Mustang was once again accelerating under the heavy foot of officer Smith, but this time Baxter didn’t even look at her. He was focused on the buildings that were just coming into sight, and the sound of sirens coming rapidly toward him from at least two other directions.

     The fire was bad. Maggie and John had made it down to the second floor, but they couldn’t stay there very long. The smoke and the heat were incredible. The choking fumes --even with the fact that she knew that Ling had to be nearby groping in the smoke like they were, her soul intent on killing them -- forced the children to retreat. They had to resort to crawling along the floor, along with the rats, before they found the stairs down to the first floor, farther down the hall behind them.

      A barrier that felt like a wall, only a few steps down from the second floor, blocked the stairs.

      In a panic, Maggie realized that she would have to retrace her steps back to the third floor, and try making it past Ling, to get down the other stairs. She tugged John back, and began crawling rapidly back the way they came.

      Once she reached the path up to the third floor, she hesitated trying to listen, but the alarms, and the fire, and the hot air rushing up the stairwell were too loud.

      It was getting too hot. They had to move. Slowly, she forced herself up to her feet - to take a step. She could barely make them move. Every muscle in them was burning, not from the fire, but from the fear-induced adrenaline that she had been lashing her system for what seemed like ages. She sobbed with the effort to make herself climb, knowing for the first time that they were probably not going to make it. Ling was somewhere up those stairs. The fire was on them from behind. They were completely trapped. If Ling didn’t get them, then the fire surely would.

      Maggie climbed though. Slowly at first, and without determination. When she reached the top of the stairs she knew that she had better not stop again. She was not sure if she would be able to force her body to move if she stopped again.

      Now she knew what they meant when they said ‘Paralyzed by fear’. She was almost there, and her side hurt. Her hand hurt where she clutched Johns arm. Her lungs burned from the fumes. Her heart ached with the thought that John would not survive either.

      Somehow, she was able to pull John back down, to crawl back to the doors in the corridor on the third floor.

      The fumes were still bad, but the heat was a lot better. The floor was hot though; hot enough to burn their hands, due to the fierceness of the fire below them. Maggie pulled John up and dragged him toward the door. On the other side, she could see the flicker of fire coming from a room off the corridor to the left. The fire had already reached the third floor. Their only hope was to run for it, hoping Ling had done the same.

      “John we have to run.” she gasped.

      “I know!” He snapped.

      “Then move!” she said as she pushed the door open, and jerked John into motion, as they both ran down the right side of the hall, in a desperate effort to gain their lives.

      They did not see Ling.

      Ling, squatting near the chained exit doors at the far end of the hall could hear the sirens approaching outside. She knew that she had moments only. She also knew that the doors on this floor were all chained for the weekend, and that the majority of these upper floors were unused, and they had been securely blocked off by the owners, to separate the various rental spaces.

      She was only a little worried about getting out, but she was very worried about being seen. She knew she probably could not avoid that, but to make the cover story work along her family’s small interest in the company that operated in this part of the factory, they could not find the children alive and able to talk. Thus, she waited. She waited until she could both hear, and see them coming.

      Baxter grabbed the door, as his car was forced to swerve toward the far right shoulder of the access road that ran through the industrial park. The marked unit 114, that had been waiting nearby had shot across the street right beside them, and continued down the left side of the road, keeping pace in the intersection only until officer smith was once again clear to accelerate while Baxter drew his gun.

      Baxter looked up to see smoke beginning to boil out of upper floors of the factory. When he looked back down at the ground floors, although still several hundred yards away, he could distinctly make out one of the goons lift the old man bodily up, and sprint with him for the car. Baxter reached down, and toggled the siren and lights. “All units, Lau is making for the car. Move! Move! Move!” However, even as he made the frantic call, he knew he had them… He could see cars were coming from all directions, sirens and lights coming on as they saw all the others go code three.

      None as yet heard the more distant sirens of the now six engine companies that were responding as every fire sensor in the eastern half of the complex first triggered, then failed.

      Ling stepped out right in front of Maggie, and Putting the gun to her face, grabbed her shoulder, and threw her to the floor away from the stairs, and into the wall. Maggie tried to scream but John had run into her side, on his way to sprawl on the floor, and all that came out was a horrible grunt of pain as she suddenly saw only a brilliant flash of light, as her mind exploded in pain. For a moment she could not see or breath, as she herself fall next to John.

      Finally looking up, she could see Ling standing over them, her gun pointed unwaveringly right at Maggie’s face. Ling, outlined by the ever-brighter flicker of the fire behind her, was smiling. Her black eyes were catching the reflection of the fire from Maggie knew not where, but they also burned with the fire of hell itself. For those moments, Maggie’s mind lost track of everything except for the darkness in Ling’s eyes that burned directly down from above her. Her face didn’t even look human.

      Then Maggie was perversely preoccupied with the question of what it would be like. Would she hear the shot? Would there be a white hot flash of pain? It seemed so important, that she even forgot to be afraid. It seemed so important, that it was her body’s instincts alone that slowly pulled it backwards, to place herself over John’s unmoving form, and to placing herself between her little brother and Ling.

      On seeing the futile gesture of her prey, Ling laughed at her. “The doors were locked?” Ling said waving a key that she pulled out on a chain around her neck. Ling laughed again.

      The horror hit her. Ling had known all along that there was no way out. She was playing with them.

      On hearing the Evil in that laugh, Maggie whimpered ever so softly. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help it. Desperately, she tried to pull John further behind her, even as she closed her eyes.

      However, the shot did not come, Ling wanted just a little more, while she could walk them to the other end away from her family’s rental.

      Maggie felt Ling’s hand on her head, pulling her roughly up by her hair, and back down the hall away from the stairs, and away from their only hope for life. When she was released, she stumbled, but turned back to see Ling do the same to John, who was looking just dazed before he stumbled into Maggie’s arms.

      The fumes were making it impossible to see.

      “Move!” Ling screamed, and motioned down the hall with her gun. The sheer volume of the shouted order caused Maggie to take an involuntary step backwards. Once ling had her backing slowly down the hall, with the gun barely a foot from her face, it was inconceivable that she might stop. She continued until she could feel the heat of the fire actually burning her back. John was once again pressed behind her, silently trying to twist his body away from the heat of the fire, even as he stared in horror at the smile on Ling’s face.

      Maggie could go no further. The heat felt like it was sucking the air out of her lungs as it was. “Just shoot!” Maggie screamed.

     It was an honest to god giggle. Only Ling knew that she had no intention of shooting them. Bullets leave evidence. The fire would do the trick. Then, even if the children were ever found, there would be almost nothing substantial linking the causes of death to her. It would be circumstantial. She wished she had thought of the fire herself.

      Ling, glanced past the girl toward the door. They were almost there: at the door of the room where the fire had broken through the floor. Ling knew that it had been unused for many years because it had been deemed unsafe, which was why she had unlocked that door while she waited for the children to come back down the hall.

      Suddenly, with a loud snapping and popping sound, the floor shook, and a rumble sounded from inside the room. One of the heavy machines had crashed through the ever-weakening flooring, and into the inferno below. A puff of sooty smoke billowed around the doors, but they held firm, because they were designed to swing in. The heat coming from the room was instantly increased many fold.

      Ling knew that as much as she enjoyed the looks on their faces, it was time to get this over with.

      They were all startled by the sound; only Ling was much less so because she had been half expecting it. She never allowed the gun to waiver from Maggie’s face, as she held it in her outstretched hand.

      Maggie saw Ling’s expression suddenly changed. She had been enjoying their terror. She had been excited, yes, like a cat with a trapped mouse. Now she was more like a shark. The humor in her eyes died, even as they still blazed with the very same fire that would take their lives. Maggie could hear a loud groan from the thick glass in the doors, as the temperature in the room behind them shot up hundreds of degrees in just those moments; and yet, she could not tear her eyes away from Lings face.

      “You’ve cause me a lot of trouble, little girl,” Ling said, in a voice as devoid of emotion as her face. “So I give you a little payback, before I kill you. I let you watch your ‘little sister’ here die when I kill him first!”

      With the last word, Ling reached out with the speed of a rattlesnake, seizing John by the hair, and began to brutally try to throw him through the doors into the inferno beyond; but, it was not like in the elevator, where she had grabbed John from behind. This time, with a howl of pure terror, John began to thrash with all of his strength, as he attempted to fight his way past Ling, and away from the fire.

      It was Maggie, however, who finally stopped Ling; as with an inhuman shriek she launched herself bodily at her, and attempted to actually claw her eyes out. Ling tried to shoot her, but Maggie was already inside of her reach, and was unhampered by any thought of survival, she only thought to kill Ling with her bare hands in a desperate attempt to save John.

      Ling was forced to let go of John, as she instinctively tried to shield her face from Maggie’s gouging fingers, even as she struggled to turn the muzzle of the gun to Maggie’s shrieking face. John, who stumbled because of the sudden relaxation of the grip that he had been struggling against with all of his might, went down against both Ling’s and Maggie’s legs, striking his face cruelly against someone’s knee.

      Ling was forced to try and step over John in a futile attempt to regain her balance, even as Maggie was stumbling over him too. With animal instincts she had never felt before, Maggie sensed she had Ling now, and she pushed with all of her might against the woman’s chest trying to knock her off her feet. Ling heard her own flesh sear, even before she felt the pain of the hot door, but it was too late. She grabbed for Maggie in a futile attempt to save herself, and almost succeeded in dragging Maggie to her death also.

      It was John, who blinded by the pain of smashing his face, had grabbed Maggie’s legs and tripped her to the floor, thinking they were Ling’s. A piece of the lace on Maggie’s dress tore away in his hand, even as the door opened, and a gout of flame shot above Maggie’s head. It barely missed her immolating her, sparing her life, even as it engulfed Ling’s upper body.

      Though Ling’s scream only lasted until she fell through the floor beyond, it was a sound of inhuman torment, a foretaste of a hell that few humans ever see, and that would haunt both children’s memories for all of their days.

      Maggie could no longer breath, but she could feel John frantically trying to drag her across the floor, and away from the fire that was not burning then on every side as the glass in the doors finally exploded out from the flame.
Sending pure deadly fumes billowing into the third floor hallway with the children.

     Baxter stood in front of Lau, as the company commander of the lead engine company yelled at him. “God Damn it! Is there anyone inside the building?”

      The old man continued to just barely shake his head no, and shrug, after first flicking his eyes to Baxter. Baxter wanted to spit in his face.

      Behind them, one of the bodyguards was face down on the old, and broken pavement, a puddle of blood beginning to spread from a half a dozen bullet wounds.

      The other thug was face down over the back of the mustang, the unformed officer from unit 114 holding him there with his gun pressing harshly into the thugs ear, even as the officer wiped the blood away from this own pulped lower lip.

      Four other officers stood within two feet of them, guns drawn, but not one moved to interfere.

      “You have the right for me to blow your worthless brains right out of your fucking head if you move a single finger! You have the right to keep your fucking mouth shut! If you waive the right to keep your fucking mouth shut, nothing you say is going to fucking matter, because even if they don’t fry you, you’ll never see daylight again. If you live long enough to make it to the station, and you desire to have and attorney present, but have not made enough money by beating little girls to death to be able to afford one, I’ll make sure that the court appoints the most incompetent fucking asshole in this city to represent you. Free of charge!”

      “Do you understand these rights as I’ve explained them to you? Shit Bag!” the officer hissed through his teeth, as a small trickle of blood began to well below the muzzle of his gun. The thug just nodded. Behind them, a detective the uniformed officer didn’t know, lay slumped behind the steering wheel of unit C. The poor bastard had never even made it out of the car, and his killer had never taken another breath after he had opened fire.